Chapter 166

“It’s so strange seeing a Talveron as good at casting as she is,” Camille commented. “Like seeing a fish climb a tree.”

Natalie glanced sideways, seeing that Camille had wandered up to chat with her. The mage had made a habit of it. Her stomach tightened with nervousness, like always, seeing the tall, skinny woman, and the teasing curl to her lips. Even so many days later, Camille still hadn’t come outright and said she’d been the one to catch Natalie in the restroom. It remained a murky, anxiety-inducing mystery.

Strangely, the two of them had become sort-of friends. She was Natalie’s classmate, and affable besides, so it wasn’t all that odd. Natalie admitted she would like to know for certain whether it had been Camille, though, however obvious her teasing made it seem. But she also didn’t want to ask outright, on the chance she had witnessed less than Natalie thought—or maybe even that she was just a flirt, and that Natalie was making incorrect assumptions. There wasn’t a zero percent chance of that.

So, she suffered through the interactions. Getting flirted at by a pretty girl was hardly the end of the world, anyway, even if there was an undercurrent of worry whenever she interacted with the girl.

“Talveron?” Natalie asked. “Who’s that? Ana’s opponent?”

Natalie was recovering from her recent spar. They were well into practice; she had worked up a sweat, and her HP was dwindling, like most of her classmates. Ana’s class was one of the groups of students present in the sprawling courtyard, today—which meant tough competition. Not as fierce as Elida’s class, which seemed to be the top grouping of students for the year, but still not a walk in the park, like some days were. Ana’s class was easily a match for Natalie’s.

Camille gave her a confused look. “Sorry? Her opponent?”

“What?”

“Ana. Ana Talveron. You don’t know who she is?”

The phrasing made Natalie groan. “You’re not about to tell me she’s some kind of princess, are you?”

Camille blinked several times, her confusion trading for amusement. “No. The Talverons are of middling importance. I just thought you’d know who your teammates are. She is your delving partner, isn’t she? I’m not mixing them up?”

Natalie sighed in relief. Having Elizabeth the Beaumon on her team was enough political entanglement for one lifetime. She didn’t even know who the Talverons even were, which to Natalie, was great news.

“I don’t keep up with that nonsense,” Natalie said. “And she never mentioned her last name.”

“Family houses and politics aren’t ‘nonsense’.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been told that like, ten times.” And at least once by Camille, Natalie was pretty sure.

Camille rolled her eyes. “The country bumpkin disregard is endearing, Nat, but dangerous in a place like Tenet. But, whatever. Yes. Ana Talveron.”

“Why is it weird that she’s good at casting?”

The mage pursed her lips. “It’s not funny if I have to explain it. The Talverons are just ... not mages.”

“What does that mean?”

She gave Natalie an exasperated look. “They’re almost all fighters. That their daughter is a mage, much less a good one, is very strange.” She glanced at Ana. “Though it’s hardly the only strange thing about her.”

Natalie pushed away the urge to defend Ana. Camille hadn’t made it sound like an insult, just a comment. Ana herself was more than willing to admit, and had done so, that she behaved oddly. It didn’t sound like something she was insecure about. Though maybe that was just a front?

“But, really,” Camille said. “How has she never mentioned what house she’s from? Don’t you talk? You’re teammates.”

Natalie had, of course, chatted with Ana plenty of times. There was lots of downtime in the dungeon, if not when they needed to catch their breath, then when setting up camp for the night on weekend trips. There’d been plenty of opportunities for the team to talk amongst themselves.

“She’s not the most open person,” Natalie said. “Dunno if you’ve met her.”

It wasn’t that Ana didn’t talk—just that she didn’t reveal much about herself when she did. Which was kind of odd, now that Natalie thought about it. She knew surprisingly little about the woman, even accounting for only having met her a few weeks ago.

“Fair,” Camille said. “Anyway, yeah, she’s basically the opposite of a Talveron. Talverons are all ... I don’t know, loud, gung-ho, in-your-face. They have a reputation for being dramatic.”

“Really?” In that case, Natalie could easily see why that would be funny. Ana had come from a family known for being in-your-face and dramatic? Natalie couldn’t pick two words that less described the woman. How had that happened?

Her thoughts flickered to the series of challenge rooms. Well. Maybe the description was situationally accurate, actually.

“And very much not mages,” Camille continued. She eyed Ana as a massive black shadow-tendril ripped from the ground and slashed at her opponent. A retaliatory orb of blue light zipped toward her, but it met a black curtain of shadow, dispelling both spells. Ana’s face didn’t move. Not concentrated, worried, or even bored. Complete passivity. Honestly, it was a bit intimidating. “And she’s not even kinda good, either,” Camille said with a begrudging sort of appreciation. “She’s really good. It’s a shame she turned down Gylver sponsorship.”