I make my way through the narrow bridge, taking the steps that creak with the weight of my body. My eyes lift from the cracks in the wood, up to meet… all the men who stare, right at me. They pause mid-throw with their daggers, the archers drop their bows down, and the swords stop clashing. The pit goes silent.
My throat strains, feeling it close in. I let my boots hit against the ground and nod, my lips forming a tight smile.I hate this.
In the distance, Kaine practices archery with a ghostly-white bow and arrows with tips covered in a charcoal black. He moves with grace, his hair flying wildly in the stormy breeze, and hits the targets of straw and hay with ease. Directly in the center of the red circles. I roll my eyes, letting a laugh escape my lips, as if he even needs the practice. Theon, on the other hand, wields a sword in the opposite corner of the arena, his blade clashing against another's with a steady rhythm. I can almost hear the metallic clangs from where I stand.
I know I should move, yet I am frozen to the warm ground beneath me.
But it is Koen, sitting against the dark walls of the arena alone with a bent knee up, who catches my attention. He’s upset. It's written all over his face and body movements. With a rope in hand, he ties intricate knots, pulling them taut with a violent tug before unraveling them with ease. His hands are swift, but his muscles tighten against his shirt with each pull. I can’t help but fixate on him.
What is he trying to control?
As if sensing my gaze, Koen looks up and meets my eyes with a weak smile. But as quick as he saw me, his eyes leave me just as fast. I can’t help but feel a flicker of warmth in my chest at the sight of him.
But also sadness. As Florian once told me, he doesn’t open up to people. I know better than to try and force him to.
However, I feel a force pulling me towards him, either to give in to the urge to kill him for everything he has put me through, or to be there for him in his moment of pain.
I rip my eyes away and begin to wonder where the hell I should even go to prepare for the upcoming games. I have no clue on what the first game will be or what any of them willbe like. I walk through the arena, trying to pick up a sword but it weighs me down. I steal a glance at Koen, knowing he is watching me too. He shakes his head.
Heat flushes up my neck in embarrassment. I can’t believe I thought I could kill him when I can’t even lift a damn sword.
I grab the sword with two hands this time, my teeth grinding together, but it's no use.
“What the hell are these made out of?” I mutter out to myself.
“Well would you look here…” A man with a slight accent growls behind me. “She can’t even pick up a damn sword.”
Men laugh with him. I bite my lip and drop the sword, turning around.
Five men, one with auburn-red waves and a thick beard stands in the middle. A face tattoo of markings that look similar to those of the language of the flames. A man with buzzed hair, piercings along his pointed ears and nose. The other three, all with golden locks, braids twisted in their hair but the same scent is present along the five of them…the sea.
Must be a part of Dryden’s crew.
“I’m doing a little warm up.” My shoulder lifts and I begin to stretch out my arms. “It's the best thing to do before diving in, don’t you think?”
Another hysterical bellow escapes the man with auburn hair, his emerald eyes squinting as he snorts. “You’re a funny one.”
“Oh, I’ve heard I wasa feisty one. Not a funny one.” I glance at them, placing my hands on my hips. “Are you guys going to go practice for the games? Or stand here all day watching me?”
The buzzed hair man takes a step forward, gripping his dagger on his hip. “Do you need a reminder of last night? Seems as if you feel you’re untouchable here, but we can show you how wrong you are.”
“Yeah, how's your back doing?” The one with the golden braids yells out.
Shit. They are with Dryden.
I rake my fingers through the tangles of my midnight-black hair, a sneer curling my lips. “I had no idea Dryden kept a few mindless puppets to go around doing his dirty work. I thought he was braver than to hide behind a few scrawny men?”
My tongue speaks before my mind can even stop me.What the hell is wrong with me?
The man with buzzed hair takes another step closer, his dagger glinting in the sun that peeks through the clouds. “Watch your tongue, little lady. Dryden is not one to be disrespected. Nor will those who fight the deadly sea with him.”
He’s right.I really should watch my tongue.
I let out a scoff. “Well, instead of him hiding off in the distance somewhere, if he wants me dead, he is going to have to come do it himself.”
The golden-braided warrior steps forward now, cracking his knuckles menacingly. “We can just take you to him. Right boys?”
The third man chuckles darkly but doesn't move from his position at the edge of the group, elbowing the other next to him. He is the tallest of them all and the scars slashed across his face creates a knot in my throat that grows by the second.
