The door whizzed shut, leaving a cold layer of steel between me and whatever carnage was about to befall Eunice and Aldren. I thought the weight might slip away when I left the room behind, but it was still there as Oren led me down the hall. Like someone had draped a sopping wet blanket over my shoulders.

  Did Eunice really deserve to die? Aldren was one thing; I’d only ever known his cruelty, but Eunice? The last thing she said replayed in my mind, something about wanting to keep her family safe.

  “Eunice,” I said, turning to look at Oren as he ushered me inside a room at the end of the hallway, “will Lord Caelan... will he kill her?”

  “Aye, e’ might. Never known the young lord tae take kindly tae traitors.” His eyes were glassy, the light in them struggling to stay afloat. Like pools of water with a pair of candles swaying on the surface. It made me want to ask how he felt about her dying but before I could, he pointed to a set of clothes inside the room. “I’ll be right outside. Go on and get dressed, I’m sure the lord will want tae talk tae ye’ before we leave.”

  He slid the door closed behind him, leaving me to stare at the neat pile of garments on the bed. The thought of wearing actual clothes helped me shove aside my gloom as I shuffled towards them.

  What kind of fabric is this? I asked Belial, feeling it tingle in my hands as I unfurled the first piece of clothing. I shook it out, realizing it was meant to cover my entire body.

  “How would I know? What am I some kind of fashionista?”

  Fashionista? I asked, scowling at the lack of help. Wait. Where have I heard that before?

  “You haven’t, I just added it to your mind.”

  What? You can do that? A shudder ran the length of my body as I imagined tentacles worming through my brain.

  “Ugh. Not like that. There aren’t any tentacles. By the way, you’re welcome for teaching you the concept of tentacles.”

  I froze in amazement, clutching the bodysuit against my chest. Why haven’t you done this before?

  “I have been. It takes forever. I have to move your neurotransmitters along your synapses in the same pattern hundreds of times for each word.”

  Huh?

  “Ah, sorry, you don’t know some of those yet. Anyways, since the network is down here, I figured I may as well. As for the clothes, you’re on your own.”

  Wait. If it takes so long why did you waste time putting the word fashionista in my head?

  “So, my joke would land, obviously. Now leave me alone, I’m trying to work.”

  Scoffing and rolling my eyes, I held the suit up, trying to determine how to put it on. It took me a moment to find the zipper running along one side. Peeling away the pale-green strips from the tank, I forced my arms and legs into the suit, puzzling at all the extra fabric. I flapped my arms, realizing it was far too loose to be practical.

  Did they not have one my size-

  The air burst out of my lungs, lurching me forward as the suit constricted violently. I stumbled, wheezing to one knee before the material finally relaxed into something…strangely comfortable. I’d expected it to be clammy and awkward like the suit I’d worn in the garden, instead it felt light and cool against my skin, like being wrapped in a gentle breeze.

  “Ye’ alright in there?” Oren shouted through the door.

  “Y-yes,” I managed, eying the other items on the bed uneasily as I stood, “fine.”

  The second article was some kind of mesh made from tiny interlocking rings of steel. I held my breath, praying it wouldn’t kill me as I slipped it over my head, pushing both arms through the sleeves. Thankfully it did nothing, other than jingle softly as I moved to the last item on the bed. My dress. Somehow it fit perfectly over everything else. I slipped it on, tightening the leather drawstrings on each side.

  A knock sounded on the door before it slid open to reveal Oren, his hands obstructing his face as he stepped inside. “Are ye’ decent?”

  “Seriously? Why wouldn’t you ask that before you walk inside?” I fumed, glaring at him. “Yes, I’m clothed.”

  “Sorry, we dinna have much time and the lord wants tae speak wit’ ye.”

  “Fine,” I snapped, rubbing the back of my neck as I wondered how many times I’d need to almost die to earn some rest. The tank definitely healed my wounds but I was still exhausted. My eyes lingered on the cot before I finally joined him in the hallway, still adjusting and smoothing out my dress as we walked.

  My forehead tightened, confused as I failed to find any rips or tears, even in places I was positive there should be. “Did someone mend my dress?”

  “Aye,” He hesitated. “Eunice did…before we left.”

  I ran my fingers over the fabric, frowning as all my reservations resurfaced. “Was she telling the truth? Did Aldren really have her family?”

  “Aye.” Oren answered, lowering his gaze. “The duke does, her brother and father are servin’ on his ship.”

  I halted mid stride, mouth hanging open as Oren swung around to look at me. “Would they have killed them if she didn’t do what they asked?”

  “Probably,” Oren answered.

  “And Lord Caelan’s just going to kill her? H-he can’t.”

