[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/WbB6nZmm/373e0ca06a44ee67c49939abb2f77c34.png[/img][hr][h2][color=#EDC700]...Who Are You Again?[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

Julian's thoughts had been elsewhere -- a combination of somber recollections and future hopes that swirled and blurred until it all became indistinct, leaving only the view of the courtyard below and the specks of dust that floated aimlessly in the half-light. In such a state, it took her a moment to even realize she was being spoken to -- as Nathaniel neither looked at her directly while he spoke, nor did he use a name that was familiar to her. "Julian" was close enough to her own name to be familiar, but it took her a moment to associate "Baker" with herself. Just as soon as she managed to connect those dots, however, she realized that the rest of his words didn't make sense to her either.

He was talking about... sparring, or something. But then why did he call it a rematch? They hadn't even had their first day, so how would she have -- Oh. She hadn't really bothered to remember the face of her opponent in her debut spar, but the name "Nathaniel Lothwren" had sounded familiar, so then obviously...

[color=#EDC700]"Eh?! You're that sucker from last week?!"[/color] She exclaimed.

...Unfortunately, at times like this, Julian's mouth moved a little faster than her brain. Her tone, for what little it was worth, was incredulous, yet matter-of-fact. She didn't draw out her words to mock him, or feign politeness and beat around the bush, or laugh or even seem overly satisfied with herself -- that was just genuinely the first descriptor that came to mind. A naive, careless, overconfident opponent expecting an easy win, who had, in turn, presented her with an easy dupe. She'd feigned timidity and fear, then raised her sword as if to make a reckless charge, luring him to try to block her head on -- then, the moment she got close, she'd let loose the handful of sand she'd slipped into her pocket, blinding him and then disarming him the moment he flinched, instinctively loosening his grip on his weapon to try to rub his eyes. A few quick blows and it was over, and beyond that, she'd hardly bothered to remember it. The name and face of the boy she'd defeated... Those things hadn't been important to her. Since any opponent she faced would no doubt be far superior to her in training, she hadn't even bothered to ask around or find out if her defeated adversary had even been someone of note. After all, the mountain standing in her path was already far taller than she could fathom -- what good would it do to know its exact height or the futility of trying to scale it? Those things would only have held her back. So, she had just marched resolutely forward, until the mountain gave way and she found herself standing at its summit.

But unfortunately, it seemed that her opponent hadn't felt the same way. He berated her, with the spite born of his wounded pride only barely concealed beneath a thin veneer of dignity, speaking of "honor" and demanding the opportunity to "win it back." Julian's shoulders slumped. She hadn't thought of that, but she supposed she should have anticipated this. This boy wasn't some nobody. Whoever he might have been, his skills or family prestige had earned him the position of Second Seat [i]despite[/i] his failure -- and at the Prince's right hand, no less! So then... how much higher might he have been allowed to soar had she [i]not[/i] bested him so disgracefully? This cramped room, this painfully obvious attempt at provocation by the higher-ups... It was all to rub salt in his wounds and remind him of that failure, then -- of the way he'd been held back.

Julian wasn't without sympathy. She knew how it felt to have an unattainable dream, and to be derided by others for circumstances beyond one's own control. Never once had she stopped to think, either, how struggling for her own sake to grasp that dream would affect others around her. She had never considered that her own victory meant someone else's defeat, or that her success would leave someone who shared her dreams to wallow in miserable failure. Surely, he was... No, rather, he had every right to be angry. She'd have been pissed as hell, had she been in his shoes.

...But even so...

Even so...!

[color=#EDC700]"...Why would I do that? That's stupid. I'm supposed to spar you again now that you know exactly how I fight, when I don't know the first thing about you or what you can do?"[/color]

She looked at him with the expression of one who'd just been told to empty an ocean with a spoon. What he was asking was not only stupid, but was actually just an invitation to make a fool out of herself in front of every single knight cadet in their year, and make the Knight-Commanders question their decision to offer her a spot in the first place! After she'd come this far, there was no way she'd throw the results of her effort away and go back to starving on the streets just to assuage some noble boy's wounded pride, no matter how sympathetic she might have been to his circumstances! He might have said it was "honorable," but all that really meant was that he could do whatever he was good at, but she couldn't use any of her skills to even the playing field. It was an obvious sham, no matter how she looked at it -- a near guaranteed win where all the conditions were now in his favor, on top of the overwhelming advantage of experience he had on his side! Not to mention...

[color=#EDC700]"Not to mention, if you win, you get to make yourself look good. If I beat the same person twice, I get... what, exactly?"[/color]

It wouldn't help advance her position, nor was it necessary for her to prove anything when she'd already demonstrated her abilities in their last match. Of course, even if he offered her some kind of material reward for winning, she still wouldn't take the offer -- but that didn't mean she wasn't insulted, either, that he just assumed she'd do something so stupid when he wasn't even trying to make it worth her while to take the bait! "Honor" wouldn't fill her belly, after all -- and judging by the quick shake of his head he gave from behind Nathaniel's back, Prince Rossweine agreed with her decision -- which reassured her that her would-be rival would have a hard time pulling rank on her to force her to comply, either.

...At any rate, if she was going to have to deal with this for the rest of her time as a trainee... This was gonna get really awkward, wasn't it? Geez, that glare... if looks could kill, she'd have been shriveling up right about now. And this was gonna be her roommate? She'd be lucky not to wake up with a knife between her ribs... Well, okay, that was probably unlikely given that the boy was nobility and obviously couldn't hide a body or cover up a crime scene to save his life, and unlike a refugee camp, people would actually [i]care[/i] if somebody turned up dead here, but still -- talk about getting off on the wrong foot.