Someone had drawn my defeat before I reached the notice board.
The sketch showed a small figure falling out of a circle while a much larger woman pointed a sword at him. The artist had given me excellent hair and no useful knees.
I decided not to complain about the hair.
Below it, the public match notice still showed tomorrow's date as provisional. Medical clearance was in. Equipment inspection remained open. The terms I had signed with Liora were attached without the organizers' preferred punishment speech.
A student beside the board noticed me reading.
"It's only a joke."
"The knees seem poorly researched."
He moved away.
I stayed long enough to read the actual notice. The sketch had attracted more attention than the conditions beneath it, which was understandable. A falling noble was easier to discuss than a pending equipment check.
