Knight or Knave

You don't need money, don't take fame

Don't need no credit card to ride this train

~ Huey Lewis

Chapter 5

Revenge is private and personal, and so readily gets out of hand. ~ Ernest Lucas

The compromise reached between the Temple hierarchy - who were not happy about being asked to change their scheduled events at the capital's main hall of worship on the spur of the moment - and the king was to host the ennoblement at the castle's own temple hall.

Leon's mother Ruth went through the ceremonies with a stunned expression that made it rather obvious she was still not entirely convinced this wasn't a bizarre dream. But it really wasn't and a succession of oaths sworn upon the sword of the king carried out the 'spiritual transfiguration' that made a knight's daughter into a countess of the kingdom, and ruling lady over a rich city and the island that it sat upon.

Privately, Leon thought that the disbelief only wore off when the king stepped back and the queen took Ruth's arm, serving as her maid of honour as events segued into the next ceremony taking place: her marriage to Barcus Fou Bartford.

Leon had taken a great deal of pleasure in explaining the logic to his parents. Ruth was his father's concubine, not his legal wife, and she was now of noble status in her own right. There would be expectation that Barcus - now divorced from Zola by royal dispensation - would remarry and Ruth wasn't of suitable rank or they'd have been married right from the start and Zola Fou Bartford - or rather, Zola Fia Coleman as she now was - would never have been an issue. But once Ruth was a countess it would be imperative that she be married, and thus…

The whispering about a countess marrying a mere baron had already begun, not to mention the scandal that she'd already given said baron five children while his concubine… but Leon was confident that no one from the Bartford barony would give a damn. And the new countess' lands would get used to it - particularly since Leon had carefully seeded some rumours that the only reason the city hadn't been sacked was due to Ruth's influence over her new husband and the 'dreadful Roseblades'.

Which was utter rubbish, but everyone loves a fairytale ending.

"You're looking far too smug," Nicks complained as they followed the happy couple out of the temple and towards the banquet hall where the wedding feast was being laid on. Leon's brother tugged on the collar of his high-collared jacket. The two of them had been pressed into hastily prepared outfits to befit their new status, but exact fits had been quite secondary to ensuring the outward appearance was right. Leon had come off slightly better for that than his brother had.

"I'll try to rein it in," he promised insincerely.

"Why did you choose her of all people?"

Leon shot his brother a look and then dragged him aside, muttering "Washroom," to the attendants. They were ushered into the temporary refuge of the nearest toilets with a minimum of fuss.

"Look, don't get nervy now, brother. You know this is the one thing that sold dad on my plan."

"I appreciate your match-making expertise, but how much do you know about Dorothea Fou Roseblade?"

Leon started ticking off points on his fingers. "Two years older than you, no prior engagement, Count Roseblade's eldest daughter, very pretty -"

"She likes whips and collars!" Nicks hissed with an appalled expression.

"Do you know that for sure or are you listening to rumours?" his brother asked him patiently.

"Well…"

Leon nodded. "I thought as much. Look, you're still thinking of her as being unreachably important compared to a Baron's second son. I bet you've never even spoken to her."

The expression on Nicks' face told him that he'd hit home.

"Look, Nicks, you're a Countess' firstborn now. You're technically slightly more important than Lady Dorothea, because you're the heir. For her, becoming engaged to you is a step up. For once, you're not the one who has to try to convince someone to marry you when you don't really have anything to offer."

"Thanks!"

"By the standards Zola clung to." Leon paused in distaste. "And that our sisters believe in."

They both shuddered and then laughed awkwardly. Jenna and Finley were a year or so older and younger than Leon respectively, and both had been encouraged to act far more like Zola than their mother. It was an issue, and becoming a Countess' daughter wasn't going to help with that.

"The point I'm making," Leon continued, "Is that you and Dorothea don't know each other and that's a good thing, it means you don't have any past issues to work past. You aren't the supplicant here - I'd not suggest throwing your weight around, but you can afford to tell her 'no', if she's being too pushy. In fact, I'd encourage that. Show her that you can't be pushed too far. She likely admires her father, and he doesn't act as if he and the Countess are in the same position as Dad and Zola."

"Okay…" Nicks agreed cautiously. "That makes sense, but what about… you know…"

"Well you never know until you try it."

"LEON!"

"What?"

