If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't grow, we aren't really living.
- Gail Sheehy 

Alexandra pushed aside the recollections and the bitter details. She got up and pulled the window pane open. Sticking her head out and turning right, because if she did that, the clock came into view.

It was two in the morning - she yawned widely. Getting up before the sun did had felt torturous. Now, after so many years, it felt like a routine - all emotions attached to it had promptly dissolved. She went back, picked Moira up, and proceeded downstairs.

A very normal start to her day.

***

'I've heard there are no exams in the fourth year,' Paul said, shaking his head. Everybody was in the mess, the fourth years with one table to themselves. There was a lot of noise in there - with so many people rumbling out at the same time.

'We know it since the second year, you blockhead.' Venly disparaged. Alexandra was silently waiting for the food to arrive, after a whole month, they could finally give up eating the "Bland Grass".

'How?' Paul asked, looking at him, frowning. 'How do you know that?'

'The fourth years compete in the tournament with the second years,' she enlightened, all the same hoping that they had something fine for the day's breakfast. 

'Who brought you to the Council, Paul?' Hans asked.

'I brought myself,' he winked. 'Though that means - we have to do that wrestling thing all over again?!' He then added, sounding positively apprehensive at his own realization. 

'Yes,' Watson stretched out, tossing a pamphlet he had been reading on the table. 'This year Second Years are - how many? Sixteen.' He then answered himself, as Alexandra picked up the pamphlet and gave it a look. It was splattered with images of a man wrestling a bull - an invite to the tournament held annually in Cartania. Vedessans stoutly ignored that tournament, not out of love for bulls, but out of hatred for Cartania. Those were unsaid things in Idgard, it had had a long history of bloody clashes and even the kids now knew whom to support and whom not to. 'So two of us will have to go thrice at the combat and the rest can go twice.' Watson continued, as she crumpled the paper up and tossed it across the mess. Unfortunately, it hit Blaise Quill - and a terrified Alexandra had to dive under the table to hide her face. 'I'll tell you when the coast is clear,' Watson told her, bending down and winking. Then he straightened up. 'Who will go thrice?'

'Why thrice? Let's send Mabel four times,' Suggested Owen - everybody laughed, even some surrounding first years feebly joined in. Alexandra knew she had been a first year someday, but they now seemed so tiny and insignificant. And someday, even they would be Spies. She wondered what it would be like to have juniors working under her. But it was bound to be fun. 'But where is she?' He then asked.

'In hiding. She erroneously threw a certain pamphlet on Mr. Quill.' Watson informed, 'You can come out, he's gone.' He added to her. 

'Why don't you people send me all the sixteen times?' She demanded, sliding into her chair, exhaling and tucking her hair behind in a bandanna.

'That's a good idea,' Watson agreed. 'But they'll all run away from you, Captain.'

'Run away?' She asked, narrowing her eyes.

'He's, for once, right. You do look fiercely regal. And ready to bite anybody's head off.' Fannel agreed, putting a hand on her shoulder from behind.

'Good morning, brother.' Alexandra grinned, 'And do I take that as a compliment?'

'I guess it is one,' Fred nodded. He was on the next table, but spies couldn't help listening to others' conversations, it was somewhere in their wiring. And when it was their friends', they couldn't help barging in either.

'Alright then, thank you!' She beamed, standing up to bow.

'That's fine,' he waved off, putting a brotherly arm around around her. 'Now you should be with the second years. They've already assembled there.'

'But I'm not even done with breakfast!' She protested. 'I didn't even begin!'

'Complete it in the lunch time, Mabel.'

'We have a new development, Agents!' Watson began. 'A strict, disciplinarian brother violates his sister's right to breakfa-'

'Young man, don't push me to violate your right to life,' Mark smiled broadly. 'I'm leaving for another trial - come on,' he whispered to her, then audibly added, to the whole Mess. 'In any case, we just got someone to fill Kane Alden's gap in the commentary.'

After she had seen Fannel off, Alexandra stretched, a little sleepy, and thought about going back to the mess.  But she wasn't particularly hungry now. And so she decided it was best she continued with the classes for the second years.

***

'Come on, Dew! Duck!' Alexandra exclaimed. 

All the fourth years were busy teaching the second years - it was a decent lot, not as good as her year, but considering the numbers, a good lot.

'I'm trying!' The boy whined.

'Try harder, I'll show it one last time!' She threatened, ducking in a second and standing up.

'That was too quick!'

She did it in slow motion. 'Now?'

'I can try,' he shrugged. And replicated it almost perfectly.

'That's good. Partner Nicoils,' she ordered. There were so many of them that the seven had to go from one person to another in quick succession.

After seeing three more, Alexandra decided she'd take a quick break. She broke free from the crowd of practitioners and walked over to the fence of the Arena.

Paul was standing there. 'Hello,' He said, as he saw Alexandra emerge.

'Break?' She asked, waving. 'This is tough - teaching sixteen of them!'

