Yheta's birthday. For the past eight years, this has been incredibly awkward for all of us. You ever have one of those days that feels like an unskippable cutscene? Some days the worst thing about being stuck in a video game is all the advantages that players get, but not characters.

  At least we're not doing egg-races anymore. There's just no salvaging after that one fiasco. On the other hand, despite not being around for the first game of oddball, Yheta is one of this world's greatest supporters of baseball or oddball. He's actually been forming a league on his lands, coaching players and holding real games on real diamonds. Over the years he's refined the process, asking me about what is missing or what should be changed, and so we've got umpires, bleacher seating, baseball gloves, batting helmets, base signals, dugouts, and everything. The hot dogs aren't quite right, but a sausage in a soft bun with some mustard is good no matter what.

  He arranged a game to precede his birthday party, and I let myself get really into it. They were adults playing like a pee-wee team, trying to decipher the intent of this game filtered through language translation, alien cultures, awkward politics, and some nostalgia too.

  I hit them with a good "swing batta batta swing", and the guy actually swung way ahead of the ball! I got one! I was never sure it was possible! Nathan alternated between being confused and disgusted and amused all through the game. Finally the dinner was held, and we went into the ball room to begin festivities.

  And then the chase begins. Yheta kept moving to be near us. Filly would move to get away from him, Nathan would follow her, I would follow Nathan, and Yheta would follow the three of us.That really was what I thought at first.

  "Oh, Nathan! Look, they're setting up the chamber quartet! I think that's the new herringbone-cabled strings on the cello!"

  "I think you're right Filly, let's go take a look. They're supposed to have a unique sound, but they wear out pretty fast."

  "Oi, brother, you left your punch over next to the table. If you're going to send me to get you a drink, you should drink it."

  "Lady Harigold is right of course, Lord Harigold. If my sister ever did anything for me, I would be sure to appreciate it. But-"

  "Ugh. Fine. Sorry Yheta, for whatever you've decided is my fault. Hey Nathan, let's go, um, make sure your parents are settling in!"

  And so we would go.

  An hour in, my brother nudged me aside a little. "Natalie, I really am sorry to do this, but could you please split off so that all three of us don't have to deal with Yheta? I'll owe you one."

  "Wait, split up to lose him?"

  "No," Nathan said slowly. "Split up so he only follows you."

  "Why would he do that?"

  He stared at me in disbelief. "Because he's been doing it all day?"

  My mouth didn't seem to make any sounds. Odd.

  "And several years before today also?" Nathan prompted. "You have to know, right? This can't be brand new to you."

  Shit, I remembered now. The reasons we stopped doing egg races when Yheta's around. That whole display just to get my attention.That was ages ago! He couldn't still have the same crush!

  "That was ages ago! He can't still have a crush on me!"

  "Test my theory," Nathan said.

  We split up. Nathan and Filly went to the balcony for some air, I headed near to the quartet. Yheta followed me.

  Well, shit.

  "You like the music, Lady Harigold?"

  I turned in place, and folded my hands together in front of me. Respectful pose, appropriate for a guest to the host. Not the right time for a curtsy because we had one on the way in. "Yes, Lord Snairlin," I replied back, my smile felt brittle on my face. "Though stringed instruments are not as much my style, I mostly play woods myself. Clarinet and flute."

  "Oh, I did not realize you were a flautist!" he schmoozed.

  "Well, you know what they say, if you've got it, flaut it," I chuckled.

  He took a couple seconds to catch the joke, and then he laughed way too hard. I could see his back teeth. He pays for the good dentists. His laughter was desperate, and I felt bad about making a joke, as if this wretched braying were something I had inflicted on him, rather than the other way around.

  "And the food? I think you'll find that everything served at the feast is quite to your liking," he insisted.

  I glanced over at the punch bowl. Out-of-season apple cider in a huge cast-iron bowl sitting in a brazier of coals, heating up that whole side of the room. Aping what my father created in the autumn, without regard to the circumstances. People were avoiding the area, staying well clear of that half of the dining hall because it was too uncomfortable to be anywhere near the food.

  So instead I turned back to him. "Actually, do you mind if I try something? Your quartet has gone on break, yes?"

  He agreed, so I walked up and took one of the four seats, and settled myself in place. People glanced over and noticed. I crafted myself a flute. Silver, with cotton and silk for the valves. I knew a flute's structure well enough to just create it entire, springs and all.

  I started with Fur Elise, and ran through it. It's a difficult piece to play on piano, but much easier on the flute. Anything with a gliding transition of notes is easier on winds than on keys. I moved over to Pachelbel's canon, and then to the Ode to Joy. Hey, turns out that all the flute solos I know are just a couple minutes long, so I was wrapped up in about five. I stood, and there were some people applauding so I dipped a curtsy. Not a huge outpouring, but some clapping, polite. Yheta was in the front, beating his palms harder than anyone, and he yelled for an encore.

