"The best pranks look like accidents. The best accidents look like fate. The best schemes look like bad luck happening to stupid people."
***
I turned, letting surprise and hurt cross my features, to see Vance Thorne approaching with his usual entourage of two sycophantic followers trailing behind him like particularly loyal dogs.
His golden hair caught the morning light like he'd stepped out of a portrait commissioned by a family that wanted to present its heirs in the most flattering possible manner. His expensive training gear was polished to the kind of gleaming perfection that spoke of servants who knew their jobs depended on maintaining it.
"Perhaps you should abandon the sword entirely and try needlework instead, Leone." His voice was pitched to carry across the yard. Maximum audience. Maximum humiliation. "I hear embroidery requires far less... physical coordination."
