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“Mercedes!”
Sylvain pushed the door open with such force that it reverberated through the wall and nearly knocked over her best vase. Mercedes steadied it quickly, frowning at her classmate before settling on what he was carrying. Or rather, who he was carrying.
“If you don’t put me down,” Ingrid said as she struggled against Sylvain’s iron grip. “I swear to Seiros herself that I will tell every girl you ever dated exactly where they can find you and personally train them to kick your ass.”
“Your leg is broken, Ing.” Felix leaned against the doorframe with his usual, unimpressed gaze. True, he agreed that Ingrid needed to be brought to the infirmary, but did it have to be done so dramatically?
“Oh, my,” Mercedes said, gesturing toward an empty bed. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Ingrid grumbled.
“She took a fall while taking care of a particularly awful wyvern,” Sylvain corrected. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m fine,” Ingrid insisted. “Plus, if you two ever noticed anything you’d see she’s getting ready for someone.”
The two boys glanced down at the tea set placed perfectly in the middle of the room. “I’m sure whatever plans Mercedes has, she won’t mind being a little late,” Sylvain argued.
“Actually-”
“Plus,” Felix interrupted. “If you stop putting up a fight she’ll be done in a second and we can take you back to your room and not talk to you for the rest of the week.” He glanced down at the water pitcher beside an empty bed and poured himself a glass.
“Just like you wanted,” Sylvain agreed.
Ingrid opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off by the sound of a nearby door swinging back against the wall.
“How do you like the new me?”
The room turned to see Annette walking out from the baths connected to the infirmary. Intricate, beads and metalwork jingled as she twirled through the doorway, accompanying her entrance with ethereal chimes. The sides of the skirt (if you could call it that) met by her hips in a far-too-long slit that was only separated by a thin piece of floor-length fabric. The dress was belted, with layers of silver that dripped down her arms and neck in an extremely illogical fascinating system.
The Dancers uniform: possibly the most revealing outfit that had ever been created. And it just had to be Annette’s.
Felix choked on his water, sending him into an embarrassingly loud coughing fit. He turned to the corner of the room, hoping that facing away would trick the rest of his classmates into thinking he hadn’t choked on the sight of Annette in the Dancer’s uniform.
All the confidence that Annette had exuded during her entrance vanished when she saw her audience. Her eyes widened at the extra faces she clearly hadn’t been expecting.
“Looking good, Annette!” Sylvain grinned, breaking the heavy tension in the least charming way possible.
“Mercie!” Annette shrieked, covering herself. “You didn’t tell me you were having people over!”
“I didn’t realize they were coming,” Mercedes lulled. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye that indicated that, while she was sincere, she wasn’t necessarily unhappy about the outcome.
Ingrid, ever the one to smooth things over, gave her a sympathetic look after whacking Sylvain with the back of her hand. “You look beautiful, Annette,” she said earnestly. “And we don’t need to be here. I’m fine .”
“Felix is right,” Mercedes chided. “Your leg is broken, and if you let me fix it you will be able to get back to training faster than if you let your pride drag you out of here.”
Ingrid huffed but said nothing, allowing Mercedes to spend a few minutes casting her most basic healing magic to calm the swelling.
Felix recovered just in time to see Annette cross her arms protectively over her chest and look down toward the floor. In a moment of extremely poor decision-making, he dared one quick look at the skirt again. There was no way that could be practical in battle. I mean, sure, maybe it was less restricting than the mage uniform she usually wore, but this was just so...revealing.
If the idea was to distract the enemies, it would probably work. The problem was, Felix was pretty sure it would be too distracting for him too.
“Alright, you two,” Mercedes chuckled, pulling Felix from his own gaze. “Out. Give Annette some privacy. We’ll be sure Ingrid gets back alright, won’t we Annie?”
The redhead just nodded meekly in the corner, her eyes still cast down at her bare feet.
Felix didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Sylvain’s arm and yanked him out the door, thankful for the cool evening air against his burning cheeks.
“So,” Sylvain said in a tone that made Felix want to throttle him. “Annette in that uniform, huh?”
“Shut up, Sylvain,” he grumbled.
“It was a lot of leg,” he went on.
“I said shut up .”