"Try and be a bit more open-minded, brother. If she wants to wear a collar, is that really a dealbreaker?"

Nicks stared at him. "I mean she'll want me to wear a collar!"

"Are you sure about that?" Leon enquired curiously. "I thought you didn't know her all that well."

"Word gets around the academy, guys in my position trade notes on the obvious problems we find out about!"

"Well, tell her that you won't wear a collar unless she does. That's only fair." Leon shrugged. "Who else do you plan to marry?"

Nicks made a face. "You know I don't have anyone."

"Then what in the world do you have to lose by trying to make this work out?"

His brother took a deep breath. "Alright, but if this goes south on me, I'm setting you up with her little sister."

Leon shook his head. "Whatever makes you feel better, Nicks. Now wash your face and go meet this terrifying horrible prospect of marrying a rich and powerful count's daughter."

He kind of hoped that Nicks went ahead with challenging Dorothea to wear a collar. From everything he recalled from the books, she'd probably be quite happy with the idea. The Roseblade daughters had been noted in the book as being a bit eccentric but respecting people willing to push back at them. And there had been strong hints that Nicks and Dorothea could have a pretty good relationship if they worked at it.

It wasn't as if Leon wanted Nicks to be unhappy, after all. It was just that securing an alliance with the Roseblades would get the new Bartford county off on a good footing and Nicks was at the age where he had to marry. It would also make Ruth happy and that meant Leon was hitting three birds with a single stone.

Somewhat tidied up, the pair of them left the washroom and were ushered towards the banquet hall. They were about to enter when one of the servants caught Leon's attention. "Lord Leon Fou Bartford? There is a message for you."

Leon paused. Who would send him a message now? Or here, for that matter? Director Smith perhaps? "You go ahead, Nicks. I'll catch up."

"You'd better. If mom starts fretting about you, it'll ruin her big day and you know that'll upset dad."

"Perish the very thought," Leon said piously.

"He doesn't like surprises, little brother, and you've been giving him nothing else since you went adventuring."

"There's justice to that," he conceded. "I'll be back in a bit."

As the servant led him to a sideroom, Leon subvocalized: "Luxion?"

"Yes master," the AI confirmed his awareness through the very discreet speaker in Leon's ear.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?"

"None." Luxion paused. "There is one man waiting in the room ahead. I have not encountered him at all, but his clothes are typical of those with status in your kingdom."

The servant opened one of the double doors into the room, let Leon pass him and closed it behind him. It felt uncomfortably like a dungeon door slamming shut. The man stood by the fireplace of the room was certainly no mere messenger - Leon didn't recognise him but he was dressed far too well to be a functionary, expensive fabrics and accessories marking him as being of the upper nobility without being garish.

"Sir," Leon greeted him politely.

"Lord Bartford." The man smiled warmly. "It is a pleasure to make myself known to the architect behind today's happy event."

"You give me too much credit sir, though I am pleased to have played a part in my parents' happiness."

The smile grew knowing. "Your modesty is becoming. But I forget my manners." He bowed slightly. "I am Count Bernard Fia Atlee."

Leon stiffened slightly and realised that the response had been noticed. But it was hard not to pay attention to that name. Fia was the prefix to a family name when the family's aristocratic status was based not on a domain but on a hereditary post within the kingdom's government. So far as he knew, none of the court lords was ranked higher than a count and those few who held the title were hereditary ministers, wielding power to rival a marquis or duke.

And Count Atlee was closely tied to the royal faction. His daughter was engaged to the son of Viscount Marmoria, who had been less than friendly previously. That suggested at least political sympathy between the two men.

"I'm honoured to meet with you." Leon returned the bow, considerably more deeply.

"Please don't stand on ceremony." Atlee moved to sit on one of the two well padded couches, gesturing for Leon to sit opposite him. "I don't plan to keep you long, but today I am indeed a messenger and on a topic of some small urgency."

There were very few people who could use a court Count as a messenger and Leon had no interest in making an enemy of those on that list - or at least, not yet. "I think it would be fair to say that you have my complete attention."

Atlee nodded. "You strike me as a bright young man, and certainly Director Smith has described you to me in those terms. I gather she's offered you consideration for employment when the time comes."

"She has, sir."

