CHAPTER SIX #3
The tables surrounding us are silent, the gladians watching my every move. I’m unlucky enough to glimpse the contents of several gladians’ mouths as they drop open midchew, their eyes widening as they watch us.
The man across from me removes his helmet from the table to give me more room for my tray. Amusement flashes in his eyes as he glances between me and the Primus. He’s a handsome bastard, with dark brown skin, sharp cheekbones, and eyes the same color as his bronze sigil.
Controlling my anger, I place my tray on the table and drop into the chair.
The Primus sits down and leans back in his chair. “You shouldn’t be here. So I’m going to make your life miserable until you leave.”
Simple words, and yet it takes a moment for them to sink in.
“Why?”
A woman sitting at the other end of the table lets out a quiet snort.
The Primus gives her a warning look, but she merely raises one eyebrow, pushing back several tight black curls that have fallen free from her braid.
Her gold sigil is almost half-crowned, and it contrasts sharply with her dark skin.
I reach for my cup. Casting a longing look toward the small tables near the front of the dining hall, I find Maeva standing near the food line, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
What is happening? she mouths, and I shrug.
The dining hall is still quiet, people speaking in hushed whispers as they stare at our table. The absurdity of it hits me like a slap. The emperor’s son brutally murdered a man in front of all of us this morning, and yet my seating arrangement for lunch has caused far more shock and horror.
“Eat,” the Primus orders, and I find him watching me.
Of course, he still hasn’t removed his helmet, but I can practically feel his gaze burrowing into me.
I take a bite of my chicken, which is probably delicious, even if it tastes like sand in my mouth.
“Not hungry?” I ask, waving my hand at the empty table in front of the Primus.
Across from me, the man with the bronze eyes flashes a grin. “The Primus has become weirdly attached to his helmet lately.”
“Careful, Micah,” the Primus rumbles.
I take another bite of food. Swallow.
“Facial disfigurement?” I wince. “That’s unfortunate.”
The Primus goes still, as if my audacity has shocked him.
Truthfully, it has shocked me.
Several of the other imperiums glance my way before looking at the Primus.
The woman down at the other end of the table opens her mouth to say something, but a man next to her grabs her gloved hand and squeezes.
“Why are you here?” the Primus asks.
Bran’s instructions weren’t difficult to memorize. After all, the best lies have a kernel of truth.
“I … I won the Sands in this district six years ago and I’ve wanted to enter the Sundering ever since,” I recite. “But I couldn’t afford to take the time away from my family. This year, I was lucky enough to be sponsored.”
According to the note Bran left me, it’s not uncommon for gladians to be sponsored.
It’s also not uncommon for those sponsors to be kept a secret.
Not only do sponsors receive a cut of a gladian’s winnings, if we survive the Sundering, they then have someone in the Praesidium Guard who has some measure of loyalty to them.
“Why did your sponsor not ensure you arrived two weeks ago?”
“I believe I was a last-minute addition. A bet between him and a friend.”
A beat of silence, and then the Primus shakes his head. “Every five days, the emperor takes appellations from the public,” he says in his rough growl. The injury that ruined his face must have also damaged his vocal cords.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will use the appellation process to appeal directly to the emperor. And you will beg him to allow you to leave.”
“No, I won’t.”
After today’s training session, I wish I could. But my brothers come first. And I have no doubt Bran will kill them without a second thought.
The Primus watches me. He’s really mastered the art of silent intimidation and I’m sure he knows just how unsettling it is not to be able to see his eyes.
“I saw you training today,” the woman says. “The Primus is right. You shouldn’t be here.”
Maybe they truly don’t know why I’m here. But if the Primus doesn’t know I’ve been sent to kill the emperor, this interest in my welfare is strange.
“Why do you care?”
“Your incompetence reflects on all of us,” the woman says.
Ouch. If I was truly here to succeed as a gladian, that would definitely sting.
“Enough, Neris,” the Primus says brusquely.
I stuff another bite into my mouth. I’m no longer hungry, but I need the fuel to get through the rest of the day.
The Primus casually reaches out and takes an apple from my tray. He doesn’t remove his helmet, merely holds the apple up as if he’s never seen one before.
“Everyone else here fits in,” he says. “They’ve trained for this. They want to be here. You haven’t, and you don’t. That makes you a mystery. And I’m very good at solving mysteries.”
My scalp prickles. I was stupid. So, so stupid to think I could come here, survive the arena three times, and then get through the predator sitting next to me to kill the emperor.
Evren’s face flashes before my eyes, his lips blue as he suffocates in front of me. Pushing my tray away, I get to my feet.
Everyone has a weakness. Even the vampire watching me so intently.
I just need to find his.