Our final year of schooling at Graycotts Academy the Headmaster had found the best way to punish me—he took Clive from me.

I became partners with, wait for it, Wyatt Whitecastle. He was also bumped down from doing jobs related to killing rebels, as Will didn't anymore. I asked Will about it, but now I shared a room with the two boys, and Clive had his own room and messenger who came often.

Clive missed classes more and more, and I had to suffer the hatred of my partner. Wyatt was always trying to attack me during practice and I was shielding myself for real, drawing back almost all the time until I fell and the boys nearby laughed.

"Grow a pair!" Wyatt shouted every time it happened. Maybe he realized I wasn't actually fighting him anymore, but thinking of Vic made me lose strength in my arms.

I could barely move with a weapon in my hand, so I focused on studying, and Will was a nice roommate.

To the other boys Will and Clive were a pair and they practiced together, but it was often Clive teaching Will how to be on the offense. As Will recounted their day I would listen with great interest and feel an ounce closer to Clive.

When it became time for the ball again, like last year, for some reason they chose seniors to direct the freshmen, and when I saw Clive volunteer I couldn't help but put my arm up, too, pretending to be ignorant of him to my far left.

"Clive Vagrant, Joseph Hollowhood, Logan—don't make me point out your grades in Latin—Nathaniel Rottings, you may go. Is that three boys from my class? Yes," the professor spoke aimlessly.

I was scared for a moment Logan would get picked so I hurried to close my books and ask Will to put it in my room later, and filed out the door.

The moment we walked through the hall, only a few boys filing out and not talking to us, Clive turned to me.

He was shorter now, maybe by three inches, but he turned and he gave me the familiar smile I saw at times.

"How's class, Rottings?" he asked.

It was like the past. I hide my grin as I turned away. "I don't recall being your friend."

"But we had the same classes for three years!"

We both paused and then laughed, falling a bit behind the other boys.

"I'm passing every class, of course," I said.

"But you should be careful during practice. I heard you've got a fierce partner."

"Yes. I heard you teach your partner. I expected that from you," I whispered.

"My partner is nice. I don't think he had what my last partner had. I'm sure I'd hurt him if I really tried," Clive's said, holding my hand.

Our hands stayed intertwined as we stayed outside, not walking into the ballroom just yet.

"Don't hurt Will. He's my roommate and I don't want to have to bandage him all the time. My old roommate always did that for me."

"And so did my old roommate." Clive breathed out the cold air like puffs of clouds. "I really miss him. How is he?"

"Your old roommate is doing well, don't worry. He will find a way to skip the ball, maybe wait outside until you can come." I looked at his frozen face. "Just to see him, or only if you can," I sputtered quickly, afraid of rejection.

Clive turned and then moved his hair to show me his earlobes. The earring was still on.

I scrambled to show my earrings, and choked back sobbed laughs.

Clive was crying, too, but spoke. "I mean, who leaves their lover waiting alone?" He wiped his tears. "Let's go in, you can go in first."

I held Clive's hand and squeezed it before I went in to the group of boys, freshmen all holding flowers and only a few seniors telling them where to put it. Most seniors used it as an excuse to skip class and were talking and laughing. Noah Orwell waved me over.

"Nathan, what are you doing here?" he asked, but seriously, and my gut told me it was my family.

"What is it?" I asked slowly.

"Well, your father had a huge inauguration! He as well as your brothers and soon, you, are the First Knight, now!" He laughed and tension made me slowly breath out and laugh awkwardly among them.

"My father never writes me, he's too busy. But why did he get chosen?" Father always complained it was never us, in our grandfathers' day Whitecrosses were always chosen. First Knight seemed a bit useless to me, they stood by the King's side and were more of an aide than a real knight.

"Really? You can write your brothers, at least! It's a huge deal," Noah kept saying.

I heard the door open and turned, but this time Clive was talking with Arthur and Kieran. Noah obviously wanted to leave me so he slapped my shoulder and said "Congratulations!" and left to greet Clive.

If it wasn't for the Headmaster I'd be greeting Clive instead of them, too. What did I care about them? Nothing.

I only wanted to be with Clive in the academy, although I knew he was killing as always and I was the only one freed of the dirty deed.

***

The ball was pleasantly designed, but unlike last year's ball which was centered on flowers everywhere, this year we had a new idea. In the center of the ball was a beautiful rose garden of different shades, tulips creating two smaller circles.

As Clive had devised, he said last years ball the girls and boys were scared to go up to one another but now, able to admire flowers, they would naturally be next to one another or look at the same flower, starting conversations.

There were a few tables like before, but they had no seats. The chairs were lined up haphazardly around flowers, but to get to the table where the food was they'd have to leave their seats. This way, once again, you would be forced to talk to strangers.

At the day of the ball I snuck out as soon as I could, after having some finger sandwiches and flan. I watched the ball from inside and admired Clive's great understanding of the human psyche.

When Clive met me, already noticing I was gone, we walked outside far from the ball were lovebirds were meeting up.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked.

I smiled at the ground before looking at him. There was a million things I could say, so much I missed about him, all the uncertainty in us.

"Let's forget being knights. I don't want to be caught in drama," I whispered. "Come on, Clive, save me."

He looked at me, eyes like his earrings, and he rested his head on my shoulder, cheeks pressing to my chin. I reached out and stroke his hair, smelling as fresh as the wind rustling through the trees.

"If only boys could marry boys."

"I'd marry you in a heartbeat," I said.

"But I would still be a vagrant. I don't want to dirty your life—the Rottings can get away with this Revolution. You might soon be a prince."

"It's foolish, it'll never happen!"

I snuggled my face towards his. Both of us had grown into our formal evening clothes, and the somber black we both wore reminded me of the cloaks.

If there is a reason to justify it, my book had said, if they teach you, protect you, challenge you, you should love them. It is a reason.

Clive was my love. My true love.

We sobbed, aware it might be the last night we would be together, and I was aware. Too aware.

"The way your father is rising up is dangerous. The headmaster wants me to keep an eye on him." He sounded nervous. "Would you despise me if I was told to kill him?"

"I would," I said. He choked out a laugh.

"Of course. I'm stuck. I don't know what I'm going to do. Listen to my patron, or be thrown back into the hellhole I was born."

"Is that what you always think of?" I whispered. "Is that the fear looming over you?"

"I can't help it, it's scary. And I'll be so far from you." Clive seemed so small in the large forest, his tears warm in the cold. I reached out to touch his cheek, but my fingers were just as cold.

Inside there was festivities and waltzing had began, and Clive lifted his head up, eyes red, and I held the stance.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" I asked.

He laughed and held me, and we both struggled before getting the position right, and then we began to step into the slightly damp dirt, trees rustling in an ominous way, and I couldn't tell him what I wanted to.

I couldn't say goodbye.