I could now see why King Athon liked him.
They were much alike.
* * *
I stared at the skeletons embedded in the royal arena’s exterior, ignoring Bishop’s prodding to hurry me along. The moon lit the outside of the bustling building—the skeletons—in a morbid warning. I cocked my head, and asked, “Whose skeletons are these? They are too big for an elf.”
Bishop stared in infuriated exasperation, his hands dropping to his sides. He’d heeded my warning not to touch me again, but he was more than capable of herding me with hand gestures. “I thought you were supposed to be smart?”
“Fuck you, shifter,” I hissed, fatigued from my day. “Just answer me. I’ve never read about this before.”
His sigh was long-suffering. “These are the bones of all the previous shifter rulers. When they die, their skeletons are preserved in the stone of the royal arena. A caution of what challenging the current ruler truly means, their kings and queens who have died for them.”
I took a quick step back and glanced back and forth over the royal arena’s walls. My mouth gaped open. I stammered, “But there are so many!”
“There are,” Bishop agreed solemnly. “But no more than any other kingdom.”
Seeing them displayed like this, I straightened my back. I reached out a hand and traced over the bones of a previous ruler. I whispered, “One day, my own skeleton will be laid bare inside a grave. I hope I do our realm justice in the meantime.”
Bishop held perfectly still, watching as I touched one of his long-dead rulers. He cleared his throat, and his forehead wrinkled in confusion as he hesitantly reassured, “I’m sure every heir has felt as you do now. You will do fine when you eventually take the elven crown.”
I blinked and lowered my hand, glancing at him. “That is the first cordial thing you’ve said to me.”
A scowl instantly formed on his face. “Yes, I am surprised I said that as well. Don’t expect it often, because I won’t make a habit of it.”
I shook my head in irritation. “Just lead the way, Bishop.”
He marched past me in a huff, glaring over his shoulder. “Keep your head down and staydirectlybehind me from here on out.”
My sandaled feet went into motion to catch up with his far-reaching strides. I literally placed my body right behind his, matching my steps with his legs. I mumbled near his back, “Is this to your liking?”
“You are absurd.”
But he didn’t stop me, so I stayed as his shadow while we maneuvered through the crowd. The congestion was tighter the closer we hiked to the massive entrance. Shifters elbowed one another and shoved their neighbors, all to enter first for the best seat. My head thumped against Bishop’s back when I was shoved from behind.
After that, I crinkled my nose in disgust and hooked my fingers into the back of his bold, orange uniform pants to keep from being separated. I mumbled, “We will never talk about this.”
He grunted, correctly so, in agreement.
The traffic stalled right outside the arena. I was shoved between his body and a wall. I looked up and stared, aghast at a ruler’s skeleton that had been defaced, the skull shattered, and the chest caved in over the heart.
I sputtered in dismay, “W-Who would do such a thing?”
Bishop glanced over his shoulder, his eyes taking in my view. A dark chuckle shook his chest. “That would my king’s handiwork. We had much ale one night, and that was his father.”
I snapped my mouth shut. Oh my Fae.
My fingers tightened on his pants.
We finally began walking again—slowly—and progressed past the main doors. The crowd soon fanned out on the outer edges of the circular arena, sprinting for the finest seats.
I shook my head at their bloodthirsty actions.
Fights erupted the closer we ventured to the rocky base floor—where the challenge would take place. I held tight onto Bishop’s pants as we took the stairs down. We were jostled side to side on more than one occasion. Fairy, Bishop dodged punches left and right…and threw a few of his own that landed on their intended victims.
Blood and spit sprayed the air, coating my lowered face past my hood. I was drenched in crimson by the time Bishop pointed to a seat for me to take—in the front row and in the center of a group of guards wearing bold, orange clothing.
“I don’t think that is a wise idea,” I advised.
