Chapter 31
GILDED?
AMARA
THE DOOR BURSTS open, and I suck in a breath as a guard marches towards me. I think it’s the same guard from earlier. Breather mask covering his face, humanoid shape, long sleeves, and gloves. Probably the same guy. Without a word, he grabs my upper arm and tugs me into motion.
Doors and empty hallways flash past my periphery as I’m dragged through the Coliseum at a pace I can hardly match. I try to remember the turns we’re taking, but the pain in my feet is too distracting.
So much for playing amateur cartographer. Sorry, Vexar. If we do have to bail before this is all over, I’m just gonna have to hope my way out of here.
A raised section of the floor catches the ball of my foot, and I stumble.
Pain radiates across my sole and up my calf.
The guard doesn’t slow down. Every step turns into a test of mind over body.
My feet throb. Each new bolt of pain makes me feel a little more helpless and a little more angry.
Eventually, that feeling grows past my ability to contain it.
I don’t like feeling helpless. I don’t do helpless.
Letting my rage take over, I sit back in my hips, using my bodyweight to pull against the guard’s grasp, forcing him to stop. My feet dig into the stone as his fingers dig into my arm. Blinding pain shoots through my body, but I don’t give a shit. Fuck him.
“Move,” he orders with a tug that almost knocks me over.
“Find me some shoes!”
He grunts and keeps pulling. My shoulder feels like it’s going to pop out of its socket. I bite back another expletive as my feet slide and a knife-like pain burns through my left heel. In that moment, my resistance slips, and with one hard pull, the guard gets me moving again.
“Move,” he says again.
My heart pounds as I prepare to unleash a volley of insults, but then we stop. I flinch, expecting the guard to strike me, but he just releases my arm. With caution, I open my eyes. The guard isn’t even looking at me. And there’s a door. I blink a few times. This must be our destination.
Standing still makes the pain in my feet worse, and I can’t resist checking the damage. I glance down and—
Fuck… My head drops as I stare at my bloodied feet.
At least I don’t have to worry about that mental map Vexar wanted me to keep. There’s a physical trail of my blood leading back to the bathroom. I rub my hands over my face in frustration.
Today’s going great. Really. Fucking. Great.
The sound of the door opening and the smell of food pull my attention up, and the room tilts on its axis.
The Magistrate.
I knew this was going to happen, but my body seizes up anyway. Black spots appear on the edge of my vision. My stomach churns, and sweat slicks my palms.
I’ve spent months imagining what I would do in this exact moment, and now that I’m here, I’m frozen.
Gaius’s lips curl in a menacing smile, and my stupor breaks. I recoil, only to be met by the unyielding frame of the guard behind me. My eyes search for something. Anything. A weapon, an escape route, I don’t know. I’m a wild animal caught in a trap.
“Amara,” Gaius purrs. My breath catches. He’s holding out a paunchy hand like he expects me to touch it. Bile rises in my throat. “Do not be rude. Take my hand,” he orders.
I’m shoved from behind and stumble through the door, unbalanced and unable to avoid the grasp of cold skin around my wrist. Vexar’s words echo in the back of my mind.
“He will want to know why you saved me. He will want to meet you. Use your time wisely.” Fighting every instinct I have, I let Gaius pull me towards a long table as a definitive ‘thunk’ marks the closing of the door behind me.
I can do this. I can do this.
“Sit,” Gaius says.
My legs shake as I collapse into the oversized chair. I feel like a child in a room built for giants. Everything’s too big. The massive table, the oversized trays of food, the vaulted ceilings, the tall windows that span the length of the wall, and the endless desert that stretches out beyond them.
I wipe my sweaty palms down my legs and stare at the monster that’s haunted my every waking moment for the past year.
I frown as my terror morphs into confusion.
The image I’ve built of Gaius is so different from reality.
He’s not large, or imposing, or scary at all.
Nothing like my memory. He’s about my height—maybe five feet seven inches?
He moves with a slow wobble, his cheeks are ruddy, and the horns I remember being intimidating now just look pathetic.
They remind me of Vexar’s horns, just a lot smaller, and … weirdly shiny?
I narrow my eyes and catch a flash of golden light as he settles in the chair at the far end of the table.
Oh my god. I have to press my lips together to hold back a laugh.
