“Anoor?”
She was in her training gear and had clearly been running around their usual circuit. “I went right up to the Tongue and couldn’t find you,” she said like she was commenting on the weather.
“Were you running?”
“Where have you been?”
“I…I stayed with a friend.”
Anoor crossed her arms. “What friend?”
“Let’s not do this again, Anoor.” Sylah continued the walk back to their chambers, Anoor falling into step beside her. They walked in silence. The apology they both wanted to voice hung heavy in the air between them. It was stifling.
Anoor went straight into her bedroom to get changed. Sylah sighed and followed her in.
Sylah slumped on her bed, exhausted by her warring emotions. She raised a hand to her forehead to rub away the stress lines there.
“You got the letter about the trial of stealth?” Sylah asked to fill the silence.
“How did you know?” Anoor called from the dressing room.
Sylah looked around. “It’s on your desk.”
“Oh.” Anoor reappeared in a gown of sea blue. She sat stiffly next to Sylah on the edge of her bed, and the gown threatened to devour her too. “What are we going to do?” The question was said with the blandness of plain jollof rice.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“I need the jambiya, it’s the only thing I can passably fight with.” The words were flung like an accusation. Sylah lowered her eyes.
“I said I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“You’re supposed to get me through the Aktibar. Come up with a plan, then.”
“Anoor, the instructions have only just come in—”
“You’re not trying hard enough.”
Anoor was done hiding her anger at Sylah. Now it was blazing, lit by the green center of her hazel eyes. But there was hurt there too. We are not friends. The words popped like a bubble in Sylah’s memory, and she flinched.
Anoor got up and began to pace, putting space between her and Sylah. The sea foam ruffles of her dress bounced with each footstep, and it would have been funny if Sylah wasn’t so distracted by the angry pout of her lips.
“Calm down.” Sylah regretted the words as soon as she said them.
When has anyone ever calmed down after being told to?
Anoor’s anger was feral. Sylah cocked her head at her.
“You want to hit me, don’t you?”
Anoor didn’t respond, but Sylah saw the moment in her eyes when she focused and slipped into battle wrath. Sylah launched herself at her. They grappled on the floor, Anoor getting Sylah’s elbow under her back, but Sylah had her neck in a deadlock in seconds.
Sylah pushed Anoor away once she’d tapped the floor in defeat. She wiped her brow in surprise. Sylah was sweating.
Anoor didn’t move from her sprawled position. Sylah waited.
“I’m sorry I went through your clothes.”
“I’m sorry I said we weren’t…friends.”