  Jesus dude I'm not here to give you a concert on your birthday, I was just trying to distract you from laughing too hard at every joke.

  Now, I don't have an extensive collection of music memorized. And I'm not skilled enough to just jazz-riff it along. I've been writing music, but I didn't bring my pages with me, and most of it was not solos! So, he was yelling for an encore (after five minutes of performance!) so I shrugged and kept going. Just whatever I had fooled around with in high school band class. My Heart Will Go On. Aqualung. And then I spotted my moment.

  I was up on a little stage, just a little raised, four chairs here. Empty music stands, the bastards took their sheet with them when they went on break. The violins and viola had packed their tools away, but the cello was just leaning. And, whatever it was strung with, I recognized the wood that this bow was made from. It caught my eye, because they're not normally made of oak. This was oak. It took a quick flick of my fingers to start curving. The bow rose up into the air, classic movie-magic wirework, and took the ready position. If nobody was going to come save me from impromptu solo-performer on-the-spot improv hell, I would accompany myself.

  I started with flute introduction, then brought in the bow. I could not bend the strings or press a chord, but I could at least run the bow for a two-note rhythm piece, and my heel tapping down on the raised, hollow stage was a decent enough drum. Fuck it, this birthday party gets Land Down Under. It was a little thin, with no guitar work, but a rhythm section and a flute could carry it.

  Nathan was the first to notice that this was a dance tune, and he and Filly whirled out onto the floor. It took a dozen seconds for Mother and Father to follow. Nothing rehearsed here, they just held onto each other and threw themselves along with the music. Others followed- privilege of rank means that people like to follow your example.

  There wasn't a huge outpouring, I'm not a one-woman musical revolution. Even with the past few years of training and experience, I'm not really cut as a concert soloist. I'm probably good enough to take first chair in most public high school band programs. Which means I'm stunningly good for the ten-year-old I appear to be, but not enough to get a hundred people on the dance floor at once. Still, it was something, and people were having fun.

  Yheta was conflicted, looking back and forth from me to the dancers. His smile was strained. Sweat on his temples. I had him in a bind: he couldn't ask me to dance if I'm the one putting on the music.

  When I finished, the quartet was standing there, more than ready to get back to their stations. Maybe I made them look bad by getting the crowd to react more? Nah, I think the other three got dragged back by the cellist. You wanna piss of a musician? Touch their stuff.

  I discorporated the flute and stepped down, with a nod and curtsy to the quartet. They gave stiff and hurried bows back, and then moved to their seats to get ready.

  Yheta grabbed my arm, tucking his around mine, and led me away, trapping my elbow. I hobbled along with him, as he started gushing with dramatic and effusive praise. I'm not especially humble, but I do know that I was not as good as he's making me out to be, y'know?

  Anyway, he's decided he's my date for the evening, and it's his party. The things I do for my brother. He's showing me off to relatives and guests and family business partners. I nearly choked when he straight-up asked his aunt "don't we make a cute couple?" I wanted to speak out there, like, dude, I'm ten, you're twelve, way too young to think about coupling up- but this guy's apparently been infatuated with me since I was a toddler. At this point we're closer to meeting again at Academy than we are to our first meeting.

  At his prompting, the aunt declared that we were a cute couple, and he was puffed with pride as he walked away. He sneered at Nathan when he made eye contact, and we navigated the forest of adults to the table his father and mother sat at. They looked just as warm and kindly as when I first met them, but they did not look as young and vibrant. In the last eight years, they've both aged twenty. The count sill wore his military medals, but this was the first time I've seen him with a cane at his side. I considered that there may be a war wound, I've hardly ever seen him standing or walking.

  "Father, Mother," Yheta said, and his from-the-waist bow pulled me down into a curtsy. You're supposed to let go of people before you do that! "Did you like the music from Natalie? I thought it was very interesting! Everyone says we make a cute couple!"

  One. One person said that, Yheta, at your prompting. Sheesh this guy..

  "I particularly liked the one with the tempo," the countess said. "Is that from one of your well-traveled tutors?"

  She preferred Men At Work to Debussy. That's just because I'm not good enough to make Debussy sound right. I smiled at her, a little shy. Time to lie with a straight face, and take credit for other people's work! "No, your Ladyship, those were original compositions."

  I probably should have used more of the local flavor. I've learned a dozen or more pieces written and known in Hearstwhile, I could have used those to stretch out my time on the stage. I wouldn't be here right now with this toad latched onto my arm.

  She leaned back in surprise, hand rising as if to cover her mouth before she stopped herself. "All of those? You composed them?"

