First the Gold on the Head, Then the Pearls in the Mouth

May, 789 UC, Heinessen

Annerose discovered that it was much easier to do well in her classes when she was not losing most of a night’s worth of sleep, every night. She excelled in them. During freshman year, all students took a scattering of courses across all disciplines, which seemed to be a way to sort students into where they properly belonged. Annerose assumed that she was heading for the administrative track, since that was where the vast majority of women seemed to end up (either that, or in the Officer Physician program), but she found she enjoyed all of her classes, much more than she had ever enjoyed any class before, which left her with the nagging sense that perhaps she shouldn’t be so hasty to follow the road she thought she had carved out for herself.

She was so focused on her schoolwork for the first several weeks that she failed to develop much of a social life. She had never been particularly outgoing for her own sake, so this didn’t so much ‘not bother her’ as go completely unnoticed, until, one day, as she was heading out of her one elective, chorus, she was stopped by someone calling her name.

“Hey, Annerose, could you stay here for a second?”

She turned back around. The person calling her was seated at the piano. She had wavy blonde hair that fell around her ears in the fashion of so many of the female students of the Academy, but she wasn’t a student-- she was the person who was hired to play the piano for the choir practices. Edwards, something.

She smiled, trying not to appear uncomfortable with the sudden attention as everyone else filed out of the room. She had thought that she had blended in with the few other sopranos. That was one thing that was very different about the Academy than her high school: when the gender ratio in the school was so unbalanced, the choir gender makeup was also the opposite of the norm. Annerose was one of only a few freshman women in the choir (standing out, of course, by their freshly shorn heads).

“Did you need something?” Annerose asked.

Edwards stood up from behind the piano. “Oh, no, not really,” she said. “I just was wondering if you were busy later tonight.”

“Um,” Annerose said, her hands tightening on the straps of her bag. “I beg your pardon?”

Edwards laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you, and sorry if I’m sounding too crazy, but I noticed that you’re by yourself a lot when you leave class, and I was wondering if you’d like to join the OA’s women’s society. We meet Thursday nights at seven.”

“Thank you for the offer, Ms. Edwards.”

“Oh, please, just Jessica,” she said with a smile. “It’s not a very formal thing, more of a social club.”

“I’ll think about it,” Annerose said.

“You should come. It’s very fun.”

“I have a lot of homework.”

Jessica leaned forward over the piano, and her fingers idly plinked out a few keys. “You can spare a couple hours, I’m sure. Besides, it’s a great way to meet people who can help you out, if you ever need anything. Women have to stick together around here, you know.”

“I’m not sure what I could need.”

“Well, if I can’t convince you, I can’t convince you,” Jessica said, seeming disappointed. She sat back down at the piano bench. “But it’s a standing invitation, if you change your mind.”

“I’ll think about it.” She felt a little bad for clearly disappointing Jessica, so she said, “You play piano very well.”

“Oh, well, I get paid to do it,” she said with a smile. “So I have to earn my keep. Between this and teaching music theory, this is like my relaxing time.”

“There’s a music theory course here?”

“Oh, no, I’m only moonlighting here. My main courses are over at Thernusen College. I’m mostly here as a favor to my dad,” she said with a laugh.

“Your dad?”

“He works here. Bursar’s office.”

“Do you mind if I ask--”

“Of course not.”

Annerose was thrown off balance. “If this isn’t even your main teaching location, why are you inviting me to the women’s society here?”

“I’ve been going to their meetings for years,” she said. “Teachers can come. Considering the desperate shortage of women, I qualify enough. And I think it’s sometimes nice that I can provide a bit of an outside perspective. Not a soldier, after all.”

Annerose nodded, slowly. “I see.”

Jessica’s fingers danced silently over the piano keys, ghosting out a melody. Annerose studied her, and Jessica noticed the study. “You play?”

“I used to,” Annerose said. “Before I came to Heinessen, my house had a piano.”

Jessica scooted off the piano bench and gestured for Annerose to sit. “Let me hear you,” she said.

Annerose looked at her, and Jessica smiled. “Come on, I don’t bite.”

“I’m always telling my brother that he should make more friends,” Annerose said as she sat down at the piano. “I suddenly find myself understanding his position slightly better.”

Jessica laughed.

It had been a long time since Annerose had played piano, so she ran her fingers over the keys just to reacquaint herself with the feeling, then closed her eyes, searching her memory for half memorized sheet music of years past. She settled on a rather melancholy piece by Brahms. It was the piece she recalled she had been practicing right before they left Odin, though only the beginning of it came easily to her mind and hands now. Playing it with her eyes closed gave her an unpleasant feeling of being back in the body of her younger self, and she shook herself out of it with a start when she came to the end of the selection, or at least what she remembered of the piece.

