The Colosseum

Parasite

Kova

Leon has no idea where Ten made off to, or if he left here on his own accord. The stench of old irony blood and cleaning chemicals hangs in the stiff palace air. Marble that used to be so clean and shiny that I could see myself in it has turned to rubble, gunpowder stains on the wall, burnt hair floating in the breeze of the social room. Maids vigorously work to straighten the chaos out, but it's evident to everyone with eyes that there's no use.

"I need a drink," Ezra sighs, heading towards the kitchen, towing me along with him.

Resisting, I tug my wrist out of his hand, the coldness of night biting at the shadow of his warmth. Despite our resolution to wait until tomorrow to think about tonight, I can't stop my mind from replaying the guards who attacked their own once they were poisoned. "Where are the imprisoned guards?" I question.

"Why?" Ezra replies, clearly perplexed about my asking.

"I just want to see them. When they started attacking, something about it seemed familiar."

Furrowing his dark brows, he notes, "That's an odd thing to be acquainted with..." Over his shoulder, he calls for Leon, who steps forwards. "Go ahead and take Kova to the prisoners."

Dutifully, he nods. "Yes, your majesty." To me, "This way, Kova."

Before we part ways, I call over to Ezra. "Ten told me there are documents hidden in the palace. Supposedly, they have the answers as to why your parents pit you two against each other. Maybe we should start looking for those before we're attacked again." Looking around at the rumble and bloodstains, I can only hope we find the stowed answers before this place is totally burned to ash.

"I'll start now while I'm restless. Leon, take good care of her."

"No promises," he jokes. Then to me, he mumbles, "If anything, you're the one who should protect me."

"You were raised to protect Ezra," I point out. "You weren't taught to fight?"

"Of course I was," he gawps like I'm a moron for asking. "I was classically trained, but I don't get my hands dirty like you do."

Frowning, I pick my way across potholes and piles of dust. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if you can stab someone in the heart, you don't mind sacrificing your shoulder to do so. You put everything but your life on the line when you fight instead of taking more tactical measures that require patience, like me."

Scoffing, I gesture at the cesspool around us. "I think the goal of today's fight wasn't to make sure I didn't get hurt, but to try and take down as many of those soldiers as possible. There isn't time to wait for the perfect strike when lives are on the line."

"There's always time," Leon darkly says, as if he himself is lurking in the shadows for the perfect opportunity to enact something.

Switching the subject to something, hopefully, lighter, I ask, "What else did you learn?"

Pleased to be asked, a small smile spreads across his light lips. "Everything about politics, the history of the royal families, the art of negotiation. We got to pick one subject to specialize on that we thought would aid the kingdom, and I chose chemistry. And if I may say so myself, I'm not too shabby of a chemist."

"Why chemistry? How would that help Ezra?" I murmur, following Leon through a web of narrow halls and skinny corridors. The bustling of the maids in the social room grows quieter and quieter, until I wonder if we're so deep in the palace that even a scream couldn't be heard from the bedrooms. There are less lights to illuminate the path and the temperature drops, giving me an eerie feeling. But I'm with Leon, so all should be fine.