He didn't like the taste of it in his mouth. It was irony, and hot. It dripped down the back of his throat when he tilted his head back. Was that the protocol when your nose was bleeding? To tilt it back? But when he started tasting blood he made a face. That couldn't be right.

Eventually Mallara returned with a damp rag and offered it to Pipit. "Hold it over your nose, and tilt your head forward. You'll make yourself sick if you tilt it back."

Seeing how disgusting the blood tasted in the back of his throat, Pipit was inclined to believe his mother.

Mallara stepped back and admired her son. He was freshly graduated, had just taken up a second job for some reason he had yet to reveal to his mother, and now he was sitting on the kitchen stool with blood pouring out of his nose. "What happened to you, Chickadee?"

Pipit glanced at his mother half tempted to lie. But why bother? He'd never lied to her before, and starting now was useless. "We were sparring, and she tried to kick me in my chest."

To kick someone in their chest would be to knock the wind out of them. They would collapse to the floor in defeat.

His mother's eyes narrowed at the mention of Karane. Especially that she was the one who had kicked Pipit's nose in. "And her aim is that poor?"

Pipit let out a pathetic laugh. "No! For some unfathomable reason, my first reaction was to duck!" He had introduced his nose to her heel personally. He kept his head tilted forward. He had to admit, it did keep the blood from draining into his throat. That was at least taking away from the nausea.

"That girl is a menace." Mallara grumbled to her son.

Pipit considered it. She wasn't a menace. She was strong—really strong—and smart. She was fast. Faster than him. Incredibly flexible. He was excited to learn the full extent of that flexibility.

"And absolutely unlady like." His mother added, tending to some of the scratches he'd received in the battle. He didn't need them to be treated, but his mother was fussing and he wasn't willing to argue.

Karane wore pants. She had to, as a knight. Otherwise how would she function? Her thin arms were toned with muscle, and she couldn't be bothered to style her hair in delicate curls. It didn't mean that she was unlady like all the time. Sometimes she did dress like a lady. Pipit could remember the first time she'd worn that blue dress. It still made him inwardly swoon. And her long hair, blowing in the wind… She was beautiful.

"The shape of her body is unsuitable for carrying children. It's hardly even that of a woman!"

Pipit shook his head at the thought. His mother was wrong. Karane's body was absolutely that of a woman. She had hips, and breasts. She had soft skin and a smile that stopped his heart. And who really cared if his mother thought she had that 'hour glass' shape required to make perfect children. Was it really necessary? Any child of Pipit's was already predetermined to have a big nose and freckles, so… Karane wouldn't be making them any worse, that was certain.

"Not to mention she's so cold and… emotionless." His mother shivered, wrapping up a cut on Pipit's arm. He glanced at his mother and rolled his eyes.

Karane was anything but emotionless. She didn't wear her heart on her sleeve, but that didn't mean she didn't have one. She still needed just as much love as any other girl. She still had days where, in the privacy of her dorm, she would collapse into Pipit's arms and cry. She still had days where she needed to be told she was beautiful.

Pipits mother sighed and took a hold of the rag pressed to his face. "Look at all this blood." She clicked her tongue. "I just don't think this girl is worth dating anymore, Chickadee."

Pipit reached up and touched the dried blood on his nose. "You know mom… you're right. I don't think she should be my girlfriend anymore."

Mallara blinked and stepped back. "Really? Did I hear you correctly?"

Pipit stood up from the stool and nodded to his mother. He walked to the water basin and began to wash the blood out of the rag. "You heard me. No more girlfriend."

His mother was stunned. Confused, but stunned. But the next sentence he spoke sent an involuntary shudder down her spine.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me."