Gerard sat down, chewing at the inside of his mouth. His performance in this morning’s duel replayed over an over in his mind. Sloppy form. Laughably weak defense. He laid his sword across his knees. With each swipe of the polishing cloth against the dented blade, he considered how to improve before the next duel. The metal gleamed in the afternoon light, as if determined to improve with him. Practice, he decided, a lot more practice.