"And from your manoeuvres yesterday, I think I might be able to offer you a place in royal service if that is more to your taste. Count Olfrey was becoming a problem and when we were presented with a solution, it was easy to take it." The Count sighed. "You've noticed that the king can be led. I would not suggest that you rely on that again. He indulges himself on some matters that are of little consequence, but he would not have agreed to your request if it was truly of great bearing."

"Being lucky once and pushing it again and again in expectation of the same is the root of most gambling habits."

"Exactly." Count Atlee's smile was of the kind usually directed at a clever dog who had mastered a trick. One trick, but that was all. "My main purpose here is to discuss another matter. Director Smith is extremely gifted in some areas but not, I fear, in politics."

Leon thought for a moment. "The elf blood detector?"

"Precisely." The count tapped the table. "I must ask that you surrender the device and swear discretion on the subject. We don't know how many other households might be in the same situation as your own. We do know that finding out could be extremely damaging. Even if the answer is not many, the suspicion alone could cause a number of families to turn upon each other."

"I see." The young man reached inside his jacket and produced a pocket watch. When the count extended his hand, Leon raised his own and reached deeper before producing a similar shape. "This is a real watch," he explained, indicating the first. "It seemed valuable enough that I should have a decoy."

The count accepted the second device and activated it, not needing instruction on how it operated. "It seems I have no elf blood either," he announced mildly. "Good to know. And I'm glad to say that neither my wife nor my daughter have lovers under the polite fiction of being contracted servants. Long may that be the case."

Thinking of Count Atlee's daughter, whose part in the book was larger than her father's, Leon remained silent on that point.

"I hope that royal trust in your discretion will not be misplaced, young Lord Bartford?"

Leon dipped his head. "I shall interpret this meeting as a royal command not to discuss the matter save with consent or in privacy with Director Smith, if that is acceptable. I assume that similar silence is being asked of my family."

"Advice has been offered by those likely to be heeded, or will be shortly in a few cases." Atlee began to stand and Leon responded by quickly rising to his own feet. It would be impolite to remain seated when his social superior was standing. "I wished to take your measure myself."

"I trust that I measured up."

"I fear that you do." Atlee smiled, reducing the sting of his words. "I foresee a great deal of work in your future, young man. I believe that wherever you find yourself, you will find people eager to put your talents to work."

The banquet had been of royal standards, luxury that would likely spoil those attending for every comparable meal. Leon, somewhat perversely, picked at his food and found himself without an appetite. He'd gone out of his way previously to try to avoid too much attention.

While some of that was for tactical reasons such as preventing Count Olfrey from learning that his pirate allies had been eliminated, part of it had been for the more strategic goal of keeping his profile low. Notoriety was another word for making enemies and he expected to have enough problems as it was. It was unlikely he could avoid it entirely, given some of the nonsense he'd likely be facing once he got to the academy, but the last thing he wanted was some widespread reputation.

Unfortunately, it was evident that at least some people at the royal court had seen through him. That meant they'd consider his own actions in the future through that light and be less likely to dismiss his actions as simply impulsive. It seemed unlikely, for example, that Count Atlee would dismiss any conflicts with the crown prince as being anything but a calculated plan.

Damn.

"Are you alright, Leon?"

He looked up and saw his mother giving him a worried look. "Ah, just wondering how Nicks is doing," he excused himself. There was some separation between the Roseblades and the Bartfords at the tables, but Nicks was sitting with his new fiancee and Leon didn't have a good view of them.

Ruth smiled encouragingly. "I think she's rather taken by him. I'm so pleased for him!" Then she leant over. "I gather you gave him a pep talk earlier. Good for you."

"It was nothing much."

"Her sister seems interested in meeting you as well," his mother added. "Don't feel pressured, but if the two of you hit it off, I don't think Count Roseblade would object to a double alliance."

"It seems a little early to decide that, but we'll have a good chance to get to know each other at the academy." Deirdre Fou Roseblade was a year younger than her sister, so she'd just finished her second year there. "I shouldn't close off any options in either direction."

Ruth patted him reassuringly. "Just find someone that makes you happy, Leon."

Once the meal was over, the party shifted to an elaborate ballroom and Leon made a point of avoiding the Roseblades and his brother. Either his advice had paid off, in which case Dierdre Fou Roseblade might be aggressively interested in finding out how he compared to his brother, or it wouldn't have… in which case Nicks might very well be inclined to explore throwing his brother under that particular carriage.