“And you say you haven’t practiced in years,” Jessica said. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I have a good memory, I suppose,” Annerose pulled her fingers away from the keys, reaching down to pick up her bag.

“You have a talent. Such things are wasted on soldiers. You should play more, though.”

“Maybe,” Annerose said.

“I’ll let you go,” Jessica said. “I see that I’ve pressured you enough.”

Annerose nodded and turned away, but as she reached the door, Jessica called out, “But really, do think about coming. We’d love to have you.”

“I will,” Annerose said, then escaped.

When Annerose returned to her room after dinner that night, she found Kino sitting on the floor of the hallway outside.

“Forget your key?” she asked, fishing around in her pockets for her own.

Kino silently held up her own key, eyes closed, head leaned back against the wall. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“What, why?”

Without opening her eyes, Kino raised her eyebrows, voice very flat. “Discretion is the better part of valor.”

“I don’t think that saying applies to the situation,” Annerose said, still not quite understanding, hand on the doorknob.

“Besides, I think they’ve wedged a chair under the handle to stop anyone from coming in.”

“Who has?”

“Ms. Discretion and Ms. Valor.” And she pronounced ‘Valor’ to rhyme with Sylva’s last name, Calor.

“Gods above,” Annerose said. “Isn’t that”-- she lowered her voice to a whisper -- “against the rules?”

“I’m sure we’re both capable of being discreet for the sake of the peace,” Kino said. “Aren’t you?”

Annerose frowned, and Kino let the silence stew in between them. “As long as I don’t have to see it,” she finally said.

“Then I recommend you don’t go in.”

“Where else am I supposed to go?”

“You’re welcome to sit here and pretend that we’ve both lost our keys,” Kino said.

“I appreciate the offer for the company,” Annerose said, glancing at the door. “But I think I’ll pass.”

Kino shrugged. “As you like.”

Annerose turned and walked back down the hallway, glancing at her watch. Six thirty. Maybe if she went to the women’s society meeting, that would kill enough time to let her back into her room without awkwardness.

The women’s society meetings were held in a room in the student union building, and Annerose arrived a few minutes early, awkwardly taking a seat at a table in the back and watching everyone who came in. Most of the members of the club were students, all of widely varying appearance aside from the uniform they were all wearing. A few staff members wandered in, as well, but they sat together at their own table, forming their own little subgroup. Jessica wasn’t among them, and Annerose began to wonder if the person who had extended the invitation to her wasn’t going to show.

Jessica did walk in, though, laughing and talking with a student who was definitely not a woman-- a young man with floppy, light hair and freckles. She scanned the room, saw Annerose, and came over to her.

“You came!” she said with a bright smile. “Mind if I sit here?”

“You aren’t going to sit with the other staff?”

“They’ll survive without me. Oh, I’m being rude, I should make the introductions here.” She turned to the man at her side. “Dusty, this is Annerose von Müsel, from my chorus group. Annerose, this is Dusty Attenborough.”

“Pleasure,” Annerose said, and shook hands with him.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Dusty replied. “I assume your invitation to sit allows me to take the remaining chair?”

“Go ahead.”

Dusty-- Annerose wasn’t sure if that was a nickname or not-- and Jessica took their seats. “Would you mind if I ask a rude question?” Annerose said, looking across at him.

“You’re about to ask what he’s doing at a women’s society meeting, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, well, it’s a silly answer,” Dusty said. “I’m the leading contributor for the Liberty Bell, the student paper.” He took out a notebook and pen from his bag, clicking it open. “I report on as many student activities as will have me.”

“I see,” Annerose said, though she did not exactly see.

“He writes up a positive column for us once a month,” Jessica said. “Apparently, the editor-in-chief said that having an actual society member write the column would be compromising the integrity of the paper, so, no women.”

“And why did you volunteer for the job?” Annerose asked.

“Well, women have human rights,” Dusty said. “I figure that someone has to be the voice of reason saying that in the newspaper.”

“How gentlemanly of you,” Annerose said.

“Happy to help!” He seemed genuine. “Besides, the busier I’m kept with working on the paper, the less I have to think about schoolwork.”

“I don’t think--” Annerose began, but then the meeting of the women’s society began, and their conversation was forced to come to a close, as the president of the society, apparently a senior from her uniform, made a bit of an address and talked about the activities that the society would be engaging in over the next few months: a fundraiser for a local domestic violence shelter, an intramural sports competition that they were putting together a team for, a hiking trip, and a dance that they were planning. Dusty took fastidious notes on the proceedings and Annerose found watching him do that more interesting than listening to the actual business of the meeting. He circled the word ‘dance’ several times, then drew some squiggles and arrows connecting the words ‘ticket sales’ and ‘fundraiser’, writing ‘lie by implication’ with a smiley face underneath the main connecting thread.

