As a new queen rises to power, the kings of Caeleste grow unrest. The Inlustris in their sights, they send an assassin to Antonella Feulune's palace, and the war is declared.
Inexperienced and filled with grief, Antonella sends off her fiancé on a t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The mixture of victorious shouts and angry jeers filled the entire room. The winner of the match puffed up his chest, resulting in more roaring from the audience from all directions. The loser laid down on the ring, blood oozing from his nose and lips, shivering from the pain he must feel in every ounce of his battered body.
I pursed my lips as I stared at King Davian. He continued clapping for the winner as he leaned into his bodyguard to say something. I turned my head when he looked in my direction. My pulse jumped as I tried to make it look like I was casually looking around, surrounded by my gang.
For one terrifying second I thought he'd recognize me.
Then I remembered I was masked.
A sigh of relief escaped me as my erratic pulse calmed down. I didn't need to grow nervous over King Davian. That man proved time and time again that he was as clueless as a person could be. He was an inept leader and an even worse negotiator. There was a reason why Solennes Jubar was in so much debt, and it was all due to his foolish decisions. That alone meant he wouldn't recognize me even if he tried. There wasn't much of a brain there to begin with.
I stared again, seeing King Davian start speaking to another suited man. A spark ignited inside of me, and I had to crush it in case it made itself tangible in my hands. However, I itched to hear whatever he had to say without the filter he used to speak to my parents in their reign or to speak to me presently.
What was King Davian really like?
Standing by the edge of the gang, I glanced around trying to figure out how I could get closer to the king. My eyes darted around until I saw the darkness between each bleacher. I bit down on my lip and stepped away from the Tenebrosus Bleeders.
Bachus continued speaking about the plan to raid King Rasmus' palace, so everyone was focused on him, recording his words in their brains. I took that as my chance to escape.
In a swift motion, I was in between the crowd, pushed around like a rag doll. I struggled to find my footing, but I managed to make my way to the bleachers. People cheered around me, screaming in Jubarian towards the ring as the winner flaunted his win.
I thought the fighter would've been gone by now. Then again, Jubarens were known for boasting about their successes. The king couldn't follow in the tradition. He was so nose deep in debt that there wasn't anything he could do to make his kingdom progress, thus nothing to brag about.
I snickered to myself. He kept blaming everyone around him instead of realizing that he was the problem. He didn't know how to make a kingdom blossom, he knew how to whine.
I ducked under the bleachers, and, using brisk steps, I made my way to where King Davian sat. Sweat and beverages, mostly rum, dripped down from where people sat as they continued on cheering the winner.
I grew annoyed. When would that winner get out? Was he going to stand there for a whole hour? What a waste of time. They should get another match going if they wanted more time to stay in there.
