Chapter 48 The VIP Box, Eve
THE VIP BOX, EVE
The VIP box is nothing like I imagined. I stupidly thought I would be tucked away somewhere shadowed, barely noticed.
Instead, I’m seated on display beside Tribune Jin Kol, with Rafe to my right.
Lorian has a seat behind us, but he rarely stays for a whole session; he told me last night, it’s because he’s busy with security.
And all around us are rows of Imperials pressing in from every direction.
I’ve never seen so many Imperials before.
They are unnerving because they look so much like humans.
The only difference is the grey tint of their skin.
Black hair, silver or green eyes, with bodies that could walk down any street on Earth without anyone realizing what they are.
That similarity is what horrifies me the most. They’ve made my people into pets, and yet they look like cousins, uncles, neighbors with just a grey tint.
Jin Kol leans toward me. “You seem unsettled today, Eve.”
How can I not be? Below us, the arena floor has been continuously shifting its holographic landscapes to create cruel and brutal obstacles for the human competitors while thousands of Imperials cheer.
“I’m just a little tired,” I say.
But my attention is drawn back to the arena as the crowd erupts as a trainer urges his human forward with a whip. My nails are digging crescents into my palms as I watch. It’s disgusting, and I hate myself for being here like this.
When it becomes unbearable, I look away, and my eyes find Rafe turning his ring.
Then, I look around the VIP box and figure out why.
Not only is he worried about Jin Kol, but also the others here.
These aren’t his people. They are his parents’ people.
The Grand Championships are marketed as a galactic event, but just like the Miss Universe Beauty Pageant on Earth has a limited following, only Imperials are really interested in watching this.
And in the middle of it all, I sit like an honored guest, and my throat hurts from the bile in it, because I am a willingly participant. The Devil’s handmaiden. Because I’m not only condoning this, I’m in love with the men who organized this monstrosity.
I think about the vile of poison in my pocket. I grabbed it in a moment of madness when I returned to my room briefly. But I can’t do it. I can’t kill them.
You might die here today, the Devil’s voice says in my head. If something happens to the Sovereigns because of Terra Ka, you will be blamed. Why not kill them yourself?
I tell the Devil, I’ll take my chances.
Because, the Sovereigns, my Sovereigns, love me and treat me well.
Better than anyone else here would, and I believe them when they say they want more for humanity than this.
They’ve employed me, and I don’t think it was their intention was to make me their lover or even companion all along.
Maybe Lorian’s, but certainly not Rafe’s, but we’ve become this.
And I love them and most importantly, my submission is my choice.
The humans competing in the Championships below, and all the humans who are owned in the galaxy, were never given a choice.
Now, we are in a strange triumvirate: Rafe, Lorian, and me. And just like Caesar’s alliance with Pompey and Crassus almost destroyed Rome, I can only hope that our lover’s alliance will lead to the destruction of the Grand Championships. I think we all want it.
But I don’t know if they know that I am playing my own game too. That while I give Terra Ka what they want me too, I’m also withholding details, to even the playing field.
But then I think, they must know. They watch everything. If they haven’t stopped me, it’s because they’re letting me do it. Letting me have my small little rebellion as a means to keep sane. How often have they called me their “little rebel?” That name didn’t appear out of thin air.
Rafe touches my hand, and I know it’s a reprimand for not watching the pets suffer on the arena floor.
I force myself to keep my eyes forward, not to show the revulsion that wants to twist my mouth when another Imperial laughs at a human pet’s stumble. Inside me, something hardens just a little more. I become less affected by what I’m seeing than I was just an hour before.
This is what Huck warned me about. This is why I have to keep helping Terra Ka too, because if I don’t, then I’m completely complicit in the Devil’s work.
Just another human dressed, playing a part, bowing to her masters, while humans die for sport.
Despite what Rafe and Lorian say, I’m still not completely convinced they want full equality for humanity.
What does this make me?
I hear Lira’s voice in my head. “That makes you a woman.”
I’m drawn out of my thoughts by the sound of the crowd below thundering through the glass as the arena shifts and a new horrific landscape shimmers into place for the human competitors to navigate.
