This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

6.57 – Training Facility IV

"I was wondering when you would grace us with your presence."

Evander was a fair-skinned boy with black hair. He was average height for a man, which meant he stood half a foot taller than Rosalie. Despite that, it seemed like Rosalie was looking down on him as she leveled a cold expression toward the newcomer.

Zinnia, presumably the woman to his right, also had a head of black hair. There was a similarity in their faces that told Zoey with total certainty they were siblings. The resemblance was striking.

"Mm. I found myself in no hurry to return," Rosalie said calmly, icy blue eyes surveying her two visitors. "I was busy progressing. You two understand, I'm sure. To some extent," she added with a doubtful look.

Zoey's eyebrows went up even as Evander and Zinnia's expressions soured further. What was going on here? They obviously weren't friends, not even the conditional ones Rosalie had mentioned.

"And these are the mysterious teammates?" Evander asked. His attention settled on each of them in turn, but only briefly. There was nothing but disdain on his face. "Interesting … choices."

"The fuck does that mean?" Delta asked.

Where Honor had been hostile, she hadn't come off as—well, an enemy of Rosalie's. Zoey was pretty sure Honor had just been venting frustration. Not all that dissimilar from how Delta might have acted in her situation, honestly.

These two? It didn't take a genius to recognize the dynamic between Evander and Rosalie.

"Merely that I'm surprised by Lady d'Celestin's selection of teammates," Evander said calmly. "I mean, pray tell, what are your credentials? No one has heard of you."

"Credentials?" Delta threw a thumb over her shoulder. "Wanna step in with me? I can shove my foot up your ass. How would that be, for credentials?"

Evander blinked. He clearly wasn't used to retorts like that. His and Rosalie's exchanges had been blatantly unfriendly, but there was a veneer of politeness and plausible deniability in how their words could be interpreted. She got the impression that such words were as overtly rude as high nobility would get with each other. Barring extreme circumstances, a conversation would never devolve slinging outright insults. That would be beneath them. Or too risky, especially in a conversation with someone who had the surname d'Celestin.

Rosalie sighed. She gave a briefly pleading look to Zoey. Control that woman, please, it said.

Zoey settled a hand on Delta's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Could you, now?" Evander asked, finding his bearings. "I find myself doubtful."

"Stop antagonizing my teammates, Evander," Rosalie said.

"Antagonizing? I was merely inquiring about her. After all, to suddenly insert herself into the prodigious Rosalie d'Celestin's team? She must be very impressive."

Rosalie spoke before Delta had a chance to. Thankfully, Delta was also holding her tongue, prompted by Zoey's hand on her shoulder, though she didn't seem happy about it.

"I'm more than capable of selecting competent teammates. "Or are you casting aspersions on my judgment? Perhaps questioning what caliber wayfarer I find acceptable?" Before he could snarkily reply to that, either, Rosalie continued. "You know, Evander, I would adore a match with you. Like old times. Hm. But perhaps Zinnia should join you as well? I'm afraid you might not offer as much a challenge as you once did."

By the expressions on both Evander and Zinnia's faces, like they'd swallowed lemons, Rosalie had done the equivalent of slapping them in their faces.

"Both of us?" Zinnia asked. "Against just you?"

"We have three months advantage on you, Rosalie," Evander said. "And you think you can beat both of us? Isn't that arrogant?"

It seemed even the veneer of politeness was slipping.

"It would be, if I lost," Rosalie said mildly. "But it's a simple offer for a duel, no need to become so upset." She inclined her head. "I understand if you decline. You have a reputation to maintain."

His face went red. "I accept," he all but spat. "As does Zinnia."

The girl seemed more apprehensive, but just as angry. That meant she at least had some sense in her. Surely they recognized if Rosalie was so confident, that something was up? That she thought she would win. Maybe they thought that an impossibility, considering it would be a two-on-one and that they were at least third or fourth advancement.

With no further barbed words, the three departed for the arena—the one Zoey and company had just been using.

Zoey found it amusing yet another fight had started. She supposed in this kind of strength-focused society, most disputes would be solved with duels.

"What was that about?" Delta asked, frowning as the combatants set up on their respective sides. "More people bitchy they didn't get to be on blondie's team?"

Honor eyed Delta, but saw that Delta's question hadn't been snidely directed at her. Delta didn't even notice the look.