  "It's a hobby I try to make time for," I admitted. "My parents and tutors are pretty strict about keeping my attention on scholastic academics. It's considered that's where my greatest potential lies. But when I get time, I compose."

  Her husband tapped his nose. "And all this in addition to being one of the most promising sorcerers of your generation, according to those whose job it is to know these things."

  He was smiling jovially, friendly. A nudge of the elbow, a wink between comrades. Meanwhile, I had a cold chill rip through me from my scalp to my heels. Of fucking course there are people whose job it is to keep track of the most powerful mages in the world and collect information about them. Of fucking course there's a network of tip-offs and pay-offs that is watching everything that involves a unique magical talent. Of fucking course there's an entire niche of professionals who have been quietly taking notes on me and digging for more.

  "Well, Lordship, I'd characterize my studies there as a series of successes that came so easily they feel devalued, and a handful of failures that sit like a stone in my shoe."

  He laughed and slapped the table, and an instant later Yheta laughed even louder, and shook me playfully by my arm. He had to prove that I amused him more than I did his father. My polite fake smile was having trouble. I did not want to make a scene, the more bitter he was about my family when he gets to Academy the harder he's going to make things for Nathan.

  On the other hand, he's wearing a silk cravat. I wouldn't need to lay a hand on him. It would look like an accident.

  Tempting as it was, no. I would not be altering the future by choking this putz out. No big changes until the start of Academy. Millions of lives depend on it.

  His parents shared the same strained politeness I was feeling. All three of us looking at each other, nervous, heh heh, what the fuck?... all going unspoken. The Countess thanked us for our time, and Yheta proudly swept me away. He kept one hand on my forearm to keep my elbow pinned to his. He had to know that this was not a polite gesture. On a one-to-ten scale with a one being "on a date" and ten being "kidnapping", we were kind of.. four-ish?

  "Let's get some fresh air!" he declared, and pulled me over out through a wide side door and out onto a patio. It was warm out, and most people were avoiding the outdoors until the sun set in another hour. Still, now that he had me out here he finally let go of my arm. If he tried that shit again, I'm going for the cravat. You don't get to drag a sorceress around like that in public, buddy!

  Now that he had me alone, his demeanor changed just a little. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and he glanced down at the ground. Deep breath in, then out. "Our two Houses have much to offer each other," he said carefully. It felt like he was repeating a speech he had rehearsed. "If Snairlin joined your father's coalition, the taxation issue could be postponed for years, giving ample time to muster allies and resources. If you were promised to me, my station would be raised to that of an earl, a great benefit to my family. And, of course, there would not need to be any more .. difficulties... between your house and mine. Bread and spices. With your brother courting my sister, he would stand to inherit the vassalage of Snairlin, and you would share the merchant empire with me. In ten years, enough cadet houses could be joined that my House would be folded into yours entirely. After that... anything could happen."

  Well, a lot to unpack there. At least he's acknowledged that his family has been openly working against mine, rigging prices and fixing markets. But his family does not have enough pull to sway the proclamation- I already know that they're minor players in that cabal. And he was trying to cleverly hint that they're much more. Also, trying to promise that his elder family members would fall in line behind him if he married up.

  If I didn't have knowledge of the game and its future, then the only way I'd know this was a bad idea would be that it's a twelve-year-old boy trying to make big promises to a ten-year-old girl about how rich and important he's going to be someday.

  "Yheta," I said, levelly but not coldly. "My brother is not courting your sister. They're friends. They enjoy each other's company. Maybe in some years they will see each other that way. But it is too early for him to ask her hand, and it is too early for you to ask mine. Your father would not even approach my father about a bid for another five years, Yheta. We can talk, and remain friends. I would welcome your correspondences between meetings. But if I were to say anything more, it would be the promise of a minor who is beholden to other people's contracts, not my own."

  He stared at me, hurt. "You were supposed to under-"

  I held up a hand. "I understand. But what I am saying is that I do not have the liberty to offer what you want me to promise. For the time being, my family directs me."

  He hardened his face. "So, I must appeal to your family for you then, not the other way around." He rocked back on his heels, still with his hands in his pockets. He looked to his right, out over his family's gardens. "Please do ask them to ... no. I, also, am not directing. I'm not the mouthpiece. Very well. Perhaps when there is conference between your father and my family, you could ask him to listen, to soften his resolve? Your heart has weight within his, your influence may help an agreement between them."

  "I prefer agreement to discord," I replied easily. "But my father holds his counsel first, his wife's second. And I would always counsel him towards an outcome that is best for all, that enriches and honors all parties. If you wish my influence to his decision, all you have to do is present just such an outcome."

  He nodded, now saddened. A lot going on in his noggin. "It will be so. A lot of people could be hurt, without agreement."