I had pressed so hard on the last line that the pen had cut the paper.
You will attend.
In the morning, I put a clean sheet over it and tried to organize what I knew. Memories from the game went in one pile, things I'd actually seen in another. The guesses needed a third pile, which soon became the largest. I kept moving the Duke's questions between them. I'd heard his words, but I couldn't be sure what he'd meant by half of them.
The door was locked. I checked it before sitting down again.
During the night, I'd found that the screen appeared when I asked for it. It also remained visible with my eyes closed. I had underlined the answers the Duke seemed to accept, and I wanted to know whether they'd helped.
"Status."
I didn't need to speak. Saying it softly gave me something to do while I listened for footsteps outside.
CERTIFIED STATUS
CORE: DAMAGED — F
FATALITY SLOTS CLEARED: 0/47
NARRATIVE DEVIATION INDEX: 0%
The zeroes caught my eye first. Then I went back to the rank. Cedric was supposed to arrive at the academy at D. F, E, D: two promotions, with less than a month to departure and a demonstration somewhere before it.
I put my palm beneath my ribs. In the game, core damage appeared as an icon. I hadn't spent much time wondering what it felt like. Now I couldn't tell how much of the tightness in my chest was damage and how much was fear.
The bell cord hung beside me. I could ask for a physician. I followed that thought as far as someone examining me, asking questions I couldn't answer, and taking a report to the Duke.
"Show the cause."
DETAILED CAUSAL RECORD: SEALED
ACCESS CONDITION: AUTHENTICATED ORIGIN EVIDENCE
I copied the lines onto the clean sheet. No explanation of what would qualify as evidence. I left a gap beneath them and tried another question.
"Show the earliest fatality."
Forty-seven identifiers filled the display in columns. Most wouldn't let me inspect their conditions in full. I recognized enough of the titles to start searching for the entrance examination: the courtyard, the fight Cedric insisted on finishing after he'd already lost, the alarm on his opponent's face. In one route the player could intervene, but too late. I couldn't remember which examiner had the authority to stop it.
I was trying to recover that name when I noticed the Duke's assessment among the other entries.
I lifted the clean sheet. The torn instruction was still underneath. I'd spent the night surviving dinner and the morning planning for the academy; somehow I'd allowed myself to put this in between, as if it were only an appointment.
I drew an arrow from the assessment entry I'd copied to You will attend. The slot numbers weren't telling me what happened first.
"How do I clear the assessment?"
COMPLETE SOLUTION: NOT PROVIDED
Another line appeared beneath it.
COMMENTARY: A son of Valdrake should welcome an opportunity to demonstrate superiority.
I wrote demonstrate superiority below the arrow. My hand had reached the end of the second word before I stopped. With an F-rank core? I looked from the note to the screen, trying to find a condition I'd missed.
"Do I have to do that to clear it?"
NO. COMMENTARY.
Outside, a broom caught on a door frame. It scraped again and moved on. I watched the ink spreading where I'd left the nib against the page, then lifted it and crossed out the words.
They'd looked like an instruction under those numbers. I hadn't even liked the advice.
"Can a commentary statement change a certified number?"
NO.
I gave the fields and the commentary separate columns. Then, because I'd just copied down a plan to get myself hurt, I asked whether my understanding of a certified field could be wrong.
COMMENTARY: Evidently.
A laugh escaped me. It sounded odd in Cedric's throat. I left a space beside that answer too, although I had nothing to put there.
The deviation index took longer. What I could get from the Ledger amounted to recorded departures from expected outcomes; there were consequences at thresholds I would need to examine properly. I asked for my status again. F. Zero cleared. Zero deviation. The underlined answers from dinner lay beside my wrist.
I set down the pen.
The examination was weeks away. The screen offered no active countdown, no appointed hour or opponent. I would have to find out the academy's rules, who would be present, and how to stop a fight without Cedric's reputation obliging me to continue. But first I needed to try something smaller than a fight. I didn't even know what this body could manage on its own.
I folded the Duke's instruction inside the clean sheet and turned the remaining pages face down. The sweeping had stopped. When I opened the door, a servant was gathering dust into a pan.
"Which practice court is free after lunch?"
He named the covered court. I could have the hour before the next lesson.
"Shall I request an observer, my lord?"
Through the sheet I was holding, I could feel the torn edge of the instruction.
"No. I need it to myself."
He nodded and went back to the pan. I returned to the desk to put the papers away. There was space for another question below the last one, and I still had the whole morning.
I shut the drawer.