At other times that might be interesting - Deirdre was no fool - but he had enough on his mind right now.

Moving around the fringes of the party, he stepped aside for two girls with matching silver-blonde hair and blue hair. Sisters, he guessed, from the matching dresses - although one had her long hair up in braids while the others' was loosely tied back.

"Excuse me, Lord Bartford." The latter of the two greeted him somewhat breathlessly. "May enquire if you have seen Lord Arclight?"

Leon had paused wondering if he was actually being sought out, and was amused to find that no, he was just a means to find someone more important. At least he was obscure to some people. "Count Arclight's heir?"

She nodded eagerly.

"Chris Fia Arclight?" he enquired further, as if for confirmation. "Sir Frowns-a-Lot?"

The girl paused and scowled at him. "He doesn't frown all the time."

"We've never met, so chances are good I wouldn't know even if I had seen him."

He half-expected an explosive reaction but instead she simply shook her head. "He has light blue hair and wears glasses. If you do see him, I'd be grateful if you could let him know I'm looking for him."

"I don't see why not," he began and watched her walk eagerly on in search of her goal. "Although since I don't know your name…"

The other silver-blonde smiled politely and dipped a curtsey to him. "My sister's name is Violette, Lord Bartford."

Remembering his manners, Leon bowed. "Leon Fou Bartford, at your service, lady…?"

"Scarlet Rafa Ades," she completed the introductions.

He nodded. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Rafa signified a royal family - not only the king's family but also one of the ducal households, since they had at one time or another been independent principalities that had joined the kingdom more or less voluntarily as more powerful states formed and independence became a chancier prospect for comparatively small realms.

Duke Ades was perhaps the ducal house that Leon was most aware of, since their domain was the closest to the Bartford's - in fact, the islands that they claimed were more or less directly between the Bartford barony and their new holdings as Counts. Until now, Leon would not have expected to encounter the Ades except by chance but now relations between the two houses were going to be a matter of some importance.

"And I you, Lord Bartford." She gave him a bright smile. "I understand that you played some part in bringing Count Olfrey to justice."

"A small part," he admitted dismissively. "My brother and I lacked the experience to be put in a position of real responsibility. Neither of us had been to war before, so it was probably sensible." He supposed that fighting the pirates had prepared him more than his father realised, but that wasn't a conversation he was eager for. He'd essentially murdered the last two shiploads: how did one broach that subject?

"Even so," she assured him, "I envy you the opportunity to smite such loathsome blots upon the nobility."

"You'd met them then?" Leon saw movement behind Scarlet, partly also obscured by one of the decorative columns that marked the side of the dancing area of the ballroom.

"I broke Cassandra Fou Olfrey… oh, I beg your pardon, I broke Cassandra Olfrey's nose when we were five."

"Bravo," he murmured. "Do you, by any chance, have younger siblings following you around?"

Scarlet gave him a puzzled look. "I only have one younger sibling and he's at home in our mansion."

"Ah, then it must be someone else's that are spying on us," Leon told her, nodding towards the column. "You can come out," he raised his voice slightly. "We don't bite… or at least, I don't and I'm sure Lady Scarlet's manners are far too refined to do so."

"I don't think I've ever bitten anyone… that I remember," she agreed.

The boy and girl who emerged sheepishly from behind the column were almost certainly the youngest people there - Leon guessed them to be around Kyle's age while he'd not seen anyone else much younger than himself. Most probably, the noble families attending were only bringing their children if they were old enough that they'd be exposed to the public at the academy in a year or so anyway. But that raised the question of who these two were. They were well dressed, but not quite in party clothes.

Scarlet leant over slightly to be closer to their height. "Hello, my name is Scarlet. What's yours?"

"I'm Layne," the boy declared and then looked at the girl, who shuffled behind him a little. "This is Erika."

"And I am Leon." He bowed slightly to them. The names didn't ring a bell, but without family names being used that wasn't surprising. "Can we help you?"

"Are you really Violette's twin?" Layne asked Scarlet, rather bluntly. "I've never seen you before."

"Yes, I am." She spread her skirts gracefully. "I haven't been to the capital very often, while Violette lived here with our mother. Do you know her well?"

Erika nodded her head and then seemed to remember that she was being shy.