Did he gild his horns? He definitely gilded his horns.
Holy shit, how am I supposed to not make a joke about that?
This fucker gilded his horns. Oh god, it’s comedy gold.
If he were in grade school, he’d be ripped to shreds in seconds.
A sudden surge of glee hits me as I realize I’ll be able to share all of my bad jokes with Vexar tonight. I won’t be locked in a room by myself.
“I have good news, my dear Amara,” Gaius says.
“Vexar has agreed to be your champion!” He flourishes his hands wildly, as if he’s revealing some sort of prize, and my eyes go wide.
He’s like a bad TV show host. How in the hell was I ever scared of this guy?
Probably because he has the power to have me killed. Duh.
“Champion?” I ask.
“Indeed!”
I raise a brow, confused by his over-excited demeanor. “What does that mean?”
“He will fight, and if he wins, he will take ownership of you. Is that not grand?”
Be calm. Don’t let him get to you. Yeah, no. That’s not working. “Ownership?” I growl.
“He asked to take you back to Vhorath so you can stand trial for your crimes. A very noble gesture to be sure. And if he wins, your contract will be transferred to him.”
I swallow down my rage and remind myself that this was part of the plan. Right now, I need to be a gracious idiot, not a pissed off killer. I drop my eyes to the table like a fawning idiot and say, “Well, I guess that is good news.”
“Indeed.” He grins, and the tip of a sharp canine appears between his cracked lips.
A second later, my brain catches up. Holy shit, Gaius is Vhorathi.
I hadn’t even considered that he could be the same species as Vexar.
They’re so … different. Then again, there’s a pretty wide range of appearances in humans too.
He takes a swig from his goblet and wipes his mouth on his sleeve.
“Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting him to agree to the revised contract at all, but I suppose that is the folly of those who are more noble than intelligent. ”
This fucking asshole. ‘More noble than intelligent’? Really? With extreme effort, I keep my face calm, press my hands into my lap, and launch my first question. “Can I ask what would have happened if the gladiator didn’t volunteer to be my champion?”
To my surprise, Gaius doesn’t hold back.
He gives me an overly long explanation about the importance of law and order, maintaining balance in the galaxy, and the honor of a good death.
I listen carefully, nodding with interest, and smiling when appropriate.
My translator does a good enough job, but I make a point to look confused when he speaks in metaphors or uses more complicated terms.
Everything about Gaius screams insecurity, so I’m hoping Vexar’s right and my gracious-idiot performance will get him to open up.
So far, it seems to be working. Sure, he’s burying the truth beneath a layer of pageantry and virtue signaling, but the information’s still there.
He’s confirmed that he kills slaves in the arena—although he’s calling them “criminals”. Real slick.
“You see, the criminals are given a chance to earn their freedom back. Although it rarely works out that way.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially and leans forward. “You would be surprised by how many criminals walk these halls, undiscovered.” Then he shrugs. “Or maybe not.”
I pretend not to notice the dig. “Well, I feel like a very lucky girl.”
He smiles and gestures to the food. “Please, enjoy this meal. I had it prepared for you!”
There’s no way in hell I’m eating any of this, but I play along and randomly spoon things onto my plate.
The next few minutes flash by as I ask frivolous questions and pretend to be interested while pushing food around and shifting my throbbing feet on the floor. At least there’s tile in here, I guess.
To my surprise, Gaius hasn’t asked me a single question. Vexar was convinced he would be curious about me, but so far, he’s shown zero interest. Which is weird. If he didn’t bring me here to get information, what’s the point?
Then I remember he’s an egotistical psychopath.
Maybe I’m just a captive audience here to listen to him ramble.
It’s weird, but I’ve seen weirder. Once, I went on a date with a guy who would ask me questions, interrupt me mid-answer, and then answer the question himself.
Needless to say, that date didn’t last very long.
I prop my chin on my hand and lean forward.
“It sounds like running this place and keeping it staffed must be very taxing.” Vexar coached me on manipulation tactics earlier, and this was one of them.
He said you can get everything you need without ever asking a real question.
It makes sense. If you ask someone a question, they might get defensive.
If you make an incorrect claim, they’ll want to correct you.
And if you inflate their ego, they’ll probably elaborate.