“Why would he—”

“Because you’re safe, Teia. He would never dream of actually breaking his Blackguard vows, and he knows you wouldn’t, either. So your rejections don’t hurt, or not as much. It’s fun to flirt with someone you find attractive anyway. You’re practice for him to hone his confidence and his approaches—which, let’s be blunt, need practice. If you like the flirtation, fine. If you don’t like it, just once, seriously, at some time when he’s not flirting with you, tell him that you don’t appreciate it. He’ll stop. But don’t—don’t you fucking dare take him to bed. There are ways to break even that rule, if—”

“The rule against sleeping with other Blackguards?”

“Yes. But not with him, not for you. He’d fall in love with you head over heels, and that is what the rules are there to prevent. Last thing we need here is tempestuous young love, and taking sides, and grand gestures, and burning resentments, and all that horse shit. That is what gets people killed.”

“Why is this my problem?” Teia asked. “I didn’t do anything.” She just wanted to be invisible when this sort of thing came up.

“What do you want me to say, Teia? ‘You’re the woman. Can you imagine what kind of world it would be if we let men take the lead’?”

Teia saw she was kidding but not kidding. “Fine. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, listen, because you shouldn’t go do this with a chip on your shoulder. You know the Philosopher? His concept of the zoon politikon?”

Teia shook her head. “I attended my mistress’s physical training, not her tutoring. My owners didn’t want a slave girl to think I might be an equal to their daughter.”

Essel waved that away; it was a discussion for another time. “We’re social animals, Teia. All of us. Without a community, we can’t reach our proper end, our telos. We can’t become who we’re supposed to be when we’re alone. Those without a community become monsters. We can get stuck looking for a freedom that doesn’t exist, because when you’re part of something, the weakness of others puts a burden on you. Maybe even an unfair burden. But you’ll put unfair burdens on your community, too. And let me be blunt. You do. You’re inexperienced, you’re uneducated, you’re color-blind, you’re short, and you’re weak. So in this thing, you’re going to help Gav Greyling. Not because you’re the woman, but because you’re human. You’re a Blackguard. And our community, this precious little thing we have, helps each other grow and become the best us we can be. And maybe he’ll never help you back, but one of the rest of us will. Or maybe we won’t, and you’ll go through life with your ledger slightly unbalanced. If you’ve got complaints about things being unfair, take them to my friends who died at Garriston in one fucking unlucky cannon shot.

“It’s not fair. But so what? There was a scholar—more of a dramatist, really—who said, ‘Hell is other people.’ He was right, and he was a fool. Heaven is other people, too.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I kind of gave it to you right between the eyes there, didn’t I?”

Teia said nothing, though she wasn’t offended. It felt good to be treated as an equal by a full Blackguard. Apparently she didn’t need to say anything, though, because Essel went on.

“It’s uh, it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot, duty. Obligation and service and what we Blackguards owe and what we don’t. I mean, I loved Gavin Guile being my Prism. He was like my big brother and father and luxiat and the lover I could never have all wrapped up in one. Believe me, I spent more than a few nights with a lover with my eyes tight shut, imagining it was him on top of me, or under me. Mm. That sounds wrong because I started with the brother-and-father thing, doesn’t it?”

“I, uh, knew what you meant,” Teia said.

“I mean, he was our Prism from the time I was girl. I grew up on Gavin Guile. Most heroes get smaller the closer you get to them. But he’s gone. Even if we find him—and surely he would have surfaced by now, if he lived—I saw him, Teia. He was broken. Fingers cut off, eye gouged out, starved. He can’t be Prism now. I don’t know if I’d want him to be, knowing what he once was. And… you know, he’s married, too. That fantasy should have died long ago, but it’s dead now. And I don’t think I want to be a Blackguard for this new Prism. You’ve heard the rumors.”

“Um, no?” Ah shit. Apparently being in her own world so much had some real drawbacks in the gossip circle.

“That’s right, you’ve mostly pulled duty with the White. Well, by order of the commander, none of the Archers are allowed to attend Zymun alone.” She tented her eyebrows at Teia, lips pursed as if it was a significant look.

Except Teia had no idea what it signified. “Huh? Why?”

Essel sighed. “He gets grabby. Won’t take no for an answer. Samite nearly punched him in the face.”

“He laid hands on Samite?” The stocky, one-handed trainer didn’t exactly seem like his type.

“Oh hell no. Gloriana. From the cohort behind yours.”

“Oh, sure, I was there at her swearing in.” It was odd to Teia to already not be the newest, but they were inducting new Blackguards as fast as they could.

“If it weren’t wartime, we’d already have had a number of the Archers buy out their commissions because of him. That’s actually what I’m thinking of doing. Not because of him, though. Or more that he’s not Gavin. I’m thirty-five years old, Teia. I love the Blackguard. But maybe it’s time for me. I mean, after the war anyway, right? I want to get married. Not kids, you know, but a husband? The same man every night used to sound too boring to me. Maybe it still does. But the same man every day? That sounds… I dunno. Warm. Safe. Nice.”

She scowled ruefully.

“But listen to me go on. I guess that’s another thing about community. When someone who filled a certain place leaves it, someone else has to stand in. Karris used to listen to my whinging. Now she’s the White. It doesn’t seem right to bother her with all this, you know? Anyway, sorry to unload. You’re a good Blackguard, Teia. A good Archer. I’m proud to call you sister. Thanks. I feel a lot better.”

Teia had said approximately two words. “Right,” she said. Three. “Anytime.” Four.