After the body of the meeting, the event half-disbanded into just a social gathering, with snacks and drinks laid out, and people standing around chatting. Jessica pulled Annerose around after her and introduced her to the vast majority of people there. Despite herself, Annerose found herself enjoying the night.

“Are you going to sign up for intramurals?” Jessica asked when they ended up standing near the sign up sheet. She picked it up and looked it over. “I can’t, because it’s only for students, but you should.”

“You pressure me into a lot of things, for being a person who just started speaking to me about five hours ago,” Annerose said, but without malice.

“All you soldier types are good at sports.” She thrust the clipboard at Annerose. “Write yourself down on the team; they need a last member.”

“What sport even is it?”

“Uh, lacrosse. Ever played?”

“In high school gym, once.” That was not a sport that she had ever seen anyone play in the Empire, but her high school in Wrightsville had done a unit on it during their PE class. Annerose hadn’t been terrible at it, but she also didn’t have any particular love for it.

“Perfect,” Jessica said. “Come on, write your name.”

“May I ask why you’re making this effort with me?” Annerose asked, her pen poised above the paper.

“Does your name hinge on my response?” Jessica asked.

“No, but I would like to know.”

“I’ve been hanging around here for years, and there’s one pattern I’ve seen over and over. Brilliant, talented young women like yourself come in here, don’t fall in with a social group fast enough, and then they drop like rocks. I hate seeing it happen, because it can really ruin your life. I don’t want it to happen to you.”

“I’m not sure where you get the impression that I am either brilliant, or talented. And it wouldn’t happen to me,” Annerose said, but she hesitated for only a fraction of a second longer, then wrote her name in neat cursive on the sign up form. Jessica smiled warmly.

They rejoined Dusty at the snack table in the back, where he was helping himself to a plate of cookies. “Oh, Jessica, Annerose, hold on, are you two going to be at the dance?”

“I’m on the committee, so yes,” Jessica said. “Annerose?”

“I assume you’ll try to force me?”

“No, I’m done pressuring you. Too much work.”

“Maybe,” Annerose told Dusty.

“Let me get your picture and a quote for my column.”

“What? Why?”

“Beautiful faces sell dance tickets.”

“The dance is free,” Jessica said.

“Beautiful faces trick people into donating money to your fundraiser, which I’m going to heavily imply is required for getting into the dance.”

“You scamp. Sure you can take my picture. And say that the fundraiser is a good cause, and we’re all very grateful to any donations that come our way.”

“Will do,” Dusty said. He pulled out his phone and gestured for Annerose and Jessica to get in the picture together.

“I really don’t think I’m going to make the best covergirl,” Annerose said, gesturing to her shaved hair.

“It’s fine,” Dusty said. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, Annerose smiled for the camera.

After the event was over, Dusty ran away, citing an urgent need to write his column quickly so that it could get into the next release of the paper, and so Jessica and Annerose walked out into the cool night air together.

“Thank you for coming,” Jessica said. “Did you have a good time?”

“If you won’t take offense, I’ll say that it was more enjoyable than I anticipated.”

“None taken at all. What made you come in the first place? Sudden change of heart?”

“I was temporarily displaced from my dorm room,” Annerose said.

Jessica laughed. “God, I’m so glad that doesn’t happen to me anymore. Truly the joys of being an independent adult. You just have to find someone to get revenge with. That’s the only way to make it even.”

“Who, like Dusty?”

Jessica snorted. “Dusty is a man who not only reads the poetry section in the Liberty Bell, but writes it as well. I don’t think he’s interested. He’s harmless, in that respect.”

“Ah. Is his poetry any good, at least?”

“You’ll have to form your own opinion on that. He’ll be happy to hear that anyone is picking up a copy of his beloved paper, even if it is to critique his artistic choices.”

“What about you?” Annerose asked.

“What about me, what?”

“Do you have someone?”

“Is this you asking me for something?” Jessica asked, smiling.

“No!” Annerose said, a little more forcefully than she had intended. “Sorry, I was just curious if you had a boyfriend, or something.”

“If I said ‘or something’, you’d take it the wrong way,” Jessica said with a smile. “He’s more than a boyfriend and less than a fiancee.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I’m hoping he’ll work up the spirit to propose to me someday.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jean Lapp,” Jessica said. “He’s a lieutenant in the sixth fleet.”

“Do you get to see him often?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” She pulled out her phone and showed Annerose a picture of a smiling blonde man, taken while he was in the middle of putting on his uniform jacket.

“He’s quite handsome,” Annerose said.

“Another woman complimenting my boyfriend’s looks-- should I be jealous?”

Annerose laughed. “No.” They made it to the parking lot, where Jessica leaned against one particular car.

