"Mo-ra-na." The prince seemed to be tasting my name on the tip of his tongue, it elicited a wave of goosebumps on my skin.
"That name isn't from around here. Is it? Or is that your arena name?" His voice teased in a cold way. My mouth was dry. My chest tight and fingers sweaty. I curled and then relaxed them.
"You ask a lot of questions. One might assume you know, no better." Gasps arose from those around us. I was being bold and yet so entirely foolish.
"Morana!" Tello choked out. The prince's face was blank and then suddenly chilling laughter was heard. He sounded amused.
"You sound like my father. What a bore—" He inspected the ink like black blood on his glove more and then wiped it off on his golden cloak. "It's almost a shame that I have already settled on making you my selected champion."
The crowd went silent, and then erupted into deafening cheers.
I, however, was confused. My mouth opened. And then closed. Was this a punishment?
"Is this a joke?" I gasped out.
The prince had a blank face once again. "I rarely ever make jokes. But it's okay, you will learn that.Andhopefully with time how to control your mouth." My eyes widened and I was about to bite back a protest until a loud caw sounded and a burst of wind and feathers appeared on the arena floor.
Fala.
I almost collapsed in relief from seeing her.
"Interesting." The prince frowned at Fala who was human again.
"Morana!" Ezra pushed through the main gate, running to my side followed by Dezimus and Elijah. They had made a bow to the prince, acknowledging his presence.
We all stood behind Fala.
"Thank you for attending the performance, Your Highness. It seems the lone survivor of the warriors is being cleaned up in hopes you will still choose him."
"No, it seems that won’t be necessary, I will be leaving with my warrior now. I do regret having to miss the rest of the show," the prince replied charmingly. His olive skin looked smooth. His hair swept in white locks. Yes. Attractive enough to make the whole women of the arena swoon. And powerful enough to make the men of the arena look greedy.
"So you have settled on Klarc, wise choice." Fala began to usher us out.
"Why choose Klarc when our lovely Morana interrupted the performance? Isn't it code for an arena warrior to call out for help before receiving it?" the prince enquired.
Oh no…
"It is." Fala grit out.
"Rules are. If another arena performer interferes, they get kicked out or killed. It's arena law." This prince was cunning. And horrible.
"I gave her permission," Fala calmly answered.
"You can’t change the rules. Unless you want your entire establishment here burnt to the ground."
He wasn't just horrible. He was cruel. I was brimming with rage at the thought of him setting this place alight. All of our hard work.
Dritan strode in with his guards. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I am in no mood to demand it twice. The girl broke arena code. Being my warrior is not just a punishment, it ismercy.” The prince took off his gloves and handed it to his guard, Inanov, who was grim faced.
The prince remained standing where he was, staring at me with determination. Ezra held my hand tight, the prince easily took noticed of this.
"Dritan. Do something, you know what she means to me," Fala urged. Her voice not so calm anymore.
"He is right in all he said. Morana should not have interrupted the fight."
"The cliftolights were going to kill everyone!" I argued, my breathing was erratic.
