While Damien and Henry were training in the art of combat, Sylph was having a considerably more difficult time determining what eligible bachelor was the best match for the princess that she’d once been meant to kill.

She groaned, running her hands through her hair as she studied the notes she’d drafted over the past few days. Sylph wasn’t even sure why she was trying so hard to help Yui. Her own training had suffered as a result, but something wouldn’t let her stop.

Perhaps it was the genuine sincerity in Yui’s voice when she’d asked for Sylph's help. Maybe it was the traces of regret Sylph still felt from what her job had once been. She wasn’t sure, and so she found herself pouring over a list of men she had no interest in in the middle of the night.

She’d managed to narrow the options down to three people, but none of them were really that interesting in her eyes. The first was Gabe, a large boy from the Starcaller House. They were a little smaller than the Grays in terms of political power, but their mages were considered top notch.

From the few hours she’d spent studying Gabe from afar, the boy seemed kind enough – for a noble. He stood a head taller than Yui and was equal parts fat and muscle, with a round face and a thick head of hair.

Unfortunately, he was also obsessed with his retainers. Sylph was far from an expert in romance, but she was fairly sure Gabe was in a relationship with all three of the students that followed him around. Either that or he was the touchiest man she’d ever seen.

Sylph doubted Yui was interested in a polygamous relationship, so that made Gabe slightly less than an ideal choice. Her eyes drifted to her next target.

A thin boy by name of Riker, of House Whitecastle. He had sharp eyes and a short, pointed nose. He wasn’t particularly attractive, and his noble house was fairly weak compared to many of the other students attending Kingsfront.

He was, however, an incredibly talented duelist. His footwork and swordsmanship matched and possibly exceeded Mark’s. Of course, it would have been too easy if that was the end of it. Riker was also obsessed with his swords, and Sylph had observed him whispering lovingly to them multiple times.

She sighed and shook her head, pushing that paper aside as well and glancing at the last target. A blonde, square jawed student by the name of Carson. He was muscular and fairly popular, with some sort of fire magic that he used to enhance his strikes.

Of the candidates, Carson was the most eligible. She hadn’t observed him doing anything completely obscene, and he was friendly with almost everyone he knew. There was only one large problem Sylph could find with him – she couldn’t find any information about his noble house. There wasn’t a single scrap of information in the library records, and none of her teachers seemed to know either.

Sylph pushed her chair back and stood up. She’d spent far too much time on this already. It was time to figure things out by taking a page out of Henry’s book. She slipped out of her dorm room through the window.

Her back rippled as eight greyish green spiderlike appendages emerged from it. She scuttled down the side of the tall building, jumping when she was close enough to the ground and landing with a soft thump.

The extra limbs retracted back into her back and she set off through the night, making for a square building across the large garden she was currently striding through – the boy’s dorms. She’d already tailed Carson on a previous night, so she knew where he lived, but she hadn’t been quite this desperate at the time.

Sylph reached the beautifully carved marble wall and the spider legs shot back out of her back. She effortlessly scaled the wall, counting windows off until she reached the appropriate one. The room was dark. Repressing another sigh, she rapped on the window.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then a lantern clicked on, bathing the room in faint light. Shadows danced across the wall as someone shifted around in it. Sylph nearly groaned in disappointment. If she’d actually been an assassin, he would have already been dead with the amount of noise he was making.

She rapped on the window again. A few seconds passed before Carson’s wide eyes poked over the edge. They widened as he came face to face to her and he stumbled back, repressing a curse. He was wearing a nightgown and his hair stuck out in every direction. Sylph cocked an eyebrow and nodded at the window.

Carson gaped at her, then slowly reached out and unlatched it.

“Who are you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sylph replied, effortlessly sliding through the gap. Her extra limbs sank back into her skin, vanishing and leaving nothing but several holes in the back of her shirt.

Carson’s room was surprisingly plain compared to most of the nobles she’d known. There was a single portrait of Carson and what Sylph assumed to be his family on a wooden dresser across from his bed. His desk piled high with papers, and an old quill and pen sat askew beside them.