“Well, will you come to our next meeting?” she asked.

“Sure,” Annerose said. “You’ve convinced me.”

“Excellent.”

June, 790 UC, Heinessen

Annerose was surprised to find that the more of the women’s society meetings she attended, the more she enjoyed the experience. She even liked the practices for the lacrosse intramural team she had signed up for. She was shorter than most of the other women on the team, and far less experienced, especially since many of them had been playing in the intramural league since they were freshmen, but they all took her under their wings. Hardly a practice could go by without one of them rubbing Annerose’s fuzzy head in encouragement, or helping her up from the ground after she got body checked, or complimenting her on… something. She tried to take all of this in stride, though when too much attention was paid to her, she always ended up blushing fiercely, which would cause some of the women to laugh at her and only make it worse. Still, she ended up liking them quite a lot, and liking playing the sport.

With all the exercise that was required of her, Annerose was finding her body changing like it hadn’t since she was a young teen. Her skin was still smooth, and her face was still the same as it had been, but her muscles became visible on her arms and legs, and, where once she would have described herself as moving her body gracefully, she now would call her actions precise.

She had always thought of her body as a tool, but it was becoming a different kind of tool than she was used to. She could still use it in the original way, she thought, especially when her hair grew back, but she had never before considered that she might take pleasure from running or from firing a gun. It would have been unthinkable to her past self, and it was, in some ways, unthinkable to her current self. Whenever she felt a sudden thrill of accomplishment or joy of movement, she tried to tamp it down. It was not that she considered such things unladylike, but that she found the experience of enjoying something for its own sake-- or, rather, for her own sake-- somewhat perverse. Annerose would never have said any of this aloud to anyone else, and she was hardly conscious of the feeling enough to put it into words, but it still drove her to feel altogether quite odd when she stood around with the other girls after practice in the locker room, sweaty and friendly and something resembling happy.

The first game of the year took place on a rather grey day. A light rain was intermittently falling, and the air was unpleasantly chill. When she woke that morning, she had hoped that the game would be postponed, but all day long, her phone was filled up with messages from her teammates, chatting excitedly about the upcoming game, so, by the time that Annerose got dressed in her uniform, she had begun to actually look forward to the match.

The game took place on one of the many nondescript fields that the academy kept for sports and training, and the ground was already sloshing with mud. Annerose’s cleats left big gouges in the dirt whenever she stepped, and she mentally resigned herself to becoming completely filthy, shutting any complaints she had away in a corner of her mind. There were benches along the sides of the field where a few spectators (all women from the society who had come to cheer their friends on) had gathered. The opposing team was all men, dressed in red and white jerseys. The women’s jerseys were black and yellow.

It took a while for the intramurals representative and the referee to arrive, so while waiting, the two teams sized each other up, some of the seniors on Annerose’s team exchanging increasingly heated banter with the opposition. One of the men on the other team, Annerose noticed, was familiar.

“Well, Ms. von Müsel, fancy meeting you here,” Schenkopp said, grinning at her and twirling his stick with one hand, holding his helmet underneath his arm.

“I didn’t know you played,” Annerose said.

“A lacrosse stick is as much like an axe as I’m liable to get around here,” he said. Annerose recalled that he mentioned something before about being in an active combat unit before coming to the academy. “But I could say the same to you. You didn’t strike me as the sporting type when we talked before.”

“And what did I strike you as?”

“I’m afraid I’ve quite forgotten,” Schenkopp said.

“Have you?”

“Yes. Fortunately, that leaves me able to be struck by your beauty anew. The pleasure is even greater the second time.” Annerose couldn’t come up with a reply to that fast enough.

“Is he bothering you?” Christine, one of Annerose’s teammates, asked loudly, coming over to lean on Annerose’s shoulder. Christine was a senior, and she sneered at Schenkopp as though she was familiar with him. “Walter. She’s a freshman.”

“And not a porcelain doll,” Schenkopp said. “In fact, Ms. von Müsel is a woman quite capable of deciding who she will speak with.” He smiled at her.

Annerose didn’t like the feeling that she was being fought over, and so she said, “Oh, the ref’s arrived. I guess we can get started.”

The conversation that Christine had interrupted between Annerose and Schenkopp was definitely the most civil of the ones occurring between the opposing teams, so it was for the best that the referee did in fact get the game going. Annerose joined her teammates and pulled her helmet and gloves on, hefting the now familiar stick with an unfamiliar nervousness sitting in her stomach. Her helmet was a little too large, and slid uncomfortably around on her head, but the metal cage across the front didn’t impede her vision, even if it did slip forward and require her to constantly stop and adjust it.