'Especially sixteen dunderheads,'

Alexandra grinned. 'They aren't that bad,'

'Maybe not,' Paul agreed, but he didn't seem satisfied. 'Your hair's come undone.' He then pointed.

'Oh,' she said, pulling it back. 'I had chopped it off - I would again, I just can find the blades!'

'Don't,' Paul replied sincerely. 'You look good this way,'

'Oh, thanks!' She twinkled. 'My sister believed long hair could add to anybody's good looks,' she added. Olivia had loved her lush hair and had lectured anybody who'd listen how she had grown them so healthy. To Alexandra, they had been a headache. She had, in fact, one night sneaked into the lady's chamber, and sliced off portions of her hair while Olivia had been sleeping, pushing them into the hearth. That had been fun, until Olivia had then refused to talk to her for a whole month. Not that Alexandra had cared much, she had just felt slightly bad for her sister. Maybe not even slightly bad ... just a tiny, infinitesimal bit.  

'You had a sister?' Paul asked, brows furrowed.

'Two,' Alexandra informed, smiling. 'Then we got separated,' she kept grinning, lest Paul would think she was very sad or upset; which she wasn't. 'It doesn't bother me much - they stayed in a safe place, I was pulled away.'

Paul nodded blinking. 'Were you aristocratic?'

'W-why?' She asked, recoiling immediately.

'You talk, walk, look - everything a bit differently. And the way you hold up your head, speak fearlessly - it's all markings. Markings which commoners are taught to respect.'

That was where the problems started. Markings were taught to be respected, not merits. 

'You're right,' but she relented, a part of her remembering how incorrigibly blunt she had been in Doveland. Nobody had ever told she was noble-like there. If there was some change, she didn't like it much. She wanted to merge in, not stand out. 'I was.' She nevertheless continued, 'the reason, perhaps, why I was so cold, and distant and rude in my first year here...'

'You weren't,' Paul said, setting his water glass down. 'we were. We didn't try to understand or know you. We never gave you a chance. But, you were so good, we had to see it. We were forced accept you were worthy. That you are worthy. And I never said this, though I should have - but I am sincerely sorry for the second year scandal.' And he didn't wait for a reply, simply merging back into the wrestling crowd.

Alexandra bit her lips - her involuntary action whenever she thought hard.

But yes, as she had surmised, she had won her place among her colleagues. And that was a good thing to know. Without giving it a second thought, she tossed her own glass down and re-entered the crowd. 

***

'So Fannel's off, that leaves Henry.' Watson whispered, sitting beside Alexandra as they ate dinner. Having also skipped lunch in order to steal a highly valuable book from a fifth year, she was extremely hungry. The fifth year had not returned the book to the library for the past three years, he probably deservedthe theft. And Alexandra didn't even want the book. Watson did.

'Yes, let's go now, Elf. We need to get an appointment with that snob, or ten to one we'll find him gone too.' She replied, pushing her plate away. They got up and navigated their way through the tables and masses of laughing men until they found Henry.

'Henry,' Watson said, Alexandra remaining behind - Henry wasn't particularly sweet on her.

'What's it?' He asked, rudely, 'Listen up, before you continue, my friend here, Ramates' favorite book has been stolen. Do you know anything-'

'Looking at me, do you believe me to be inclined towards reading, Sir?' Watson cross-questioned. And Henry had to accept that he had asked the wrong man.

Watson told him the details of their painful visit, nevertheless. He seemed to have a lot of practice of people speaking rudely to him, because he didn't flinch and back away like Alexandra would have when Henry interjected rude comments. 'So, could you help us - like tonight?'

'Wait there, Mabel - the girl who couldn't rope-walk - she's an exclusive?' Henry demanded, looking interested, but unpleasantly surprised.

'Yes,' Watson said. 'And actually, I had shaken the rope that day - so well ... but she's practically better than me so it is not favoritism, either. She has earned it.'

Henry stared at him like he was wondering if sending Watson off to detention would be worth it. But he finally seemed to decided against it. Straightening up, he asked, 'where is she?'

'I'm here,' Alexandra waved, joining Watson. Henry looked at her once, and then -

'You're Mabel?'

'Er - yes. You know.'

'You've grown a lot taller and you're different.' He shook his head, sizing her up with a hand to his chin.

'Yes - I'm different. But you aren't. Jokes aside, will you help us, with the flip?' She asked.

'I can't deny,' he confessed, shrugging.

'So you would deny, if you could?' She demanded.

'Mabel, don't push him!' Watson whispered, indignantly, but Henry looked at her drolly, like he'd just realized Alexandra had changed more than physically,

'In all probability, glamorous young lady.' He said, 'Yes. I would deny.'

'Thanks, that's a such a uplifting reunion.' Alexandra remarked. She would have said more, but Watson almost dragged her away.

'That,' he finally said, stopping, after he'd put enough distance between Henry and them. 'Was brave, but foolish.'