“Excuse me?” Carson hedged. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Sorry,” Sylph said, shaking her head. “We needed to talk. Do you have a girlfriend?”

Carson’s eyes widened and he choked. “What?”

“That came out wrong,” Sylph said, massaging her forehead. “I’m not interested in you.”

“Then why did you climb through my window in the middle of the night and ask me if I’ve got a girlfriend?” Carson asked, baffled.

“I’m doing it for someone else.”

Carson blinked. “…someone else?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

“No, I don’t,” Carson said, squinting at Sylph. He glanced at the window. “Is this some sort of joke? And can you tell me who you are? I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m a transfer student,” Sylph said, tapping her foot impatiently. “My name is Sylph, but that really isn’t important. What noble house are you from?”

Carson’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. “Why does that matter? What’s your actual goal? Are you trying to rob me or something?”

“What? No. If I was trying to rob you, I wouldn’t have woken you up first.”

“I – yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have,” Carson admitted. “So why are you here?”

“I just told you.”

“There’s no way you think I’m actually going to believe that,” Carson said. “Do you even realize how ridiculous this sounds?”

Sylph scrunched her nose. “Not really. It’s just a question. It wouldn’t be that weird if it wasn’t the middle of the night, would it?”

“Yes it would! Nobody asks someone out for someone else. What are we, twelve?”

“I don’t see what our age has to do with this,” Sylph said. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Nor do I plan to,” Carson said. “Why should I tell some stranger what noble house I’m part of? Especially one that sneaks through my window in the middle of the night?”

“Because I have a knife?” Sylph offered, a dark blade flashing into her hand. She laughed at Carson’s stricken expression and tossed the blade away, letting it fade into shadows before it hit the ground. “I’m just kidding. If I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead. I don’t have much to work with here, you know. I’m just trying to get this over with.”

“I do not think I’ve ever been more confused in my entire life,” Carson said, taking a step back. “Why exactly do you need to know this about me?”

“I’m trying to find a suitable suitor for someone, and they can’t do it themselves,” Sylph replied. “I’ve gone through dozens of nobles in this school, and most of them are either insane or pompous assholes.”

“I suppose I should take that as a compliment,” Carson said slowly. “And that somehow led you to me?”

“Unfortunately,” Sylph said. “Trust me, I want to be here even less than you want me here.”

“I very much doubt that,” Carson said, glancing down at his nightclothes. “Suppose I believe your reason and pretend like it isn’t the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. You need to know my noble house because this person is of a rank that can’t marry too far downward?”

“That’s correct,” Sylph said. “And she can’t look herself because of her peers.”

“Well, who is it?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that. I think this is meant to be a secret.”

“So you can’t tell me who you’re evaluating me for?” Carson asked. “What if I don’t like them?”

Sylph stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“You didn’t even – what? How? Shouldn’t that be the first thing that comes to your mind when it comes to trying to matchmake for someone?” Carson asked, his mouth falling slightly open.

“I’m not very good at this,” Sylph said with a sigh. “Seven Planes, this was a mistake. I don’t know why she asked me of all people to do this.”

“Not the romantic type, huh?” Carson asked, starting to relax slightly.

“Not particularly,” Sylph replied, rubbing her chin as she tried to figure out what steps to take next. “I kind of stumbled into my current relationship, but it worked pretty well. I was thinking the same thing would work again for my… friend.”

“There was a bit of hesitation at the end there,” Carson said suspiciously. “Wait, you’re in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sneaking into other guy’s bedrooms in the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t see how that would be a problem?”

“No,” Sylph replied with a frown. “Why would it? He’d understand when I gave him context.”

Carson stared at her. “You’re being serious, aren’t you? About all of this.”

“Of course I am,” Sylph said, baffled. “Why would I lie? That seems like a horrendous waste of time.”

Carson sat down on his bed, still staring at her in shock. “So there’s some eligible bachelorette that, what, hired you to find them a boyfriend?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sylph said.

