Chapter 188
The din of the arena is a constant roar that doesn’t let up, even after the first fight ends. The crowd doesn’t tire; their bloodlust seems endless.
Battle after battle unfolds below, none as vicious or consequential as the one with Wake and Khale, but each met with the same feverish enthusiasm. My stomach twists with every cheer, my unease growing heavier as the hours drag on.
When I mention the crowd’s unrelenting energy, Kota leans back in his seat, the golden scales at his temples catching the dim, shifting light of the arena. He takes a slow sip from his mug before responding. “Fight days are a spectacle,” he says, his voice carrying a lazy arrogance. “They happen once a week, but this tournament? This is a special celebration. It doesn’t end until the tournament ends.”
Kelis laughs, a grating, guttural sound that makes me wince. He lifts his own mug—a crude, barnacle-encrusted thing filled with some frothy, golden liquid—and downs half of it in a single gulp. “Some of these idiots will sleep here tonight,” he says, gesturing toward the crowd with a broad sweep of his arm. “So scared to lose their seats that they’ll miss their own beds. Pathetic.”
Cora bristles beside me, her spine straightening as she turns to Kelis, her green eyes sharp. “Do you all share such disdain for your subjects?” she asks, her voice cold and clipped.
Kota smirks over the rim of his mug. “Commoners are... common,” he says, as if the word itself is distasteful.
Raif, who has been sitting in brooding silence, waves a dismissive hand at them both. “These attitudes,” he says, his voice low and deliberate, “are precisely what I aim to eradicate. When the Sunrise spans all seven seas, even the lowest of Tangaroans will be kings among Enkians.”
I can’t help but scoff at that, the sound escaping me before I can stop it. “And you plan to do that,” I say, “by forcing your people to fight one another?”
Kota gives me a withering look. “No one forces them. Even prisoners are given the right to choose battle over incarceration, ” he says, his tone dripping with disdain. “They fight to honor Tangaroa, to prove their strength.”
“To execute one another for entertainment?” Cora cuts in, her voice rising slightly. Her hands are clenched into fists in her lap, her knuckles white.
Kelis snickers, leaning forward in his seat. “Were you worried your precious princeling would die today?” he sneers, his tone mocking.
Raif, however, doesn’t seem amused. He leans back in his seat, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “If Khale perished today, he would deserve every inch of steel laid through his throat,” he says coldly. “That said, the Abyssinian surprised me. I won’t be caught off guard tomorrow.”
My heart skips a beat. “Tomorrow?” I ask cautiously. “What’s happening tomorrow?”
Kelis grins, baring his sharp teeth. “The Menagerie.”
Kota blinks, clearly surprised. “On the second day?” he asks.
Raif nods once, his expression unwavering. “They’re here to show their worth,” he says. “I want to see how much they can endure.”
The conversation makes my skin crawl. I force myself to remain composed, but every muscle in my body feels coiled, ready to spring. “I need to use the restroom,” I say abruptly, rising from my seat.
Kota waves a hand dismissively. “Go,” he says, then nods to a nearby guard. “Take her.”
The guard grunts in acknowledgment and gestures for me to follow. As I make my way through the arena, the noise of the crowd fades slightly, replaced by the hum of activity in the outer corridors.
Merchants line the walls, their stalls overflowing with goods: beaded jewelry that glimmers like trapped starlight, handwoven cloth dyed in rich, vivid hues, and trays of food that send tantalizing scents wafting through the water.
Everywhere I look, people avert their gazes when they see me. Some bow their heads; others turn away entirely. It’s unsettling, the weight of their deference pressing down on me. And the tails—so many tails. I’d almost forgotten, surrounded as I have been by Raif and his brothers, that the people of this world are not like me. Seeing Wake and Khale fight as mermen today had been startling enough, but now I’m surrounded by fins of every shape and color, shimmering and shifting in the dim light.
The guard stops at the entrance to a hallway and gestures for me to hurry. “Make it quick,” he grumbles.
I step into the bathing room, expecting something similar to the stadium restrooms I’m used to on land. Instead, I find myself in a sprawling bathhouse. Pools of varying sizes and temperatures are scattered throughout the space, some steaming, others cool and inviting.
Women move languidly through the water, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Attendants exchange brushes, bath oils, and other luxuries for small coins, their movements practiced and efficient.
It’s overwhelming, the sheer difference of it all. I turn on my heel and head back to the hallway, where the guard waits impatiently. “Why are there so many people in there?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Women get bored of the fighting,” he says. “They waste time in there while their men watch.”
I glance back at the bathhouse, an idea forming. “I’d like to take a bath,” I say.
The guard gives me a look that makes it clear he’d like nothing more than to throttle me.
“I am a woman, and violence makes me queasy.”
He rolls his eyes. Hard. “Make it quick.”
I lift my chin, meeting his glare. “I’ll make it as long as I like,” I say, my voice steady. It’s a gamble, relying on the authority I supposedly hold as Kota’s intended, but it pays off. The guard mutters something under his breath but ultimately gives a grudging nod and turns away.
For the first time in days, I’m alone.
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