Because that was how Imperator Hart intended for me to be seen. And exactly how he planned to keep me. Under his control, unable to fight back.
I bit my lip, trying to prepare for what came next. “Will the rest of my armor and weapons be returned? I assume if His Highness wants me to be an actual soturion of Ka Hart, I’ll need a sword at some point.”
Dario grunted non-commitally.
“What?” I asked. “No sassy come-back?”
His eyes narrowed. He always had something to say.
“Oh wait, it’s too early for you. Isn’t it? Let me guess,” my voice filled with saccharine sweetness, “Nursing a hangover?”
“You know what!” Dario yelled. “Whatever Rhyan told you before, forget it. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. And neither does he. Not anymore. So maybe, just maybe, for once, shut the fuck up.”
“Likewise,” I seethed.
His nostrils flared. “I’ll be outside. Come out when your armored up. If you even know how to put it on!”
He slammed the door.
I punched a mat against the wall. I hated everything about this. After everything I’d been through, everything I’d learned, I was back as a fucking student in a fucking soturion academy.
Then, knowing I had no other choice, I began the process of buckling and tightening each strap of my golden, seraphim armor. When everything was tightened, and my dagger secured at my hip, I walked outside to the track. Hundreds of soturi jogged by me, all taking their positions. Without fail, every single one stopped to look at me.
Imperator Hart had gotten his wish. I was a spectacle on every level. My golden armor stood out against the sea of black leather like a beacon. And the morning sun left my hair a bright flaming red.
But there was something else that made me stand out. At home, there’d been an equal number of men and women who joined the soturi. I’d never thought twice about that. But here, I had to actively search for the women. There were few and far between the men, who seemed to be moving closer and closer to me.
My heart pounded, until Dario grabbed my hand. He’d slammed his dagger into the ground, and jerked his chin for me to follow.
I did, my eyes searching desperately for a glimpse of Rhyan. I needed to see him. To see how he was doing. And to find a way to talk to him.
A moment later, he was there, marching toward me.
My heart leapt at once at the sight of him, my feet already starting to move.
But it was Dario who brought me back, who reminded me of the game.
“That look on your face,” he muttered, “better be for your betrothed. Unless you want to have a very, very shitty day.”
I froze. Kane was marching right behind Rhyan. Imperator Hart had made it more than clear that I was to convince everyone of my engagement to Kane. And that next time, he’d demand a kiss. And all at once, I could feel myself giving in. My eyes on Kane, my feet taking me toward him. I tried to step back, and immediately, felt a jolt of pain in my chest, running out through my arms.
“My bride,” Kane yelled, causing everyone in the arena to turn in our direction.
A cold front from Rhyan blew past me.
“Give me a hug,” Kane said, “for good luck before your run.”
“Thank you,” I said, and bounced on my heels, running to him. I was ready to vomit. Every instinct in my body told me to turn away. To run in the opposite direction. Or betteryet, to run to Rhyan. But instead, against everything inside me, I raced into Kane’s arms, and hugged him.
He smelled like sweat. Immediately I pulled back, and waved as if the interaction were over, running back to my dagger and Dario, my fingers tensed. The ring on my finger felt too tight, too small.
But a moment later, my stomach plunged, my body feeling hollow, as a heavy arm was slung over my shoulder.
“Give me a kiss,” Kane demanded.
“No,” I said, my blood running cold. Imperator Hart wasn’t here and without a direct order from him telling me to do it, I wouldn’t. I refused. But my heart pounded, painfully so.
“If you want the scrolls Imperator Hart promised you, do it.”
