Page 40 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

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Unlike the previous duels, this bout is less casual. There’s a greater system of methodology in place and that’s due to Luke. He sticks rigidly to each rule, reminding Finlay of particular clauses in the official rulebook as Finlay makes his refereeing decisions. Luke’s gracious, giving away points when it appears he didn’t have priority. Rory is obliging, dealing with each of Luke’s nitpicks with grace, as though permitting Luke the accuracy of the match is a reasonable way for Rory to make up for comprehensively destroying Luke’s destiny.

I ruffle Captain Porthos’s fur beside me, his tongue lolling out with breathless excitement as he watches the fight with me from the benches.

The match is incredibly stop-start, and for something as momentous as a duel between the Prime Minister’s son and the boy who would have been king, I find myself drifting away and landing with a painful thud onto Finlay’s sharp, scornful words.

He accused me, essentially, of leading him on. And I can’t deny it: I have. My selfish heart wants all three of the boys in front of me, each of them currently playing stupid games out of serious politics.

It doesn’t mean Finlay’s entitled to me, especially after the vicious spiel he directed toward me, but perhaps I owe him an apology. Or, at the very least, an explanation.

Not that I can really explain myself.Yes, I do like you, but I also like Luke, and with Rory I feel fated to him in ways I can’t even describe.

God, I sound like an idiot.

It’d be wiser to know my own heart before attempting to speak it.

If only I hadn’t buried it for so long.

And anyway, I still recall the night of the ball. I remember him with Danny, kissing his face off. What was all that about? Would he ever tell me about it? No. Because he’s a lying, hypocritical jerk who clearly gets high on making me feel miserable.

I fold my arms across my chest, blowing out a heavy breath as Luke delays the match yet again, this time contesting the placement of Rory’s foil.

As Rory’s won every point so far, nothing of interest has been revealed in their truth-or-stab game. This seems to slowly be getting to Rory, who attacks with less aggression, his feet no longer storming across the piste but dancing almost balletically, with a slow, refined grace to his footwork, so that Luke can finally attack.

It’s odd, I think to myself. He’d never do that for Finlay. With Finlay, it’d be a fight to the death, each of them tearing strips from the other before either would concede the point. It’s clear he holds a deep respect for Luke.

Luke lunges forward, the point of his foil plunging into the middle of Rory’s fencing jacket. Finlay raises his arm in Luke’s direction and shouts, “Point!”

With deliberate slowness, Luke raises his mask. “I am interested in hearing your version of the truth. What is happening to my family and how are you involved?”

He says this so clipped, so politely, as though discussing the minutiae of English homework. There’s none of the heartbreak or fire from his previous match with Finlay. It’s like he’s being deliberately stoic, as though to appeal to Rory’s collected nature.

Rory lifts his mask, quiet as he considers his next words. “I want you to know,” he says carefully, “that none of this was my idea.” It’s in the tone of someone preparing to explain why a priceless vase lies shattered by his feet.

“Of course,” Luke replies, with a slight bow of his head. “Please do bring your excuses early. I would expect no less from Oscar Munro’s son.”

To his credit, Rory doesn’t flinch from the barb or shirk from the upcoming discussion. He nods, as though he’d been anticipating Luke’s rage for some time.

“You deserve the truth but you won’t enjoy what I’m about to say,” Rory adds as a disclaimer, before proceeding with a heavy sigh. “My father wanted to know the truth of the Milton line. You know my father — as much as you wanted me to help change his mind, he has never been accepting of the monarchy. Tolerant, yes, but reluctantly so. He has never been satisfied knowing there is another layer of oversight above him, especially when he finally became PM.

“As much as you think it was a knife-edge defeat for your family, my father believed strongly in the result of the referendum. And since coming to power, he’s been carefully crafting ways to bring about your downfall. He wants republicanism as his legacy to usher in a new dawn of politics.”

Luke is as motionless as he’d been on the piste with Finlay, drinking in every word.

“My father is not a deliberately provocative man,” Rory says, and it feels like everyone else in the room, including me, chokes back a disbelieving laugh. “He will not attack with impunity. He does not create political turmoil out of unfounded accusations. For him, the truth is the most important credit of political capital. So when he heard a whisper from an anti-royalist group that the House of Milton isn’t who they say they are, he decided to investigate for himself.”

“My God. Your father’s in league with Antiro?” Luke breathes. “Are you out of yourmind? Do you know how many people they’ve attacked for supporting my family?”

“And so Benji was sent into the castle,” Rory continues blithely, overriding Luke and speaking as though this is a rehearsed speech with no avenue for conversational deviation, “to research your family tree. Because that’s the strange thing about you. For someone so extraordinarily high-profile, there is no detailed information on the House of Milton. Children who look nothing like their deceased father. A mother obsessed with grooming the press to make the transition to power easier and even consensual to the public. Unfortunately for her, Lochkelvin library contains copies of all the books your mother tried to burn.”

“You weren’t torturing Benji,” Luke murmurs, his sword clanging to the floor with the slump of his shoulders. “You were torturing me.”

“No, I was quite happy to torture Benji on your behalf,” Rory declares, utterly serious, and I remind myself that yes, I am in love with a psychopath. “I was only told later in the year of the actual plan and Benji’s true role. But at the beginning, I tortured Benji for you and for Lochkelvin, make no mistake about it.”

Luke’s eyes narrow. “You say the sweetest things. But please, continue your tale about colluding with my enemies to destroy my family’s reputation.”

Rory’s shoulders sag. “Benji researched a document to release to the public—”

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