My memories about my year ten at Graycotts end around here. For the second exam Clive and I had remained on horseback and defeated a well-known pair who was really good in jousting and horseback riding.

The Headmaster called to talk to us about the matter himself, the Professor in the office too, droning on about our tests results.

"...while Clive does have admirable skills in fighting with a sword or dagger his actions can be a bit hasty and decisive. We need the two to communicate more, I need to see Clive telling Nathaniel his plan when he stole the trophy and when he knocked the second boy off horseback. Of course at times they demonstrate understanding of one another, such as when Nathaniel exchanged his weapons with Clive in the last test."

"Great summarizing. I see," the Headmaster said.

The Headmaster always wore a half mask on his face, and his hair, black and cut like normal hair, was also a wig. It was one of those legends seniors told you and once you went and made sure of it you realized it was true.

The sun had a full light on it and his upper face was obscured by the mask tightly pressed to his face. His eyes were distant.

Clive and I stood rigidly as he nodded and noted something down on his notes.

"Enjoy your summer, boys. I heard you'll be staying here, Vagrant?" The Headmaster knew that?

"Yes, I am a vagrant," Clive said politely as always when it was to authority figures.

"I see. You can welcome Nathan right away when he returns, then," he joked.

"I will," Clive said, sending a smile my way. I felt the fire in my face.

Once we left the office for the next set of boys I pulled him over.

"Are you out of your mind? I said I'd give it a thought and I've decided it's impossible, I'm a Rottings and I need an heir!" I was out of breath as I whispered it loudly, and he stood at the wall, entertained by my aggressiveness.

"As far as I understand, you're agreeing to try it as to be my lover for a few months. Otherwise that's no chance at all," he said coolly.

"No, I will not be your lover. Don't say things like that or I'll be asking for a room transfer!" I scrunched up my faced.

"No, you can't do that!" Clive said. We were walking and we constantly stopped due to the bantering.

"...I'm sorry but no is no. I've told you, my life is written for me," I said but I felt his mind wander. "Clive!"

"Oh, sorry. I  thought of a great idea—could you actually bring me over to the Rottings House for a week this summer? Anytime is fine, I'd like to learn about being a knight from the best knight family in town."

I normally would've nodded humbly but I knew Clive of all wouldn't be serious about it. We went to his room and his roommate wasn't back yet.

"Just tell me, what do you want?" I asked.

"I don't know." Clive sat at an open window, one leg inside so I knew he wouldn't fall—and I could catch him in case. "I'm confused about being a knight, Nathan. I figured if I knew more about who I was helping, how being a knight meant I'd be a citizen and no longer a refugee I'd care for Goldenvale even more."

I hardly heard him so serious.

"Do you remember your home country?" I asked.

"I am actually from the slums," he said, looking at the trees outside. "It's a small country without access to water. We all fought for dirty water. I grew up thinking water was rare, that rain happened once in a blue moon. It's so funny thinking back now." He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the glass.

"That's sad," I said. "What about your family? Are they not here with you?"

Clive opened his pale eyes and I saw his pupils on my face in a sort of unfocused way, and with his smile it felt as though he was envious.

"Family. I wonder what is family anymore. I was chosen, Nathan. I got a patron and was enrolled here when I was thirteen. Lots of boys do."

I had heard about it, families who wanted knights in their line of succession often brought over young male refugees. These families either had no son or all their sons died. Sometimes they'd try to marry their daughter off to boys who became knights—only the title mattered.

When people in families say, "My daughter married a Knight," it didn't matter if the knight was a refugee or not, if they grew up in the slums or not. It was often this way that criteria for knights became harder and harder until we wanted that worthless title more than the beliefs.

I wasn't well-informed about the rebels the King had outlawed although my great-grandfather's name was on some scroll about the whole historical event. Maybe I should ask my father or brothers about it with Clive.

And that's how I promised I'd bring him over one week.

I hadn't really decided what was going to happen.

My father ended up having to go for important court business, and my first brother, Jonathan, was called to fight some rebel group.

My second brother, Daniel, was barely a knight. He was one of the guards who only worked when the good knights who did the guarding went to battle. A substitute. Daniel, worse of all, has only been stationed a month or two although he's graduated and passed the test after three tries five years ago.

We had Jonathan, the successful heir, currently aged twenty-nine, Daniel, the late bloomer at twenty-five, and me, future knight, at fifteen.

