“Temper, temper.”

“So, you’re ready to play. A good start my love but, I’m going to win in the end.”

“Hold that thought,” I say, turning to the stairs as Lady Filagree appears wearing one of my wife’s dresses. She’s a lot softer than I thought she’d be, with supple thighs and a plenty of curves. A visage enhanced by the way her loose, damp hair frames her face, taking the edge off her resting glare. I forget that most casters aren’t martial fanatics like my wife. “Lady Filagree. A dress suits you much better than armor if you don’t mind me saying.”

Her sharp eyes go between us, then to the table and its missing piece on the other side of the room, before finally landing on Bell who’s still holding the bottle of Herbanacle. She scoffs and double-times down the rest of the stairs. “Thanks for the shower. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Whoa, slow down. We’d love for you to stay for dinner. Right?”

Kierra matches my smile. “Of course. The pet has a way in the kitchen. You’ll regret it if you depart.”

She doesn’t look convinced. Luckily, Geneva comes in with impeccable timing, looking adorable in an apron and carrying a wooden spatula. “Dinner is ready if everyone would like to take a seat.”

Pressured by the situation, Lady Filagree sighs and heads for the dining room. I follow, Bell trailing behind me, and Kierra bringing up the rear. Our guest takes a seat at the middle of the table, setting herself up to be equally far away no matter what end we prefer. I counter her strategy by sitting directly across from her, grinning at her frown.

Kierra drops down next to me. Bell jumps up to set the bottle of Herbanacle on the table before running to the living room for the other glasses. “Would you like some?” I ask, holding up an empty glass. “Fair warning, it’s pretty strong.”

“I’d love to see what you think is strong.”

I pour a generous amount and slide the glass over. She bravely swallows a mouthful without pause. I wait for her to start hacking but instead, she lets out a pleased hum.

“Oh, that’s good. Smooth.”

Trust the fire caster to handle a little fire. “Elven brewer.”

“Half,” Kierra says. “Owns a bar in the Myriad Zone.”

She motions towards the bottle and I pass it over. “So, is that what the two of you do for fun? Bar hopping?”

“When she isn’t trying to beat immorality into me,” I say flippantly. I pause, turning to Kierra. “That reminds me. We haven’t been out anywhere in a while. What with your little club.”

“And your duties as an initiate.”

“I was thinking of exploring the dark side of Quest with my friends. Want to come with?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Alana gets so nervus around me.”

“With good reason. Alana will be fine. If you want, you can take a friend too. Maybe Lady Filagree.” I look at the redhead. “You could even show us a decent spot to find some entertainment.”

“You’re too young for the entertainment you’re looking for,” Lady Filagree scoffs. “The only thing an initiate should be focused on is passing your qualifiers. They will kick you out if you fail, noble or not.”

“I’m not worried about those.”

“Then maybe you’re worried about your acolyte years. It’s true you can stay as long as you want once you prove you’re not a complete moron by passing your initiate year but there are only about a dozen free classes. You want to specialize? Go on hunts? Find the connections that people spend an obscene amount of money to attend this place for? You need to be invited into an instructor’s course.” She chuckles. “You don’t make a good enough first impression for that.”

I fake offense. “Ridiculous. Who could resist my charms?”

Her snort of derision is answer enough. “Everyone wants the geniuses. You’re not one or I would have heard of you. That means, if you want any chance of being recommended into one of the better courses, you must impress them at the qualifiers. It’s not enough to pass. You have to exceed all expectations.”

“Ah, well. Luckily, I don’t have plans to enter any of the advanced courses.”

“Except Advanced Foundation.”

 I turn to glare at my wife who grins. “If I want to take Advanced Foundation, I’m sure her recommendation will be enough.”

“Ah, right. Summoner. You’ll be trying to enter their Hall. Good luck with that.”

“…what do you mean?”

“I hope you’re not that innocent. Look, you’ve got two elementals following you around. Both of them are intelligent and possess reasonable strength. Stronger than you, for sure, which says a lot about your skill.”

I’m flattered. “Thank you.”

“Not finished. The point is, you’re capable. That means one of two things for you; either you fall in line with the Grand Summoner or he does his best to push you out.”

“Push me out?”

“He has the final say about what happens in that Hall. He can restrict your access to their records, make sure the instructors snub you, cut you out from their resources. The usual dirty tricks. He’ll use anything he can to stop you from stealing acclaim he wants for himself and his proteges. He has to. The Hall wants results.”

“Is he going to try and murder me in my sleep?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“Oh. That’s fine then.”

“…you’re not worried?”

“No? I mean, like you said, I don’t expect anything less.”

“How do you plan to advance as a summoner if all of your teachers are actively sabotaging you?” she bites out, sounding a bit offended. Oh, was I supposed to cower and thank her for her warning? Saints, why are there so many dominant personalities around me? Where’s the delicate flower that’ll faint at the first sign of adversity? Cling to my arm and pout cutely when I don’t show her enough attention? Call my name sweetly?

Sigh.

“Firstly, Lady Filagree, I am a Tome. I should take offense that you would even suggest there is something anyone here can teach me about summoning. Not only because after a certain point it becomes a matter of style rather than technique, but because I’m a great summoner. End of.”

Kierra chuckles.

“Second, the only thing they could possibly withhold from me is their records, which all I can say to that is petty. I’m from the oldest summoner family in the kingdom. I have plenty of records of my own.” Not to mention those from the Grimoire family and everything in Geneva’s head. “And third—”

“Ah, now you’re just showing off.” The redhead downs her drink. “Fine, forget I said anything.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

“I don’t care.”