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Felix slunk into the library, head hunched between his shoulders. He peered around, relieved to find it mostly empty. As he’d hoped, the majority of students were down eating in the dining hall, and those that remained were the kind too buried in their studies to notice anyone else. On silent feet, he padded toward the section on reason magic.
It was stupid. He was a sword fighter. But for some reason, the professor had gotten it in her head that he needed to learn magic, and no amount of complaining had been enough to change her mind.
Scowling at the memory, Felix dodged down another aisle. He just needed to grab a few books on the basics, and then he could return to his room and grumble in peace.
“That doesn’t make any sense…!”
Felix paused. He recognized that voice. And unlike most other voices that he could recognize, this one didn’t make him want to run in the opposite direction. Curious, he looked out from the end of the aisle to a table nearby. As expected, Annette sat before a veritable sea of books and scrolls. Less expected, she was glaring at the parchment in front of her, quill raised in a threatening manner.
He should probably leave her to whatever she was doing. Felix knew that. But his feet brought him closer, until he was standing behind Annette’s chair. He leaned forward, eyebrow arching with surprise.
“It says ‘The hunter wishes for the winter to be mild,’” Felix said quietly.
“WAH!!”
Annette shrieked. She flailed. She would have fallen from her chair if he hadn’t steadied her – though the outraged glare she sent him had Felix removing his hands quickly.
“Felix!” Annette hissed. She glanced around rapidly, but no one appeared to scold them. Assured that they weren’t about to be kicked out of the library, she folded her arms and fixed him with her fiercest look. It was adorable. “What were you thinking?! Who creeps up on someone like that! Villain!!”
Felix shrugged. “It sounded like you were having trouble. I knew the answer.”
Annette paused, her embarrassed anger shifting into confusion. “Wait. How did you read that?” She looked back at the parchment, then at him, her eyebrow raising sceptically. “Don’t tell me you speak Ancient Faerghan?”
From anyone else, he might have taken offense at that tone of voice. From Annette, it felt like a perfectly reasonable question. “It’s still spoken in some of the remote villages in northern Fradarius,” Felix explained. “The old man thought we should learn it. One of my nannies used to speak it all the time.”
“Seriously?” Annette groaned, flopping down onto the table with a despondent expression. “First Sylvain turns out to be a secret genius in reason magic. Now you’re fluent in Ancient Faerghan. What’s next? Is His Highness going to reveal a hidden talent for dance and get picked for the White Heron Cup instead of me?”
Felix remained silent, deciding now would not be a good time to mention overhearing the professor tease the boar about just that. It was probably just a joke. Hopefully.
“Ugh. Whatever.” Annette straightened up. She pumped her fists cutely, a determined gleam in her eyes. “I can’t let this opportunity pass by – it’s not often that you find a native speaker of an ancient language. So maybe you could…um…explain something to me?” At Felix’s nod, she picked up the parchment and showed it to him, tapping a finger beside two sentences at the top. “I understand what these mean. What I don’t get is why souhaiter – to wish – activates the subjonctif, but espérer – to hope – doesn’t! They mean pretty much the same thing!”
Felix stared at the page. The…subjonctif?
“I don’t know,” he said eventually. It was the truth. “Just sounds right.”
His answer did not please Annette. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean you don’t know? Aren’t you fluent?”
“It means I don’t know.” Felix shrugged. “We never actually studied grammar rules or whatever. I just tell what sounds right.”
Annette let out another long groan, muttering something under her breath that he couldn’t quite make out. Felix felt an uncharacteristic impulse to apologize.
“I just feel so hopeless,” Annette said before he had a chance. “No matter how hard I study, I’m never going to be as good as a native speaker. Every time I think I understand, there’s some new rule that doesn’t make any sense! Penser only activates the subjonctif when it’s negative? Why? I’m equally uncertain whether I think or don’t think something! And don’t even get me started on deciding which past tense to use!”
Felix shuffled in place, feeling weirdly guilty. He wanted to help Annette, but it was clear his knowledge wasn’t right for her approach to learning. He thought about her in class, focused as she took pages of notes, tongue peeking out between her lips, humming along to a song no one else heard…
“Maybe…” Felix hesitated, knowing that his next words could be dangerous. But Annette looked so lost and depressed that he had to at least try. “Maybe you could…write a song to remember the rules?”
Just as he’d expected, Annette shot him a suspicious look. Felix braced himself for accusations of villainy, but her irritation was quick to fade into thoughtfulness.
“Hm. Souhaiter and subjonctif both start with s…” Annette murmured. She tapped her fingers against the table, humming without even seeming to realize it. Felix burned the tune into his memory. “All right. Maybe you’re onto something.” Annette blushed. Felix burned that into his memory too. “So, uh…thank you.”
Felix grunted. “It’s nothing,” he said, feeling heat creep up the back of his own neck. “If you ever have questions I can…tell you if it sounds right. Or whatever.”
“Oh. T-thanks.” Annette stared up at him, her big blue eyes sparkly and hopeful. “Actually…I do have a request. You can say no of course! But, well…I’ve never actually heard someone speak Ancient Faerghan out loud before…”
A weird sense of nervousness tingled through his veins. Felix cleared his throat. He’d never felt self-conscious speaking the language before, but he’d also never had Annette watching him so intently. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want me to say?”
“Oh! Anything is good!”
Felix’s mind went blank, every word of Ancient Faerghan beyond his reach. He began to feel panicked and desperate the longer the silence dragged on. All he had to do was say something. Anything.
“Er…Felix? Is everything – ”
“Je souhaite que tu puisses toujours sourire.”
I wish that you can always smile.
Felix’s face burned. Why had that been the first thing that came to mind? Annette was going to hate him for sure, thinking that he was an overbearing flirt like Sylvain. He might as well just die now.
“Woah, it sounds so pretty!” Annette said. She was bouncing in her seat, hands clapped together in delight. “You’ll help me learn the proper pronunciation, right Felix? Please?”
Not trusting himself to speak, Felix answered with a curt nod. Mercifully, Annette didn’t seem to notice anything odd in his behaviour.
“Great! We could get started now – oh! Unless you’re busy?”
He had a reason assignment to do. Plus his nightly training. He hadn’t even eaten supper yet.
Felix sat in the chair next to Annette, trying not to think about how close they were. “I’ve got nothing else to do,” he lied, not quite daring to meet her eyes. “Where did you want to start?”
Annette beamed.
Maybe he hadn't mispoken after all.