Dahlia of Gold

{ 23: A Colorful Truth }

So maybe she was more inclined to accept him– not forgive, she couldn't bring herself to do such a thing– because Ilioszo was her source of amusement and curiosity. Maybe he could become the source of her morality and the rules of a life neither utopian nor dystopian.

That was hope talking, again.

Either way, she found Ilioszo more useful alive than dead and she had no desire to think of him as just that– something useful. No. Ilioszo was a being who was utterly intelligent and held stories he could not speak, all because of the Sidien who owned him.

She clenched her jaw at the thought.

They stepped down the stairs towards the first row, closest to the center of the audience's enjoyment.

She tilted her head with morbid curiosity as she found the marble center to be covered in splatters of crimson blood. Half-bloods, of course, bled much like the human species, when they were still crawling like fire ants on the surface. Washed away, all that was left of them were these outcasts, who, according to the Duke and his entire empire, were objects to be bought and sold.

"Here." Phobos held his hand out towards the first row, which was marginally empty.

Duke Orfeo was seated a few chairs down, eyes darting from the stage, to the watch adorning his wrist, then back to the stage. He was dressed in a black suit, just as luxurious as the dress she wore– and the attire everyone else was wearing.

Lykalis turned to ask Phobos why he found the Duke so merciful– when he clearly wasn't– but found herself alone next to the first aisle. She faced Duke Orfeo again and frowned. The older man was looking at her, a pleasant smile on his face.

He was watching a dead woman walk.

Not that Lykalis would allow such a thing.

She traveled towards him, before sitting one seat away from him.

"I trust Phobos guided you with ease?" He asked cheerfully, as if they were friends.

Lykalis opened her mouth to reply when another uproarious roar of cheer threatened to burst her eardrums. She glanced at the marble stage and found herself staring at one half-blood brutally clawing the other, blood spilling from open wounds.

Duke Orfeo followed her gaze, smile widening.

"Now this one is particularly fun." He started. "A lion half-blood versus a tiger half-blood. It looks like the tiger's winning."

Lykalis listened to the way he spoke of them like animals, like dogs, like pets.

It made her heart twist in her chest, an uncomfortable knot forming under her ribcage. Kolteans were brutal and often merciless– that was simply their nature, which applied to Lykalis as well. But she very much doubted that any normal Koltean could enjoy such a savage display as this.

She didn't respond to the Duke as the tiger half-blood clamped sharpened teeth around the lion's throat, viciously ripping the flesh around his neck. The lion half-blood fell to the ground, convulsing as crimson blood pooled around his flesh.

The tiger half-blood stood, spitting blood and skin out of his mouth. He wiped at his face, tail flicking back and forth as his ears remained stock straight on his head. Short locks of hair were clumped with drying blood, bloodthirsty eyes flicking across the crowd.

Lykalis gazed at the scars crossing over his chest and torso– wondered how many times he'd fought, how many half-bloods he'd killed.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself, Heiress." Duke Orfeo grinned.