The game was not a particularly polished one, and the two sides were not evenly matched. The women’s team had to rely on being faster on their feet, because the average size difference between the players was large enough to cause body checking to be a real danger. Although Annerose had thought she would enjoy playing defense, the game ended up being defense heavy, with the men aggressively pushing the ball into her side of the field more often than not. The only thing that saved the game from being a complete disaster was the skill of their goalie, who blocked shots with ease.

At halftime, everyone huddled up into a muddy group, shivering in the sudden cold that comes from cessation of activity. “We’ve got this,” Christine said. “All we have to do is be more aggressive. You can do that, can’t you?” She shoved one of the attackmen with her shoulder, causing the whole group of women to sway sideways, as they had their arms around each other. “We’re not going to lose to them.”

There was rousing agreement from the team, and they broke apart. One of the women who had come to watch the game passed out hot coffee to them, which Annerose sipped gratefully as they waited for the game to resume. She shoved her mouthguard into her pocket so that she could hold the hot beverage in both hands. The ref had momentarily abandoned them to take a phone call, so the halftime stretched out for a while.

“Can I get some of that?” Schenkopp asked, coming up beside her and looking at the coffee that the women were drinking.

“You can have the rest of mine if you’re willing to risk my germs,” Annerose said.

“Ah, it’s only fair,” he said with a smile. She passed him the remaining half of her coffee, and he drank it down quickly. “Much obliged.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”

“Certainly not giving up your snacks to them.” He grinned. “They’ll get jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Me, talking to you. I think my teammates already are.”

“There’s really nothing to be jealous of.”

“There isn’t?”

“I’m certainly not giving you anything other than half a cup of coffee, Mr. von Schenkopp.”

He grinned. “I believe you will be giving me my first victory of the season, as well.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Annerose said. “We’re almost tied. Our goalie gets it most of the times you try to score on us.”

“And we stop you most of the time before you can even make an attempt. All we have to win by is one point!” He held up a finger.

“Well, Mr. von Schenkopp, I look forward to giving you your first taste of defeat.”

His smile was wide. “First teeth and claws, now you’re going to hit me with a stick. I like that in a lady.”

Annerose had had enough at that point, so she rolled her eyes and walked away, rejoining her teammates for the remainder of the game.

The second half of the game was more furious than the first, as the women had rallied their energy, while the men were flagging somewhat. Perhaps it was due to the coffee provided by the spectators, who cheered and gasped and waved at every move that the ball made up and down the field. Because the women were pushing the ball forward, that let Annerose in her defensive position relax a little. She watched Schenkopp, the midfielder with the long stick, dart about the whole field. Annerose wasn’t sure how she felt about him. He was handsome, certainly, and she thought that he would be interesting to speak to in better circumstances, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to attempt to bring those “better circumstances” about. What would she get out of it?

He was a talented player. He wasted no time in smacking the sticks of the opposing players, and took hits without flinching or dropping the ball. She could see in his movements what he had meant about the crosse being as close to an axe as he was going to get; she could mentally replace the harmless stick and ball with a gleaming blade quite easily, and she could see that he wielded it well. Even still, he never used excessive force or seemed to go out of his way to hurt the other players as some of his teammates did. They seemed to get joy from crashing into their opponent as hard as they could. The other women took that as a compliment, or at least a challenge: to be treated as equals.

If she tried to talk to him later, what would she get? Maybe he would be a good contact in the future, someone Reinhard could learn from. Someone who could get him a position in whatever unit he ended up in. Schenkopp would go far, she considered, and he would be a useful ally.

She did not want to admit to herself that she had other motives for watching Schenkopp as he dashed around.

This period of contemplation was perhaps the first time in her life that Annerose had been so severely distracted. So, when the ball came flying towards her, she almost didn’t react fast enough to catch it. She definitely did not react fast enough to get away from the six foot tall junior bearing down on her. She made eye contact with one of her teammates, then flung the ball right as she was knocked sideways. Her helmet, already loose, came up around her ears, and as she fell to the ground, her teeth crashed into the bottom lip of the helmet, and she felt a searing pain in her mouth. She didn’t cry out and she got right back up after the impact, so the game went on around her, the ball moving back into the other side of the field.

Annerose took stock of her situation. Her mouth was on fire with pain, and she could taste it filling with blood. She kept her lips completely shut, so as not to let the blood come out and disrupt the game. She would play on until the last quarter was over. She wasn’t going to let her team be down a man for her stupidity, for not putting her mouthguard back in after drinking coffee during the break. She kept her mouth closed. She breathed heavily through her nose. She swallowed the blood that filled her mouth, even though it was beginning to make her quite ill. She played the rest of the game, rain falling heavily by the end of it.