"Yes, she used to be here all the time," Layne declared and then slumped slightly. "She was much more fun before she wore dresses all the time."

"What else did she wear?" enquired Leon curiously.

"Breeches and a coat, like I do." The boy flourished his clothes a little to demonstrate.

"Ah… that. I did not know that," Scarlet admitted slowly. "Would you like me to take you to her?"

Erika perked up. "Could you?"

"I think I might manage."

Leon gave Scarlet a questioning look, but she shook her head slightly and took the children's hands, walking after her sister flanked by the pair.

What the devil is going on there? Leon wondered. Duke Ades had never appeared in the books so this was new to him. He knew the Duke didn't spend much time in the capital, but he hadn't realised that his daughters - twins, perhaps? - were separated in such a fashion. Actually, he'd only really known that there were daughters and that the Duke's son and presumed heir was via a concubine.

I'll probably encounter them at the academy, he thought. If Violette is chasing after Arclight… oh, what are the odds she's his fiancee? I know he has one, but her name never came up!

"Have you been hiding from me?" a sharp voice demanded as Leon looked out at the capital from one of the castle's balconies.

He turned and saw a busty blonde girl with her hair curled into long drill-shapes. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Then he snapped his fingers, "Oh, right. Dorothea's little sister."

"My name is Deirdre Fou Roseblade."

"Oh yes," Leon said dismissively. "That was it." He paused and smirked. "What was your question again? I wasn't paying attention."

She glared at him. "You're more arrogant than your brother is."

"It's a character flaw," the boy admitted. "How are our respective siblings getting along."

The girl sniffed. "I wasn't expecting very much, but apparently he does have something of a spine."

Good for Nicks, thought Leon. The path of love is never smooth, especially in Holfort, but he's due some good luck.

"And yet you, his brother, are skulking around in the shadows. I'm disappointed in you," the blonde declared, putting her hands on her hips.

Leon laughed at her.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You say that as if your opinion should matter to me, Lady Roseblade. I don't recall you having done anything all that impressive, so why would I care if you're impressed or disappointed by me."

"Are you looking down on me?" exclaimed Deirdre. "Your parents may be a count and countess now, but the Roseblades have a long history of famous explorers and great nobles. You're in no way comparable."

Leon pushed himself off the balcony's rail and ambled towards her. "I didn't mention your ancestors, you did. What have you done that would impress me. Or impress your ancestors? Being a Roseblade gave you a headstart, but what have you built on that? Are you a registered adventurer, with trophies to brag of? Did you play a part in the war." He held his hand up. "And yes, before you say it, I know you're on the student council at the academy. So what? A dozen students are appointed to the council each and every year. It's not nothing, but nor is it all that exceptional."

Deirdre's eyes narrowed and then she smirked. "Interesting. I would counter then, that you were one knight among many during the war, and that while you may have found treasure during your brief time as an adventurer, that is what is expected of any successful adventurer. Shall we see if you can do more in the future?"

"If you want, by all means." He bowed to her, insouciantly. "Though don't expect me to go out of my way to impress you."

"Hah." She flounced her hair. "And my own accomplishments will hardly be done just for your admiration."

"My, I haven't heard such determined flirting since I was at the academy," a man's voice declared.

The two teenagers turned and saw that the glass doors leading onto the balcony were still open and they had an audience - albeit only a small one, in the form of a handsome silver-blonde man and a raven-haired beauty upon his arm.

"How about you, Suzanna," the man asked his companion. "Does it remind you of anyone?"

"Perhaps your brother's stories about Count Basilios' son's attempts to impress…" the woman answered contemplatively. "Except that this appears to be actually working…"

"I know, isn't it remarkable?" the man released his current companion. "Anyway, Lady Roseblade, I'm Duke Jeffrey Rafa Stuart and I assume you'd like to dance with me, come along."

Deirdre made a huffing sound but was not successful in disengaging her arm, not that she was trying very hard.

Leon eyed the brunette woman he was left with - she looked fairly young, as did Duke Stuart. Early twenties… and Duke Stuart would be the king's nephew, if he recalled the peerages correctly. "If you're looking for a dance partner you may find me disappointing." He could do it, but it wasn't something he'd practised.

She laughed. "My husband loves to dance, but I hate it. So he picks other partners and I only have to watch. It's a compromise that we're both happy with."