“And you’ve chosen me? Based on what?”

“I wouldn’t say I’ve already chosen you,” Sylph replied. “Especially since you pointed out that you have to like each other. I didn’t remember that part. There were some other nobles I was looking at as well. I just don’t think they’d be very good matches.”

“And I am?”

“Well, you don’t seem like a psychopath,” Sylph said. “That puts you a league ahead of the vast majority of your competition.”

Carson snorted. He stood back up and walked into his closet, closing the door. Clothes ruffled around for a minute before he walked back out, now wearing proper attire.

“This is the strangest visit I’ve ever gotten,” Carson said. “I don’t think I’m going to be going back to sleep with much success.”

“Sorry,” Sylph said. “I was getting impatient waiting. I’ve got things I need to take care of.”

“Well, I’m sorry to trouble you,” Carson said. “You couldn’t find my noble house because I’m not a noble.”

“What? Seriously? Several teachers confirmed you were.”

Carson snorted. “Only in the barest sense. I’m a distant descendant of House Weinford. They’re a minor group of nobles at the edge of the kingdom near the frontlines. My status as a noble is tenacious at best. It’s only through sheer luck and a sizable donation that I was able to attend Kingsfront.”

Sylph pursed her lips. “I see.”

“So, if your friend is anyone of any real ranking, I don’t think they’d be particularly interested,” Carson finished. “And, with all due respect, I’ve got no interest in committing myself to someone I’ve never met. Especially if their method is sending strange women through my window in the middle of the night.”

“Actually, this wasn’t her idea,” Sylph said, glancing back out the window and chewing her lower lip. “Well, the finding-a-boyfriend part was. The window thing was all me.”

“I see,” Carson said dryly. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Sylph tapped her foot against the ground. If Carson’s noble lineage was really this tenacious, it probably wasn’t exactly what Yui was looking for. He seemed like a nice enough boy, but was she really trying to get Yui in massive trouble with her mother?

A tiny grin tugged at the corners of Sylph’s lips. In the end, wasn’t it more important to like your spouse than for them to be of noble lineage? She couldn’t have cared less about Damien’s background, even if he was Stormsword’s son.

“Actually, this might still work,” Sylph said. “You’re still a noble, even if the tie isn’t that strong. We can work with this.”

“Wait, what?” Carson asked.

“It can’t hurt to just meet her, could it?” Sylph asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You want me to go meet some strange noble girl that you won’t tell me anything about?” Carson asked. “You have to understand how much this sounds like a poorly planned out kidnapping attempt.”

Sylph sighed. She grabbed his desk and lifted the entire thing a foot into the air before setting it back down carefully and turning back to him. “Trust me. If I was trying to kidnap you, I wouldn’t have wasted this much time.”

Carson swallowed. “Was that a spell? I didn’t sense any Ether moving around you.”

“No. That was just my normal strength. Do you want to meet her or not? I won’t force you, although it would make things a lot easier on me. There’s always a chance she won’t care about the fact that you aren’t a high noble and you could make a connection that lasts a lifetime.”

“That sounds rehearsed.”

“Sorry. I read it in a book. It did sound good though, didn’t it?”

“Not particularly,” Carson replied. He swallowed. “Is there something… wrong with this girl? Why does she need you to find someone for her?”

“She looks perfectly fine, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Sylph replied. “And she’s no more awful than any other noble. Make a decision already. Can I take you to meet her or not? If not, I’m going to have to go hunt down one of those other nobles and try them. Maybe the one obsessed with his swords.”

“What, Riker?” Carson shuddered. “Not him. I’ve seen him kissing the hilt of his sword before. He’s not right in the head.”

“Then you know what options I’ve got to deal with,” Sylph said, crossing her arms. “Yes or no?”

Carson opened his mouth. Then he closed it and stared at Sylph for a few moments.

“I might be insane, but fine. I’m curious now. When are we meeting her? I suppose I’ll have to get ready and–”

“Now,” Sylph replied. “I was serious when I said I had better things to do. Hold on.”