Their team lost, which wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing to the other women. Annerose was beyond the point of caring. Because of the disappointment of the loss and the inclemency of the weather, most of her teammates jogged off immediately, going to take shelter under the umbrellas of their spectator friends as they walked home, or running in pairs or small groups back to their dorms. One of her teammates collected all their equipment, sticks and helmets, to return them to the closet from whence they had been borrowed.

Annerose stood lost for a moment, feeling rather chill and faint, trying to triangulate the best path to the student medical center. She hadn’t ever had need to go there before, so she didn’t have the clearest sense of where it was. As she started to walk away, someone, Schenkopp, of course, came up behind her.

“Good game, Ms. von Müsel,” he said. “You made it closer than I thought you would.”

She couldn’t respond without opening her mouth, so she just nodded at him as he walked beside her.

“I was wondering,” Schenkopp said, “if you would like to go out to dinner with me?”

She gestured down at herself, covered head to toe in mud, and he laughed.

“Well, we’d both have to get changed first. Though you’re not walking in the right direction to get back to your room, so I do have to wonder where you’re headed.” Annerose didn’t respond, so he said, “I suppose you don’t have to talk to me, if you don’t want to.” And he sounded legitimately disappointed.

Annerose stopped and turned towards him, covering her mouth with her hand. “Mr. von Schenkopp, I am unfortunately required to head to the student health center at this moment.” Her voice was thick with coagulated blood, making it very hard to talk.

He stared down at her in confusion, and hesitantly reached up towards her hand, which she was clamping over her mouth. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, and began walking again. He followed after her.

“I won’t ask if you need an escort,” he said. “But would you mind one?”

“I’m afraid I won’t be very good company,” she said, then closed her mouth. She glanced at her hand, which was covered in blood, and wiped it on her jersey.

"But will you stop me from accompanying you?" Schenkopp asked. Annerose shook her head no, though she wasn't sure why, and Schenkopp followed her along the long walk to the student health center.

When they arrived at the rather empty student health center, the woman working the desk was somewhat aghast when Annerose opened her mouth to speak. Annerose caught her own reflection in the plastic divider between them and realized that she did look a sight, with blood smeared across her lips from where she had been hiding it with her hand, and her mouth a black pit full of it. And that was disregarding the fact that she was soaked to the bone and covered head to toe in mud.

“I knocked one of my front teeth loose while I was playing lacrosse,” she said. “Is there a dentist I can see?”

“Is the tooth out?” the receptionist asked.

“No, but it’s knocked backwards,” Annerose said.

“How long ago did this happen?”

“About forty five minutes ago.”

Schenkopp grimaced behind her. “Did you need to see a doctor as well?” the receptionist asked.

“No, I’m just accompanying her,” Schenkopp said.

“Alright, hold on a second.” The receptionist stood up and went through the double doors to the treatment area, leaving Schenkopp and Annerose alone.

“You definitely should have come here faster,” Schenkopp said. “I’d feel bad if you lost the tooth.”

“You had nothing to do with it,” Annerose said, no longer bothering to try to hide her problem. “I didn’t want to make our side be down a player.”

“It’s not like it would have made any difference to the outcome.”

Annerose turned away from him at that comment.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, but then the receptionist was coming back out.

“Right this way.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“As you like,” she said, and so he followed her in to the doctor, and very awkwardly sat on a chair in the corner of the room as Annerose was inspected.

The actual fix for the tooth was relatively quick; the dentist numbed her mouth, pushed the tooth delicately back into place, then attached splints across the front and back of her nearby teeth to hold it in place.

“The tooth can be saved, but you’ll need to come back and see me in two weeks,” the doctor said. “It needs more work, but this will hold you until then. I recommend you stay out of lacrosse until this heals. And wear your mouth guard, next time. It’s there for a reason.”

“I will, sir,” Annerose said, her tongue feeling quite floppy from the numbing agent.

“I don’t recommend you eat anything strenuous for a few days, either.”

“I understand.”

“You’ll probably want to take some aspirin. Your mouth is going to be pretty sore.”

Annerose nodded. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” he said. “You’re lucky that this wasn’t worse.”

“I know.” She swung her legs over the side of the chair, and Schenkopp offered her his arm to help her up. She hesitated for a second, then took it. He led her out. The rain had stopped outside, and the sun was almost down.

“Should I thank you for accompanying me?” Annerose asked. “I’m certain that you had better things to do with your evening. Celebrating with your team, perhaps.”

“You can thank me by taking me up on my previous offer,” Schenkopp said.

“Which was?”

“To go out to dinner with me.”

“I’m afraid that I was just banned from eating solid foods.”

“I know just the place for that.”

“Do you want to go back to your room and change clothes?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Schenkopp said. “Besides, I’m starving. Are you just trying to find polite ways to tell me no?”

“No,” Annerose said. “I’m happy to go out to dinner with you, Mr. von Schenkopp.”

