A corner of his mouth quirks up. "I did write a letter this time."
"And I answered." I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"You never mentioned the arm." Elias offers no useless words of concern and I do not make a show of crying over my broken arm. But it takes a while for his eyes to wander away from the cast.
"I'm sure you would've heard through the grapevine. How did you manage to get leave from school?"
"I happen to be the sole son of the protector of the empire's northern territories," he brags humbly.
"Hmph. Favoritism..." Our little jabs at one another, how I've missed them.