  His shadow loomed over me; a frame made even more imposing by the armor he wore as he blocked half the light in the corridor. “He can. I ken yer new tae this world but she was plannin’ tae watch ye’ die.”

  “She had no choice…she…her family…what would you have done?” I demanded, balling my fists. “Just let them die?”

  Oren’s lips parted and shut, his brow knitting more tightly with each attempt to speak. His hesitation was all I needed to convince myself I was right as I ducked his arm.

  “Aine…” Belial uttered, drawing out my name like he was scolding a pet. “What are you doing?”

  Oren let out a grunt as I pushed past him, sprinting down the hallway.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “NO. NONONO. You are not saving that…that HUSSY.”

  The door whizzed aside as I stormed in, instinctively shielding my eyes from where I expected to see Aldren being sawed into pieces. Instead, he and Eunice lay peacefully on a pair of metal tables at the center of the room.

  “STOP,” I cried out, the room’s lights smearing into a blur of tears. Corin and Lucian both turned to face me, confused at my outburst.

  My heart sank as I saw Eunice’s face. It was cold, all the color in her cheeks muted and greyed.

  I’m too late. I fell to my knees just as Oren burst through the door behind me. I barely registered his hands as he knelt to help me up, panting as he spoke.

  “Ye’ got faster.” he muttered, looking from me to Lord Caelan as he helped me stand. I ignored him, pulling free of his grip.

  “Is she...dead?” I asked, moving closer to the bodies on display.

  Lord Caelan folded his arms, letting out a breath before he spoke. “We don’t have time for this. The reason I—”

  “Why?” I asked, the word scraping out in a pained whisper. I stood inches from his face, eyes locked with his as I accused him with my stare. “How could you? You knew…you knew she only did it to keep her family safe.” My hands trembled as he rolled his eyes, giving me a look that made me consider punching him. I lifted my chin.

  “Do not punch-”

  I slapped him instead, surprised he hadn’t dodged when my palm smacked into his face. He stumbled back a step; head still turned to one side as an outraged noise escaped him.

  “Why do I even bother…”

  An instrument Corin was holding clattered to the floor as Oren rushed to stand between Lord Caelan and I, holding his arms between us.

  “She isn’t dead.” Lord Caelan hissed, teeth clenched as he nursed his jaw.

  “She’s not?”

  “NO. Corin is removing anything that could allow my father to track her.” He seethed, shaking his head. “Otherwise, he’ll assume she’s betrayed him and execute her family.”

  “Oh,” I mumbled, staring blankly at the floor. The hand I’d used to slap him still tingled as I stood there awkwardly.

  Corin hunched over the table, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress a laugh.

  “Yes, ha ha. Get it all out.” He shot at Corin before turning back to me. He must’ve noticed me staring at Aldren because he threw up his arms. “What, did you want me to spare the old man too?”

  “No,” I said, annoyed and still slightly embarrassed.

  “Good, because he is dead. Now if there are no more conscientious objections, we need to get you to the tournament in less than an hour.”

  “An hour?” I blinked, only half listening as Corin slid her arms under Eunice, who still seemed unconscious. Gently, she lifted her from the table, laying her inside the same pod I’d been trapped in earlier. I watched as it filled with that strange amber liquid, knowing If Eunice’s experience in there was as uncomfortable as mine, I’d consider that punishment enough for betraying me.

  “Yes, an hour.” Lord Caelan said, clapping once to draw my attention. “Unless you’d rather stay and watch Corin peel away Aldren’s skin.”

  “I thought I still had a day?”

  “You have a day before the games begin, that’s not the clock we’re up against.” He gestured to Aldren’s corpse on the table. “After Corin here ended Aldren’s life she noticed a repeating transmission…” I gave a puzzled look at the last word, causing him to trail off. “Why am I trying to explain this to you. You’re just going to have to trust me–”

  “No.” I said, face burning at his attempt to treat me like an idiot, “I don’t have to trust you. I almost got eaten by a…a…”

  “Lobster.”

  “A fucking lobster on the way here!” I shouted, flinging my arms wide. “You used me as bait without even bothering to tell me, and all of that,” My voice rose another octave as he stood there, lips pressed into a thin line, “was just to make sure your other stupid plan to make me fight and probably die in some tournament doesn’t fall apart. So no, nothing you have done has shown that I should trust you.”

  “Was that wise?”

  I don’t care. I shot back, still panting as Corin whistled. I could tell she was fending off a smile as she stepped back from her work, awkwardly eyeing the floor.

  “Fine.” He said, exhaling slowly through the nose. “Imagine Aldren had a friend on his shoulder shouting ‘Aldren is alive’ every hour, and another friend out there listening for that friend.”