“Excellent.” He proffered his arm, and she rested her hand on it, leading her down the street. They looked really strange, walking together off campus and into the city proper, still wearing their jerseys splattered with dried mud and, in Annerose’s case, a few smears of blood.

Schenkopp led her to a well lit, kitschy type of place, the polar opposite type of kitsch that one would find in the Empire. All the decorations were a gleaming chrome, with neon lights on the walls, and huge booths in red plastic, hearkening back to some past aesthetic that had definitely never existed. They slipped into one of the booths across from each other. Annerose inspected the menu, but Schenkopp seemed to already know what he wanted.

“There’s soup, if you want real food,” he said, “but I’m just getting fries and a milkshake. It’s good enough for a meal.”

Annerose nodded, and when the waitress came over, she ordered just a milkshake. Schenkopp got chocolate; Annerose, strawberry. The milkshakes came out in huge glass cups, adorned with whipped cream and cherries. It was possibly the most decadent thing Annerose had eaten in years, and she ate hers delicately with a spoon, trying to avoid jostling her tooth.

They spoke amicably about various things as they shared Schenkopp’s plate of fries. She learned that his family lived in Heinessenopolis, which wasn’t too far from Wrightsville. He told her about his time in a ground combat unit before coming to the academy, and he asked her about her family.

“I live with my mother and brother,” she said.

“Older brother or younger?”

“Younger. He’s thirteen.”

“Do you get along with him?”

“Oh, yes, very well. He’s planning to attend here in a few years.”

“Really? Your stories about this place won’t scare him off?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“Hell week certainly wasn’t easy, and now you’ve almost lost your tooth. And the schoolwork itself is not trivial either, of course.” He tacked that last part on as though it were secondary.

“I haven’t suffered unduly.”

Schenkopp laughed. “I see. You’re made of sterner stuff.”

“Reinhard, my brother, is far more capable than I am in almost every respect. Even if this place was ten times worse than what it is, I’m sure he would take it as a challenge, rather than a warning.”

“I find it hard to believe that he could be more capable than you are. You say almost every respect?”

“I’ve never seen him attempt to embroider, so I suppose that’s the one advantage I have over him, for now.”

“Every new thing I learn about you continues to amaze me,” Schenkopp said.

“I’m not entirely sure why.”

“You’re a woman of many contradictions.”

“I don’t feel that way. Besides, you hardly know me.”

“So, you’re saying that all these surface facets are tied together by a whole truth underneath that I have yet to grasp?”

“Isn’t that the way it is for everyone?”

“I’m a much simpler man than that,” Schenkopp said. “I’m sure you already know all that there is to know about me.”

“I doubt it.”

“Unless you want to know me in the biblical sense.”

“Let’s not be crass, Mr. von Schenkopp.”

He smiled. “Of course not, Ms. von Müsel.” He took a sip of his milkshake. “Can I see some of your embroidery?”

“You’re interested in such things?”

“I wasn’t before you mentioned it, but now I am curious.” She looked at him, and he did appear to be genuinely interested, leaning forward over the table slightly.

“I had to leave all of my old work behind when we left Odin,” she said. “But I finished this bedspread for my mother before I came to the academy.” She showed him a picture of it on her phone, the bedspread held up in the kitchen by Reinhard, who was hidden completely behind the blanket. The blanket itself was covered in embroidered images of twisting green branches and songbirds of various types, perched and labeled like a diagram from a birdwatching manual.

“How long did that take you to make?” Schenkopp asked.

Annerose thought about it.

“I didn’t really keep track. You know, working on it almost every day for about a year and a half. It was something to do.”

“And you said you made it for your mother? To sleep under?”

“Of course.”

“If I had made something that took a year and a half of effort, I feel like I wouldn’t let another person touch it. Luckily, I’m not really in the business of making art.”

“It is not enough for things to be beautiful, Mr. von Schenkopp,” Annerose said. “They must also serve a purpose.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s a truth that I hold to, at least. You may think whatever you like.”

“And is that why you’re here in military school?”

“I believe it’s the best way for me to be of help to my brother,” she said. “I want him to be successful.”

“But not for yourself to be successful?”

She took a sip of her milkshake and didn’t answer the question.

“You think so highly of your brother; he must be really special,” Schenkopp said, changing the topic slightly when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything else.

“He is. I might like him to meet you.”

“Inviting me to meet your family already? You are serious.”

Annerose smiled. “My ulterior motives are the only ones worth considering,” she said. “I am hoping to find positive role models for him.” Role models weren’t exactly what she was looking for-- allies was a more appropriate term, but she felt that Schenkopp would likely find it absurd for her to suggest that she was attempting to collect a cadre of talent around her thirteen year old brother.

