“One!” the referee shouted. “Two! Three!”
Rowan leaned over the ropes, red-faced with frustration. “Get up, lad! Get up!”
Alexander blinked. He was completely dazed as he searched for Theodora. A slight movement caught his eye.
“Theo!” he roared.
She turned back and frowned at him before she pushed through the crowd and hurried towards the exit.
“Ten! He’s out!” the referee declared.
The crowd groaned disappointedly but Alexander couldn’t care less.
He watched helplessly as Theodora walked out of the Iron Pit.
Why is she so upset?
Rowan climbed into the ring and held out a hand; Alexander did not hesitate. He reached out, grabbed onto his sweaty palms and got up. Pain shot through his ribs, but he ignored it. When he let go of Rowan’s hand he grabbed a shirt and pulled it on before he bolted through the ropes.
“Lad!” Rowan shouted behind him. “Where are ye goin’? Ye cannae run after?—”
But Alexander was already gone. He passed the screaming crowd and ignored their insults. Outside, the cool, silent air enveloped him but there was no trace of Theodora around.
Perhaps I imagined her.
“Theodora!” He called her name and his voice echoed in the silence of the night.
He turned just in time to catch the ends of a familiar cloak disappearing into a narrow alley beside the building. He ran and skidded to a halt when he found her.
“You came!” Alexander exclaimed breathlessly and grinned.
Theodora whirled around. Her hood fell back slightly and revealed her blazing green eyes. She pointed an accusing finger in his direction.
“What,” she hissed, “is wrong with you?”
Alexander was taken aback by her fury. “I—pardon?”
“You should not be fighting!” she snapped, stepping closer. “You are injured. You could—” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “You could have been seriously hurt.”
“But I am fine.” He spun around to prove that he was all right.
Theodora shook her head, reached into her reticule, and pulled out an envelope which she handed to him hastily.
“What is this?” he asked curiously.
“It is an invitation for Rosalind… from theCorset Chronicles,” she said without looking at him.
He stared at her, completely stunned. Alexander tucked the letter into his pocket; he would deal with that later.
“Is that the only reason why you came?”
“Yes,” she responded stubbornly.
“You are… angry?”
“Of course I am angry!” she burst out. “You are reckless and stubborn and—” She gestured wildly at his jaw which he assumed had already started to bruise. “And clearly incapable of basic self-preservation! Did you not think about Rosalind at all?”
He had never seen her like this. She was flushed, breathless, and utterly furious. But there was a certain kind of anxiousness she displayed that made him feel, oddly, warm inside.