  “As soon as he entered this room, those shouts stopped.” Corin added, picking the instrument she’d dropped earlier off the floor.

  I nodded, not finding it complicated at all. “So, some other friend is probably wondering why he hasn’t been receiving any transmissions.”

  “They would if Aldren had any friends, but no, in this case the intended recipient was my father.”

  “I thought Aldren said your father was a day away.” I said, eyes narrowing as I remembered Aldren’s earlier rant.

  “He is, which means that transmission will take about 45 minutes to reach him…and it failed to send...” He checked a counter on his wrist, “the moment he walked inside, 89 minutes ago.”

  “So, he’ll know Aldren is dead in,” I resisted the urge to count on my hands. I’d always been good with time, and I felt like I needed to make a point that I wasn’t stupid, “14 minutes.”

  “Exactly, and when he realizes his proxy is dead, he’ll immediately send another transmission to the Trust to freeze all his assets.” He paused, studying my face to make sure I understood. “The Trust is a bank, and assets are-”

  “I get it,” I shot, annoyed. “Less than an hour.”

  “59 minutes, and for us to bet on you; you’ll need be registered and in the waiting area for the tournament.”

  “Wouldn’t he have already frozen these assets or whatever the second he found out about me?”

  “Mine, yes. Not his. That would cause too big of a stir at the Trust, and aside from that he doesn’t know about Corin, or her ability to disguise herself as others. There’s no way he’d anticipate us using Aldren like this.”

  I swallowed hard, smoothing out my dress as I realized how close the tournament was. In less than a day, I’d be trapped inside some tower, fighting for my life. Do you think we could escape from this…waiting area?

  “It isn’t likely…but it’s even less likely we can escape here.”

  We’re out of time. Did you figure out my collar?

  “I’m try-ing.” Belial grumbled.

  “My hammer,” I said, knowing I’d likely need it if I did see a chance to escape. “Won’t I need it…for the tournament?”

  “You won’t, not until the tournament starts, and I asked Corin to make some modifications to it.”

  “You didn’t think to ask me? I asked, glaring at Lord Caelan. “I'm the one that's going to be using it.” His hand smacked against the metal table as he opened his mouth to say something.

  “Don’t worry,” Corin cut in, “I’m just going to add some features that might help you survive in there.” She added, sounding sincere. “But Lucian isn’t lying, we’re cutting this very close.” She hovered over Aldren’s body again, giving me an impatient look as the strange implement from earlier extended from her palm. It was obvious she wanted to get to work, and my presence was holding her up.

  “Okay,” I sighed, turning back to Lord Caelan. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Oren will take you to the Arena now, and Corin and I will join you once the wager is placed.” He said, taking a step forward and extending his hand. “Before you go, I need that ring you’re wearing.”

  “Here,” I said, eying his brother’s severed hand as I offered him my own. It still rested in a tray on the table, looking bloodless and pale. Lord Caelan's frowned, confirming my theory that it needed to be given willingly. I wondered how that worked, and what would happen if he just ripped it off my hand.

  “I think you know I can’t take it from you.” He said, annoyed. “Now if you’re done, I need that to place our wager, you know, the one that’ll keep my father from killing us all.”

  “No,” I said, matching his impatience with some of my own. “I’m not done. There’s one more thing that doesn’t make sense.”

  “You know I could just have Corin cut off your finger.” He threatened, annoyed.

  “Just answer her question, Lucian.” Corin said, flashing me an apologetic look as she donned a see-through visor and began to cut along Aldren’s sternum. I averted my eyes just as blood splattered over the plastic covering her face. “Sorry,” She said, focused on her work as I grimaced at the sound of buzzing against bone, “I don’t have time to wait.”

  “If you’re doing this for money,” I started, cringing and taking a step back as I did my best to ignore wet, grinding noises to my left, “why do you need me to win the tournament? Can’t you just keep your father’s money and not gamble it?”

  “I could.” he sighed, drumming his fingers against the metal table, “but then he would just take it back and kill me. You might’ve noticed my father’s offspring don’t have many rights. He could drain my accounts at any time…but if the moneys with the bookmaker...”

  “Okay...but if I win, what’s to stop him from just...taking all the money you earned off me anyways?”

  “The title I’ll be awarded as your patron, a title my father can’t strip away. You see, this is just as much about my freedom as it is yours. Now please, the ring.” He stared expectantly as he held out his hand. After hesitating a moment longer, I finally slid the ring off, meeting his eyes as I handed it over. “Thank you,” he said, a weary expression on his face as he put the ring on. “We’ll have a chance to speak again before the games, until then Oren will try to prepare you the best he can.”

  Special thanks to who's review inspired the fashionista scene between Aine and Belial in this chapter.