I force myself to watch. Willing myself not to become used to these human tragedies before me.
Humans are running, stumbling, bleeding through terrain that isn’t real, yet every cut on their skin is real enough.
The holographs twist into memories of mothers, fathers, friends, and children.
I see a man halt mid-run because the projection shows his wife, bound and begging on her knees.
He doesn’t know if it’s really her, so he hesitates a second too long, and then the ground collapses under him.
The crowd roars as if it’s a fucking comedy.
I want to scream at them. To tell them humans aren’t stupid, but if he could be abducted from Earth and put into this Hell, then maybe his wife could have been abducted too.
Another challenge begins; this one is crueler. A woman, barefoot and with a torn costume, reaches the maze’s center. She stops and sees her daughter. A little girl not more than five years old standing in chains, arms outstretched, crying for her mother.
The woman falls to her knees, wailing in raw agony. “Baby—” The word is caught by the arena mics and echoed through the audience.
I can’t control myself. My vision blurs with tears.
My chest aches as I try to hold back my emotions.
I can barely breathe because it isn’t just her pain I see—it’s the possibility of mine.
What if I get pregnant? What if it’s Rafe’s child?
Lorian’s? Would they sell the baby if it looked too human?
It’s a selfish thought with everything I’m witnessing here, but still I can’t help but think it.
I feel Rafe’s eyes on me, and our eyes lock. He leans slightly closer, his voice pitched low so only I hear. “That will never be you.”
His words are precise and clipped, but there’s something behind them I’ve never heard from him before. A promise. His strong grey hand, large and controlled, settles briefly on mine, grounding me. Just long enough for me to know he means it. Then, he removes it, posture and mask restored.
Throughout the rest of this event, I casually look between him and Lorian. Neither of them laughs at the humans nor cheers with the others. They sit expressionless, going through the motions of power but untouched by the spectacle.
It should comfort me. But it doesn’t because of what I’ve seen.
If this is the galaxy, then Gael and Terra Ka are right in wanting humans to be free, even if their fates may appear worse.
The images Rafe showed me come unbidden to my mind, but those humans had a choice, didn’t they?
Here, these humans before me have no choice.
The Sovereigns can treat me with all the care they want, bind me in silks instead of chains, but it doesn’t matter.
I will still help Terra Ka. Because if the galaxy is going to change, it won’t happen from this box and only with me wooing Jin Kol.
The Sovereigns may want change, but their way will take too long.
The crowd surges as the woman in the arena collapses beside the child.
The hologram of the child fades, leaving her clutching nothing but air while the trap seals around her.
Her scream breaks my composure, and I shake with the effort of controlling my tears while all around me Imperials laugh harder.
I am in Hell. Surrounded by demons, and I can’t breathe; the air is so hot.
Rafe once again puts his hand over mine, and I hate that I want him to do it. He who has organized this horror show. But by the time he has removed it, I’m steadied.
I smooth my hands down the fabric of my uniform, press my nails into my palms until the urge to scream turns into a sharp pulse of pain. I force my face into calm. Professional and unmoved.
A server passes, offering me a crystal glass filled with something luminous and gold. My fingers are steady when I take it. My smile is polite when I incline my head. I even manage to sip it without spilling.
From the outside, I am Eve Eden, professional liaison, perfectly controlled. Inside, I’m scheming about how I can do more.
Do I kill my beloved Sovereigns?
Would that make any difference?
Would it be better if we all three died?
I don’t know anymore. Watching this makes apart of me want to die and take them with me.
When the challenge ends, the box hums with satisfaction. Credits exchange hands with quiet gestures, jeweled cuffs flashing as wagers are settled. There will be a break now before the next event.
I stand when the rest of the VIPs do. My smile is small but polite, the same one I used back at Terra Sanctum when guests complained about champagne temperatures or room sizes.
The glass doors hiss open. A corridor stretches before us, its walls pulsing with faint silver light. I fall into step with Tribune Jin Kol and the Sovereigns, listening to the rise and fall of their male voices around me, nodding at every bow directed our way.