The walk back to the academy went through the east promenade, and the east promenade was where everyone could see you.
Soren knew that going in.
The tournament had put him on a stage in front of a few thousand people and the people had not stopped looking since.
He kept his pace even, his eyes forward, the burned hand in his pocket where the scar didn't show.
Behind him the others spread out without being told to.
Selah at his left shoulder, close enough that the air around her ran cool.
Maren a half step back, watching faces instead of the road.
Dani somewhere off to the side pretending to read a noticeboard.
A girl crossed the promenade toward him.
Class A.
He'd seen her in the stands during the second bracket, the kind of student whose jacket fit right and whose rank sat high enough that she'd never had to think about it.
She came up smiling.
"You were unbelievable out there," she said.
"Thanks."