"Far be it from me to interrupt a successful arrangement then."

The duchess picked up her skirts and curtseyed. "Suzanna rafa Stuart. A pleasure to meet such a bold knight. It isn't every young man who crosses swords with a Roseblade lady, verbally that is."

"There's no fun in matching wits with the unarmed, but I'm not precisely in the mood for a duel of any kind today."

Suzanna laughed and moved to the opposite side of the balcony glancing out over the balcony. "A sober mood for the day of such a happy triumph for your family, lord Bartford."

Leon nodded. "I am of a contrary nature."

"Well, if solitude is your preference, I take no offense, but I would prefer this balcony for myself - if only so that my husband knows where to find me. If he searches at random, who knows who he'll offend."

"Quite alright." He moved back to the door leading back into the ballroom. "Please have a good evening, your grace."

"And the same to you, Lord Bartford. Perhaps we'll meet again when you're in better temper."

"Perhaps so." Please don't be looking for a toyboy on the side, duchess. I don't need that grief. Leon made a quiet exit, masking his departure under the sound of the band playing for the dancers on the floor. Then he glanced back towards the balcony. He didn't really think that Duchess Stuart was flirting with him, but she certainly seemed to have some interest in him. "There's something I'm missing."

"Perhaps it is not obvious to someone as limited as you, master, but that was clearly Director Smith in disguise," Luxion responded through the ear bud.

Leon stumbled and moved to lean on the wall. "Larna Smith, Suzanna rafa Stuart… or, Randall. Damn. If she was a Randall before she married, that is…"

"I have no interest in the particulars of the kingdom's nobility," the AI declared.

"If it was then it's not Smith disguised as the duchess, it's the other way around." He scanned the room for someone who he could check with. Unfortunately, the only one who looked available wasn't someone whose company he would usually seek out… but he really wanted to know.

"Jenna, a moment of your time, please."

His elder sister turned. "What now, Leon? Oh for… have you been drinking?"

The girls she was talking to started to giggle and whisper.

"Not yet, but the temptation is there," he admitted. "I'm blanking on part of the peerage."

"Idiot," Jenna Fou Bartford muttered. "Excuse me while I give my brother a piece of my mind." She hustled Leon aside. "I swear, if you make a scene today… Do you have any idea what an embarrassment you are?"

"I'm sure having brothers is terrible for you," he replied, trying to avoid offending her - at least until he had an answer. "You know the Duke of Stuart - was his wife a Randall before they married?"

"Yes, of course. How could you not know that - there was a huge fuss when they married because she's the Marquis' only daughter and it looked as if the Duke might inherit both domains. What did you do, Leon? Just because we're a count-ranked family doesn't mean you can go offending a duke or duchess."

"I didn't do that, Jenna."

"Then why are you asking?"

"I just had a chat with her and I wasn't sure I knew who I was dealing with."

His sister narrowed her eyes. "This seems a bit much."

Leon sighed. He could hardly tell her that not only was he working on the basis that the entire kingdom they lived in seemed to be based heavily on a book he'd read in a past life, but also that it seemed to be drawing from a second book with a similar concept. "Let's say that when a married woman of significantly higher status than me starts paying attention to me, I begin sweating. But if she's Marquis Randall's only daughter then she can't be measuring me up for a sister of hers."

"Ha, as if you'd be that desirable, Leon." Jenna flicked her hair scornfully. "She has a cousin a little younger than her, the heir after her uncle since she renounced her claim to defuse the succession question. But there's no chance that she'd be looking at you. The daughters of ducal and marquis houses are engaged well ahead of time, and Frey Fia Randall can do far better."

"So you're going to give up on scoring yourself a duke or marquis," Leon asked. "Good to know you're being realistic."

"That's entirely different," Jenna said sniffily. "Count's daughters are precious opportunities, so I will have the pick of the young men at the academy now. Speaking of which, go dance with Deirdre Fou Roseblade or something, she seems to be at least a little interested in you and there's no hope of you doing better."

Leon grimaced. "I'm not interested in dancing, and not everything is about rank, Jenna."

"Of course not," his sister corrected him impatiently. "There's money too. Well, pass her up if you want but don't come crying to me once you're in your senior year at the academy and no one is interested in you as a marriage partner."