'I know, I was just checking.' She muttered.

'What were you checking?'

'If he still has his old spirit - And I meant it when I said it was an uplifting reunion, because Henry's certainly the old Henry still. Heartbreaks,' she nodded, like a philosopher, 'can change a person for the worse.'

'In our third year,' Watson tilted his head, 'I said I didn't agree you were too smart for life. Now I stand corrected.'

'Thanks,' She grinned. 'I will just catch up on my sleep, I think the night's going to be sleepless if we are learning to fall hard on our backs,' she added, taking for the dormitory.

***

Alexandra was sitting in a corner. 

No, she wasn't locked. Henry was too much like before. He was teaching Watson, and he'd asked her to sit for a while and that he'd come to her, but it was almost two hours and he hadn't.

Apparently, she hadn't changed much either. Because she was boiling with suppressed anger again. 

She watched for ten minutes more and then finally got up.

'Henry,' she declared. 'Will you please teach me?'

Both of them stopped. Henry turned, 'I can,' he said. 'But you won't be very comfortable with it,'

'I know that,' she said, impatiently. Of course she knew it! 'But I'll better being a bit uncomfortable now rather than being clueless when the need to use it arises. In real life.'

He exhaled, lips pursed. Her language had got heavier, perhaps.

 'Fine, Watson - your turn to sit. Mabel, I did warn you,' he then said.

'And I didn't heed your warning, yes.'  She agreed, taking her place in front of him. Alexandra had grown taller. She was just an inch shorter than Henry, which was quite tall for a woman.

'First off,' He exhaled. 'Weight doesn't matter. Which is why, I will tell you beforehand, you can't give the excuse in case you are unable to do it. Secondly, you can take your cloak off-'

'Oh, sorry,' she interrupted, unfastening and dropping it.

'Third and most important-' he began, then without a warning, moved lightening fast, picking her clean off her feet and flipping her over. The fall really was wicked. And Alexandra half-regretted laughing on Watson. Watson had said he would laugh when she was flipped, but he didn't - perhaps because he knew that pain.

'No one will warn you before flipping you over,' Henry completed. He then offered a hand to hand, she took it, standing up. 'Comfortable?' He asked, with the slightest hint of a smirk.

'Very,' she lied - and Henry knew she was lying.

But he nodded. 'Try it once. On me.'

'What?' She asked stupidly. A crafty idea was taking shape in her mind.

'Try it on me,' Henry repeated.

'But I don't know how to!' She announced, frowning.

Henry shook his head, a bit exasperated, he came forward, and bent slightly to show her again.

But the crafty idea was that - she did know how to do it. 

Just as he bent slightly, to show her how it was done, Alexandra thrust her hands across, like she'd seen Master George do, holding Henry round the right side. As she did that, the senior understood her plan. But it was too late, now. She bent backwards, lifting him clean off his feet, and bending her right knee - she dropped him behind, heaving a sigh and dropping to her own knees.

Watson got up, whistling. 'I demand a replay!' He yelled.

Alexandra got up instantly and swiveled behind, her technique could have been poor, and poor technique was very harmful, she wanted to see if Henry had dropped the way she had, right on the back.

He had. And she offered her hand to help him up - Henry accepted it.

'I had once read,' he shook his head, dusting his clothes. 'That everyone meets their match, once in life. In someone they might have least expected it to be. And I think I just met mine.' He informed it, in a low voice, so only Alexandra could hear.

Honestly, it was the best compliment she had ever received.

Two more hours later, when they had perfected the technique, she left for the dormitory. Watson said he had some business, which either meant he had to go for Lily Scented Mints again, or he really had some serious business (of which, the probability was never too high).

Everyone meets their match, once in life. In someone they might have least expected it to be, was playing in her mind. That was true, no doubt. But if it was - had Alexandra met her match? And if it was so, who was it? Definitely not her year-mates - no way. They were all good, but they just couldn't be. In all probability, the only name which came to Alexandra again and again was Kane. That fellow was reserved and spoke much less (unless he was asked to do a commentary). Yet, the only time she'd been pitted against him - in the third year final exam, that fear had been on a different plane altogether. She hadn't felt that afraid when she was exiled and wandering through the country unguarded. Not when she'd been stalked. Not when she had had to duel Master George. Not when she had had to duel the huge Blaise Quill. No. That day - night, actually - she'd been completely at a loss. Completely stupefied. If there did exist someone Alexandra was afraid of angering - it was Kane. Maybe, after Liam. Liam, who was a complete mystery to her, still.

But why worry? Both trusted Alexandra. And then again, she thought - as she lay down on her bed, unstrapping Moira and yawning - the mattress was quite comfortable. It was already eleven and rather late. She slipped under the covers and fell into a deep slumber.

That had been a normal day at the council for Alexandra - the very same Exiled Princess who had once considered her life plain and boring.

When life changed, the definition of everyday things changed too - perhaps.