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You led Magnus to the Women’s Dormitory where you stayed at the Academy, and a few wary women students looked surprised to see you leading a man by the arm. Haughty glares that you liked to think were jealousy, not bewilderment.
The key was fished out of your shoe, and you opened your door. Held it wide. “Y’ can come in.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t you going in to change?”
You rolled your eyes. “God, never mind, then.”
When you came out from your room again, you’d lost the baroque red silks, and replaced them with something much more practical, and of a style echoing the lands of your turbulent lifetime.
Plenty of midriff, top tight to your chest to show off what you had there. Time for your pretty man to see what that dress had been hiding, and what Yuliana lacked. Tough leather short jacket, fingerless gloves, dark tights to keep kickup off your legs. This jacket was new- this was a good time to break it in. All your concealed arms were transferred as well.
Girly Hair hadn’t ever been visibly appreciative of your sense of dress, and was nonplussed when you stood and waited for comment.
“You tired of red, I take it?”
The last thing to go had been the ribbon set at the front of your head, now replaced with a pair of goggles. Slimmer, less heavy ones than for tanking. “This suits me better, don’t it?”
“It’s no less audacious. I’ve not seen you wear something so close to your legs before.”
You grinned up at Magnus. Maybe you ought to wear shorts more often. “Speaks for itself in a better voice I’d say.” He could try and be overly gentlemanly if he wanted, but as Hell said a few times, no man could help being hungry when they smelled fresh bread. You’d have his praise for your looks whether he voiced it or not.
When you departed from the dormitory, on the path out again, wondering what you might show Magnus next, you saw an unexpected person. Alone, small, yet her posture was supremely confident as though she stood a giant rather than diminutive as an upright twig, a loose cardigan over her shoulders and arms, light as befitted the current warmth. She stood in your path even as you approached, and clearly, was waiting for you to cross.
“…Huh,” you said to the woman, guarded. “You’re that Von Blum girl, aren’t you?”
“Sergeant Anya Nowicki, Officer Candidate,” The redhead said, “Retinue of my brother-in-law. Indeed, I am Mathilda Von Blum. I wanted to speak with you.” She glanced at Magnus, “Preferably with a small allowance of privacy.”
“I will leave you two for a moment,” Magnus said, “But Lady Nowicki hasn’t had much company with me for some time, so we’d prefer for you to be quick about it.”
