Marius laughs. “Of course. I will speak to you again,mek Tyrna.”
I smile at the premature use of the moniker and end the call.
Gaius’s officeappears to be more of a museum than a place of work, and I find myself staring curiously at his overflowing collection of artifacts. Every wall is lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, covered in an array of both strange and familiar pieces of technology from the empire’s past and present. While I am certain he did not build this collection himself, it is interesting nonetheless.
“And you have reviewed the contract?” Gaius asks, folding his hands over his ample belly.
I settle into one of the unyielding stone chairs, crossing an ankle over my knee. “I have.”
Gaius, the Magistrate of this planet, watches me with a predatory gaze. He is Vhortahi, like myself, but it is painfully clear that our only similarities lie in our DNA. He has never lived on our home planet, nor does he have any interest in our people’s values.
In a crowd of Vhorathis, he would stick out like a blood stain on a white tunic. Not because he is different, but because he is insecure about those differences. He is a bit under two meters tall—which is not unusual—yet he wears shoes to give him added height. His horns are underdeveloped and show signs of premature cracking, but he has gilded them to hide their imperfections. He pretends to be fearless, and yet he wears a personal electron shield generator around his neck.
His rule over the Coliseum has been marked by dubious methods and erratic laws, and while his methods are technically legal, they lack any sense of honor. Despite this, he hasmaintained his position for a surprisingly long time. At least 15 cycles on this planet. Needless to say, his replacement is high on my list of priorities.
“Excellent,” he shouts, clapping his hands together. “I am glad you have read and understood the agreement. Just to confirm, you still agree to the addendum on your medical care? You have not had any … life changes since we last spoke?” He raises his brows and scratches the base of one of his gilded horns.
Word does travel fast.
“I understand your propensity for hiring female nurses and the position that it puts me in, yes. And there have been no life changes.”
Gaius stares at me, clearly waiting for a further reaction. I hold his gaze and wait for him to continue.
“Right, yes. And you are aware we have not stocked any sedatives for you? Even for an emergency?”
“As I have already stated, I havereadthe contract.” This is becoming tedious.
Gaius unfurls a ridiculous scroll and gives me a curt smile. “Of course. If you accept the terms, please place your print here.” He points to a blank space at the bottom of the page.
Without hesitation, I sink a fang into the pad of my thumb, squeeze out a bead of blood, and stamp the contract. I was hoping this moment would be more … celebratory, but I suppose that is the way of things. You build them up in your mind until reality has no way of competing.
Gaius smiles. “Excellent. I will have the guards escort you to the preparation chamber.”
“When will the fight begin?”
His eyes narrow, and in a voice dripping with disdain and pomp, he says, “You are not a Prince of Vhorath right now. Youare a gladiator.Mygladiator. And you fight whenIsay it is time to fight.”
I do my best to hide my amusement.
Now that the power dynamic has flipped, the hungry cretin I have heard so much about appears. Many people try to paint Gaius as mad, but he has held this position for a long time, and I doubt someone lost in the storm of insanity could accomplish that. No. He is not mad. He is just driven by an insatiable thirst for dominance, and now that he has the future King of the Vhorathi Empire in his grasp, he is salivating.
It is as ridiculous as it his hilarious. Yes, we have a contract, but the contract is between him and me. It is only binding while we both draw breath, and he only draws breath because I let him.
I wonder if he realizes that?
Naturally, I could not kill him without consequences, and I would not want to anyway. He is lucky, really. It is not in my nature to disrespect his position of power. But, neither will I allow his arrogance to go unacknowledged.
When I stand, I do so slowly, rolling up to my full height until I am towering over his bent form. Taking my time, I examine a collection of old hand-held holoComs on a dusty shelf, poking one out of its neat alignment while watching Gaius scowl out of the corner of my eye. He does not scold me, and that alone tells me all I need to know.
With a curt nod, I duck through the doorway, gripping the stone arch with enough force to crack it before saying, “I will see you in the stands, Magistrate.”
3
VALIANT SPIRES
VEXAR
THE COLISEUM’S CROWD is thunderous. A chorus of thousands—cheers, chants, and violent stomps—that blend into a rabid cacophony. It is both infectious and distracting. But I must focus. I must use my training.