“Role models? It’s hard to believe that I am what you’re looking for, then.”

“Why? You’re talented and hardworking, as far as I can tell.”

“And you have no objection to my loose morals with women?”

“You’ve been a gentleman with me,” she said.

“And with everyone else, besides,” he replied.

“I’m well aware, Mr. von Schenkopp.” Her voice was dry, and she ate a few fries from his plate. “If that bothered me as much as you think it does, I certainly would not be talking to you now. Besides,” she said, “if it really comes down to it, my brother could use some encouragement with women.”

“He’s shy?”

“He’s not particularly good at making friends. But I shouldn’t have said anything about it.”

“I see. Well, we’re not here to talk about your brother.”

“What are we here to talk about, then?”

“I don’t know. Why did you leave Odin?”

“Generally speaking, one’s reasons for fleeing their homeland in the dead of night do not make pleasant dinner conversation.”

“I apologize for asking.”

“I suppose it’s no matter. My father attempted to sell me to the kaiser, as a potential concubine.” She sipped her milkshake and didn’t quite meet his eyes, though she was aware of his stiffening posture and the raise of his eyebrows.

“Your own father did that?”

“I understand why,” Annerose said. “He had debts. I often wonder what my life would have been like, had we stayed.”

“I find it hard to believe it would have been pleasant.”

“For me, no. But there would have been some advantages. I’m sure that Reinhard would have benefitted, if I could have whispered in the kaiser’s ear to advance his status.”

“I’m glad that you escaped,” Schenkopp said, somewhat casually. “It doesn’t seem like a sacrifice that would have been worth it.”

“No?”

“You think it would have been?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, at this point. I suppose I’m grateful that the choice was taken out of my hands.”

“Was it ever in your hands to start with?”

“I believe you told me, Mr. von Schenkopp, that I could have left at any time. In a sense, the same would have been true in that situation, should I have found something that I could not endure.”

“That’s something about you that scares me, Ms. von Müsel,” Schenkopp said. “You seem to believe that you have an endless capacity for endurance.”

“Would it be better if I did not believe that? Is it such an unladylike belief to have?”

“I don’t know.” He contemplated her. “It suits you, though.” He finished his milkshake.

“I suppose I’m gratified that you think so.”

“Suppose?”

“It simply seems an odd thing to be gratified by.”

“But you have enjoyed coming here with me?”

“Oh, yes.” She smiled, then looked down into her nearly empty milkshake, not wanting to appear too foolish.

“You gave me more than just a victory and half a cup of coffee, then, Ms. von Müsel. I have also enjoyed a very pleasant evening.”

“You can call me Annerose, if you like,” she said, and looked slightly away, almost ashamed of admitting that she would like that kind of familiarity.

“Only if you will also call me Walter,” he said with a smile.

She opened her mouth to say something, but then the waitress came over with the bill and to collect their dishes, and the moment was lost. They didn’t say very much until they made it outside.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” Schenkopp asked.

“Just to the outside of the door, I’m afraid,” Annerose said.

“Of course. You may lead the way, and I’ll pretend that I don’t already know where you live.”

She laughed, and they walked off together through the cold city streets, back to Annerose’s dorm. They paused outside the door to the building, Schenkopp standing with his hands loosely in his pockets.

“Thank you for the dinner,” Annerose said.

“It was my pleasure.” He paused for a second. “At the risk of sounding slightly too forthright, may I kiss you goodnight?”

“At the risk of sounding like I don’t want you to,” Annerose said, “I must refuse. Ask me again after I have my checkup with the dentist, when the concept of crashing our teeth into each other comes with less of an injury risk.”

He laughed at that. “I think I will take you up on that offer, then, Annerose.”

“I look forward to it.”

“I saw in the student paper that the women’s society is putting on some kind of dance. Were you planning to attend?”

“Is this you asking me if we could go together?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then yes, I am planning to attend, and I would be glad to have your company.”

“Excellent. Then I shall bid you goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Walter,” she said. They both hesitated for a second, staring at each other. “Were you waiting to watch me get safely back into my dorm?” she asked, gesturing to the door not three steps away.

“Were you waiting for me to leave so that you can watch me walk away?” He had a cheeky smile on his face, and Annerose blushed.

“And so what if I was?” she asked, and took the few steps to the door, swiping her ID card and pulling it open. She leaned on the door for a second. “Aren’t you going?”

“See, if you had forgotten your ID card, it would have been good that I waited.”

“I’m not going to invite you in.”

“I know.”

“So go home.”

“Okay.” He didn’t move, and neither did she. “Perhaps I should go, because I know you’re capable of standing there all night.”

“Yes,” she said.

He laughed at her, then turned and waved behind himself. “Until next time, then.”

She did have the pleasure of watching him walk away into the darkness.