Tailtiu laughed. “And that is exactly what will get you killed some day. In any case, I would never be foolish enough to need your help.”
Will shrugged. “You’re probably right—on both counts—but that’s who I am. Anyway, we will see how things go tomorrow.”
“I’d really prefer you don’t go. Let me rest and we’ll go together.”
There was a certain emphasis in her tone. Surely she isn’t really worried about me, is she? He dismissed the idea. He knew better. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, followed by Blake’s voice. “It’s getting late, sir. Would you like me to start dinner or do you still intend on cooking?”
Will stepped to the door and pulled it open. “Was that a threat?”
Blake took a step back, a look of innocence on his face. “Of course not, sir! I merely offered to cook if you were too…”
“Any time you offer to cook, it’s a threat.”
His manservant raised one brow. “Perhaps if you’re that dissatisfied with my efforts you might deign to teach me how to cook then.”
Will chuckled. “I like cooking. I’d rather just do it myself, unless you want to pay me for lessons.”
“An exchange then?”
“What would you exchange?”
“I could teach you how to use a blade. You seemed interested a few days ago.”
Will was definitely interested, but he put on an air of reluctance. “I’m already taking rapier classes.”
“And I’m sure those are valuable in their own way,” said Blake with a hint of condescension in his tone.
“I was in the army too.”
“So, you’ve got discipline. You know how to hold a shield and keep your place in a line. I’m offering to teach you something different.”
“Such as?”
“The kind of blade work you need to survive in a dark alley. The sort you needed a few days ago but didn’t have.”
It was an interesting offer. “You said you weren’t good enough to take the assassin, though.”
“I’m getting old,” admitted Blake. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have a lot to teach you.” The look on the older man’s face implied that he felt he had a lot to show Will.
“Fine,” said Will, relenting. “After dinner we’ll spar. No magic. If you can convince me, then tomorrow I’ll teach you how to properly cook a roast.”
Blake held out one hand. “Agreed.” They shook on the deal.
Chapter 7
Will’s classes were predicated upon his successes and failures from the previous semester. Professor Karlovic had exempted him entirely from the core curriculum Alchemy classes, though Will still rented a lab room for personal use. Professor Dulaney had moved him to Advanced Spell Theory, moving him entirely past the second-year classes on that subject. Math had been a success, but he hadn’t been moved ahead, and Composition had been a failure. He was retaking the same class with Professor Conrad this semester.
Currently he was sitting in his last class for the day, Advanced Spell Theory. Most of his fellow students in the class were working on fifth- and sixth-order spells, while Will was working hard to manage eighth-order. In terms of difficulty, he was already well ahead of where he needed to be for the next semester’s class, but being able to master eighth-order was a personal goal for him. He wanted to be able to cast Selene’s Solution, the cleaning spell created by his wife.
Wife? It still seemed unbelievable to him when the word ran through his mind. Am I really married? He supposed that most newlyweds had trouble adjusting to the new labels, but he felt it was even more difficult in his situation. Most newlyweds get to live together.
“Do you have someplace better to be, Mister Cartwright?”
Will’s eyes snapped back into focus. Professor Dulaney had gone quiet and was now staring intently at him. Most of the class was looking back at him, but rather than show his embarrassment, Will grinned. “Yes, Professor, but I can wait until you’re done before I go.”
“Since you’re bored, perhaps you can explain to your classmates the primary use of transducers in artifice.”