Nova hovered around him for the entire rest of the day. He did not portray anything but seething harshness in his gaze, but now William knew it to be how he expressed anxiety.

He supposed that Nova did not want to go home.

" So, Nova. This is a duel by traditional imperial rules, isn't it?" he asked.

" Yes," Nova answered shortly.

" What's the win condition? What weapons are we allowed to use? What's considered a foul?"

Nova bristled.

" You rushed into accepting it without knowing?!" he demanded angrily.

" Ah. So you do like me?" William asked, teasing.

" I think you're an idiot," Nova snapped. " You're throwing your life away for no reason. The winning condition is to inflict a permanent scar on your opponent's body, but it's not against the rules to kill them."

" You've never lost one before?" William asked, interest piqued. He'd never seen any scars on Nova's body.

Not as though he'd been looking.

" Of course not," Nova answered. " Duels are how we determine who will hold the right to the crown. If I were to lose, I'd lose my position."

" How many have you fought, then? Do you have many other brothers?"

" Queen Mother keeps herself busy," Nova said, and his gaze drifted; he snapped back, changing topic. " When it comes to weapons... You're allowed one long sword, a short sword, and a dagger. There are no fouls."

William leaned back, thinking.

" What about clothing?" he asked.

Nova gave him a harsh look.

" Just wear formal clothes," he said, incredulous. " There aren't any restrictions on it. Though on Sturm, we don't have any tradition of wearing body armor."

" Good to know," William praised. " Thank you for the information, Nova."

" ... Lyena-Nova," Nova corrected.

William gave him an evaluatory look.

" Your brother said I look like a child," he said after a moment. " Do I?"

" He was exaggerating," Nova said tersely. " Children are half-covered in fur, anyway."

William smiled gamely at him, leaning a little closer.

" I'm twenty-two, you know," he said. " Perfectly legal."

The fur on Nova's ears puffed up.

" Quit acting ridiculous, Masterson," he said, looking away. " You're embarassing yourself."

" Am I? I thought you liked me... What with how concerned you've been, and all that."

Nova covered his face.

" Sweet Mother, God, Diurn's going to kill you," he said.

" You think so?"

" Of course. I've fought him thrice, and spectated eight of his other matches."

" So you don't want me to fight him?"

" I think you should withdraw, yes."

" So is that because you care about me, or because you'd rather not be honor-bound to return to your empire?" William asked, keenly observing him.

Nova's ear flicked.

" Why should I have any reason to care about you? I just think you're about to get yourself killed senselessly."

" Why are you so convinced of it?"

" Because, Masterson, you're hopelessly weak. A stiff breeze could crush you. You can't even stand up straight half the time. I've seen you trip over your own feet and smack into the wall countless times. The thought of you holding a sword would be comical if not for the fact you'd be eviscerated by him within seconds. You're going to put a dent in my honor by wasting yourself needlessly."

" That would be a shame, wouldn't it," William said. " If not a bit ironic."

He deliberately alluded to Thrace, seeking a reaction, and received none.

Nova huffed, still covering his face. William could imagine that he was bright red.

" God, you're going to die," he said. " That little cadet with a crush on you will throw herself on your funeral pyre..."

Oh, right.

" If you really think I'm going to die tomorrow, then let me clear that misconception up for you," William said. He stood. " It's late, and I need to sleep, but... I don't have any such intentions towards any of the women on the ship, Lyena. I'm not the kind of person who would hand his heart out to anyone. So don't go around accusing me of womanizing anymore, alright?"

" You can't tell me what to do."

" Good night, Nova."

" Fuck off. And withdraw from the duel."

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