I was told my mother's late pregnancy in her thirties complicated things and she knew it was risky. And yet she still wanted me. I was the only one she named, and only one she didn't see grow up.

I wonder if she wished I was a knight.

Our household was therefore more empty than I made it sound. It was a big house built in imitation of a castle, we were noblemen before knights, I heard. Sometimes I thought I heard footsteps and would hurry to ask the butler if anyone was over but our butler, Friedrich, or Richie, tended to be very wordy. It helped in times it was scary, though, because I would immediately feel annoyed instead.

I asked Daniel if he could teach Clive and I some history about the Incident of Voynich. Emil Voynich was a leader of the coup d'etat and murdered, causing chaos and the knights to kill most of the rebels who were involved. The important noble families involved were all slaughtered, and nobles now meant nothing next to knights.

Daniel, who was always more of a teacher than knight, beamed and told me to bring my friend.

"He's sort of weird, and he's a vagrant with a patron." I explained and looked at Daniel who nodded.

"I won't say anything offensive, I'm not Jonathan who believes in pure Goldenvale blood. It's foolish, anyways. And I'm still more surprised that you have a friend." He was smug.

"Stop. Everyone in school makes fun of me. Was Graycotts Academy this bad when you were there?" I asked.

"Of course. The Rottings jokes. We were taught my family background and bloodline, for Heaven's sake." He sighed upon remembering it.

"No one gets close to me but this boy," I whispered. "Clive Vagrant. I don't know why. I only hope he doesn't use me."

"Let's be optimistic, Jonathan is the cynic, after all."

So Richie, who stood there, also made note to ready a guest room ready and before long, I went to academy. I didn't believe in writing letters, so I looked for Clive.

The campus was not as isolated as I had expected. I asked a professor if Clive was here.

"Well, we gather all the students who are staying in Dorm A or B, separated by their years. As an eleventh year he will be in A. What's his surname?" he asked, adjusting his monocle.

"Vagrant," I said.

"A refugee? Strange, what's his patron's surname?"

"He's never told me."

The professor gave up and brought me to Dorm A and asked the dorm master about the boys.

"Clive? Ah, his patron's surname begins with..."

Their voices lowered until I was brought to the second floor. As there were three in total I tried to make note which letter his patron's surname was, but none of the plates were labeled.

I thanked the dorm master and knocked on the door before Clive appeared.

He looked so different I laughed.

In school he was prim in his uniform with buttons all done up and tie perfect. Now he was in a white shirt so large it was like sleepwear, and shorts he looked good in that he didn't care. I would die before I wore shorts again like a schoolboy.

His eyes lit up as he rushed over, hair and shirt flying.

"Nathan! I knew you'd come! I waited everyday."

He was like a chick right from the egg, immersed in me and had his full trust in me.

"Stop lying," I said, hiding my face when I walked in and the door closed.

The window were wide open and it was warm but breezes would drift in. He had borrowed a lot of books from the library and there was a lot on the Voynich Incident and identifying magic.

"Next year we might be learning to fight and kill rebels." Clive's voice wasn't particularly bothered but awkward as he closed the books on his bed. He had no roommate. I'd imagine they had more than two dorm buildings to spare, anyways.

"I wondered a lot about it, why killing people who tried to overthrow the government was bad. When I was small I was afraid of asking," I mused.

"What about now?"

"What what about now?" I asked.

Clive shrugged "Are you still afraid of asking?"

"Killing anyone is bad. I don't agree with the rules King Ludwig has implemented, but one thing remains true—I will kill anyone to protect those I love. I don't need to ask as long as I know that."

He nodded and watched me at his desk before I sighed.

"I heard you say it to the boy on my test. You took his trophy and said, 'if it's precious you have to treasure it'. I wonder if you meant the trophy or him, or even his partner," I said.

"Ohhh," Clive grinned. "So you think about me even in the one month you didn't see me." I groaned.

"I'll be seeing you next month when school begins anyways. Also, I have good news and bad news. Good news is you can come over for a week, bad news is our only teacher would be my second brother, Daniel. It took him three tries but he's passed the knight test. He's a stationary guard despite the title, and he's unique-looking."

"How?" Clive asked.

"You'll see. Is tonight fine?"

He grinned. "You bet."