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Kato huffed. She was goading him. That much was obvious. But that particular barb stung, and he pushed himself to stand.

Half a heartbeat later, he was in front of her, wisps of aether curling off his skin and clothing like smoke. “Could Skye do this?” Fast as an adder,his hand shot out, and he grabbed her clipboard. By the time she noticed, he’d already scuttled out of her reach. “Probably not. While I might lack golden boy’s brawn, I’ve learned to adapt in other ways. And what the hell is it with you and the Marquess anyway? Why do you spend so much time kissing his ass? Is it perfumed? Does he stick rose petals up there?”

Eula growled and reached for her clipboard, but he nudged his aether and pushed off with his legs. He was instantly standing a few yards away.

“Ivain Castaro is a better man than you could ever hope to be,” she snapped.

“A good leader doesn’t play favorites. He’s only punishing me because of Skye.”

“Skye hasn’t said a single word against you.”

“Bullshit. I’m the best crafter in this city, and Castaro has me doing menial labor.”

“You want to prove yourself? How about you stop whining?” A flash of her aether and she was suddenly very close, her fist barreling for his face. Drawing on a tendril of his own aether, he immediately sidestepped, grabbing her fist and enjoying perhaps a little too much the way her eyes widened in surprise. He’d always preferred speed over strength.

Smirking, he harnessed her momentum, heaving her over his shoulder like he would a sack of grain.

But instead of going flying, Eula countered, twisting her body midair with cat-like grace. She landed in a crouch, her eyes never leaving his as she slowly rose to her full height.

Kato smiled. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m not,” Eula replied flatly. She held up the clipboard, and he refrained from telling her thathe’d let her snatch it. That throw had won him a lot of coin back at the University, but she’d figured it out immediately.

This was an unexpected but not unwelcome turn of events, and he looked her up and down with new appreciation, noting that despite her words to the contrary, a glimmer of respect now shone in her eyes as well. “I suppose I’m glad to know that the woman holding my leash earned her position on the battlefield rather than the bedroom.”

He’d been hoping for a reaction, but Eula merely arched a brow. “Trust me when I say I’m proficient at both.” Kato made no effort to hide his smile at the implication. “Though regarding Ivain,” she added, “you’re underestimating him.”

Kato snorted. “What did that man do to earn such loyalty?”

Eula looked back to her clipboard, and he got the feeling that she was stalling, searching for the right words.

“Ivain Castaro,” she said carefully, “was the only one to give me a chance after my good for nothing grandfather gambled away my family’s coin. He looked past these three measly lines on my arm and saw that I was capable of more, even if I didn’t have the money or the connections to get a spot at the University. He gave me a future when I had none, and he’d do the same for you if you could just pull your head out of your ass long enough to show him that you’re more than what the rumors say. There’s no room in this organization for clowns.”

Kato huffed, shaking his head as he looked away. Of course, his reputation would precede him—and immediately kill any chance of successhe might’ve had otherwise. “A wise man doesn’t base his opinion on assumptions.”

“He does when those assumptions are confirmed by action.” Throwing her clipboard on a nearby table, she grabbed his wrist, pushing up his sleeve. “You think I haven’t seen these lines on your arm? You’re barely 200, and you’ve already earned your seventh seal. It takes most mages centuries longer to get that far in their training, if they ever get there at all. That means you’re smart, and at one point in your life, you actually gave a shit.”

“And what makes you think that I don’t now?”

“Because in the time that I’ve known you, all you’ve done is blame your problems on other people. You whine and complain about how life’s not fair, but guess what? Everyone that lives long enough to get hurt figures that out. I figured it out when I was 32 and had to work as a sellsword to feed my baby sister because my parents still insisted on living like we had money. It wasn’t fair. None of it. But when I got knocked on my ass because of someone else’s selfish decisions, I made the choice to get back up. You have yet to show me that you’re capable of doing the same.”

Kato went quiet. Eula was direct—he’d give her that. The woman aimed to kill.

She took a breath. “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices,” she said a little more gently this time. “Number one: you can play into every assumption Ivain has made about you and your character. You can go on as you are, complaining and refusing to take ownership of your life. You can keep fixing our toilets even though it’s a waste of your talent and skill.”

She still hadn’t let go of his hand, and he watched as she traced the lines on his wrist with a featherlight touch. “I don’t like that option,” he said.

“Then I suggest you go with option two.”

“Which is?”

Her fingers closed around his, and he was suddenly aware of just how close she was standing. She smelled like sweat and machine oil, but also—lilacs.

Her eyes lifted, finding his, and she whispered, “You can carry my crates.”

Kato frowned, yanking his hand from hers. “You just ruined a really nice moment.”

She shrugged. “Did you not hear what I said about the crates?”