"Oh," Cordelia said. "In this instance, no, actually. The Talbot siblings were never interested in joining Rosalie's party." She paused. "Or, knew from the outset they would never be offered one. Their family's rivalry goes back more than a single generation. From before Rosalie's time."

"They're enemies?"

"Lord d'Celestin doesn't have enemies within his own ranks," Cordelia said, eyebrows raising. "But," she said. "He has allies who are more or less friendly than others."

"You're turning words around," Delta said with a snort. "They're enemies. Say it plain."

Cordelia's lips pursed. "Unfriendly," she insisted. "They align under the same banner and pledge loyalty to the same guild—to Lord d'Celestin. They are not enemies, except in the most trivial of senses."

They weren't actively trying to kill each other, Zoey translated. Disliked each other, maybe even hated each other's guts—going back generations—but there was no coup in sight, nor assassination attempts. She supposed that was a fair enough distinction. Their real enemies were the Striders, the opposing highguild. And possibly the Sovereign? Or at least, those were a potential enemy. Rosalie hadn't been too concerned when she found out Maddy was a daughter of one. Zoey still didn't understand the dynamics between those three major polities, not to any in-depth degree.

Seeing how her girlfriend would eventually be the leader of one such guild, Zoey really ought to sit down and have a more thorough talk about it.

Delta grunted. "Still, kinda surprised he doesn't just squash them, if they're 'unfriendly'," she quoted the word with her fingers. "Isn't that something Enzo d'Celestin would do?"

"A Guildmaster can hardly go killing every officer who offers him the smallest slight. Even ones who are outright rude. Lord d'Celestin represents a significant portion of the Deepshunters' power, but holding and controlling territory requires the efforts of more than a single man. Never mind that even he can be overwhelmed by a strong enough coalition. He's not wholly immune to the Guild's machinations."

She seemed amused at Delta's question. Zoey intuited it had been an uninformed thing to ask. Oddly, Zoey took some solace in the fact she wasn't the only one out of her depth. Delta didn't know the first thing about noble politicking either. Maddy was in a better position, but she'd also made it clear the Sovereign worked in a completely different manner than the other two highguilds.

Ahead, Rosalie's fight began.

A part of her had been expecting Rosalie to wipe the floor with her two opponents. That didn't happen. Without a doubt, both Zinnia and Evander were fourth advancement, the same rank as Rosalie. Unlike when she'd gone against Honor, she had no enormous power advantage.

Well. She still had the power advantage. Zoey's skills had empowered Rosalie by a significant amount, and she shared a portion of stats with each of her teammates. But it wasn't a ridiculous gap like against Honor. She was on a more even playing field.

And Evander and Zinnia weren't unskilled opponents. Zoey reminded herself that there were no unskilled fighters in this facility. Only elites. Frankly, Zoey might be one of the worst in the building. If not the worst. She'd gotten better in the past month, but a month of vigorous training didn't compare to a lifetime.

That said, even among elites, there were enormous gaps in skill—and Rosalie demonstrated that handily.

Zoey took no small amount of pride and second-hand vindication as her girlfriend battered, two-on-one, the rude pair of nobles around the arena. Half the training facility had come to watch. Dozens of armored or well-dressed wayfarers stood around the platform, watching the d'Celestin heiress dominate two opponents she had no business dominating, not a single month after entering the Fractures. Looks of pure disbelief covered the faces of the crowd.

This, Zoey knew, had been Enzo's intent sending Rosalie to the public arenas. Not to catch up with old friends. To prove a point. Establish herself. Establish the d'Celestin name.

The intensity on Rosalie's face made Zoey certain of that. As she weaved between attacks, thrusting with her spear and dashing around the arena, she wore a look of pure concentration and resolve. She wouldn't let herself lose this fight, no matter what.

And she didn't.

Rosalie came out of the encounter limping and with her armor dented, but when the smoke settled, she was the last one standing.

"As I said," Rosalie announced, looking down at Evander. "Always a pleasure to get some practice in. Thank you for the spar."

She hopped out of the arena.

"We can leave now," Rosalie murmured to Zoey. "I've done what my father wanted. You and Delta need to practice your new skills in privacy."

Nobody stopped them as they left. Rosalie raised an apologetic hand at Cordelia, Honor, and Quinn for their abrupt departure. Zoey knew they'd be seeing more of those three.

Out in the hallway, Rosalie released a sigh of relief, and her shoulders lost a little of their rigidity.

"Glad that's over with," she muttered.