Rise of a Fallen Man (A Look in the Mirror #2)

Chapter 7

Ari

T he gate in the high fence surrounding the grounds of the gladiators’ quarters wasn’t guarded from the outside, but it was closed and locked from the inside. The gladiators weren’t slaves and could come and go as they pleased. But the games master strived to keep their training routine a secret from the public.

A servant opened the gate for us as Gem and I exited the carriage.

“The boys are receiving the ladies inside tonight,” he said. “It looks like it may be raining soon.”

He led us to the building that surrounded the courtyard from three sides with the main entrance in the middle. From the spacious front hall, tall double doors opened into a wide room with a vaulted ceiling.

Many gladiators and several court ladies already gathered here. Some filled their plates with food from the round tables on the left. Others sat around the game tables that were covered with green and had cards or game pieces laid out. Some of the men and women had already broken into pairs and occupied the cushy chairs and couches arranged around the large fireplace in the middle.

Four servants carried trays with finger food, offering it to the ladies. Two more servants weaved between the guests, refilling their wine glasses.

The games master rushed to us.

“Princess Aniri! Lady Chamberlain! It’s an honor to see you at our small soiree.” She gave me a deep bow. “It’s such a rare treat to welcome you into our humble quarters, Your Highness.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” I replied mechanically, searching through the people in the room with my gaze.

Salas wasn’t here. The tight string of worry inside me vibrated more urgently. I had to know how he was. I needed to see him.

Falo rose from one of the couches and sauntered to us. After a polite but brief greeting to me, he grinned at Gem.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Lady Chamberlain.” He took her hand in both of his. “I have your favorite tea served already.” He gestured at the low table set with tea by the couch.

“Aww, aren’t you the sweetest?” she cooed, letting him whisk her over to the couch and leaving me with the games master.

“The show was great today,” I said, clearing my throat.

The games master’s smile grew wider.

“Thank you, Your Highness. We do our best every week. But today was special. The crowd simply went wild with delight. It’s so rewarding when that happens.”

I could no longer put off the one and only thing I’d come here for.

“Master, how are the gladiators doing after today’s games?”

“Oh, everyone is fine,” she assured me confidently. “My boys are highly trained. They’re used to pulling off miracles in the arena and escaping the most dangerous situations unscathed.”

The image of blood dripping down Salas’s arm was too vivid in my mind to believe her reassurances.

I couldn’t keep beating around the bush anymore and asked directly, “The new gladiator got hurt today. How is he?”

“You mean our wild Mountain Bear? Oh, it was just a scratch,” she dismissed with a sly smile. “Nothing that small could bring that beast down. Trust me.”

The only thing I’d trust right now would be seeing Salas alive and well.

“Why is he not here tonight, then?”

“Right.” She twirled between her fingers the fringed end of the scarf tied around her head. “He’s with our healing witch. We treat even minor injuries with the utmost care.”

That felt reassuring. At least Salas was getting the care he needed.

“Did you plan for the bear to attack him today?” I asked. “Was it in the script?”

The games master huffed in offense.

“We don’t have a script, Your Highness. Everything that happens in the arena is genuine and spontaneous.” She winked at me. “That’s how I always answer these kinds of questions. Why strip magic from the show that so many people enjoy?”

“All right, but that gladiator—”

She glanced behind me. “And there he is. The man of the hour!”

I spun around to find Salas standing in the doorway. He was still wearing his costume, only his helmet was gone, and instead of the bear hide, a hunter-green dressing robe was draped over his wide shoulders. His arms weren’t in the robe’s sleeves. A thick white bandage on his left arm peeked from under the jacquard fabric of the robe.

His eyes found mine.

And time froze.

Here, outside of the arena, he no longer appeared like a feral beast or a stranger. He looked like the Salas I knew. Directed at me, his brown eyes filled with the familiar warmth—the expression I’d grown to like so much. A gentle smile played on his lips, partially hidden in the deliberately disheveled beard.

Relief flooded me in a tingling wave. They hadn’t changed him. He was still him.

But he was hurt. And all because of me. I’d forced this on him. Once again, I’d stuck my nose into his life uninvited.

The games master spoke, popping the hazy bubble I’d found myself trapped in with Salas. “Her Highness kindly expressed concern for your well-being, Raeb.”

Raeb? He’d changed his name? It made sense. A gladiator was in the public eye far more often than a humble slave. A new name reduced the risk of someone from his past recognizing him.

“Her Highness is very kind.” He bowed his head.

His deep, rich voice descended into my chest with resonance throughout my entire being.

With all eyes on us now, I did my best to school my expression into something expected from a princess when meeting a stranger. Because in the eyes of everyone here, other than Gem, Salas was a complete stranger to me.

“I trust you’re feeling well?” My voice came out a little rough, despite my best efforts.

“Yes,” he matched my politely detached tone. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“And the bear?”

“The bear?” His eyebrows rose in question.

“The bear is fine,” the games master chimed in. She then lowered her voice, speaking in an exaggerated whisper while hiding her mouth from the rest of the room behind her hand. “But please, let’s let the public believe that our Mountain Bear is capable of killing wild beasts with his bare hands. It adds thrill and enjoyment to people’s experience. After all, they’re paying the admission price, fully expecting to be deceived by the magic of the show.”

I nodded. “I believe your Mountain Bear is capable of squeezing the life out of any wild beast if he wanted to.”

“That he is.” The games master slid an appreciative glance down her newest gladiator’s powerful body. “He sure knows how to give bear hugs!” She laughed, slapping him on his healthy arm.

And now I was staring at his arms, too, remembering how good it felt to be inside his “bear hugs.” A swell of warmth washed over me with the memories, heating my face with blush.

The games master tipped her chin at the bandage on Salas’s arm. “The healing witch has sewn you back up, I see.”

“Yes. She did a great job.” He moved his left shoulder. “It almost feels fully healed already.”

I doubted it felt “fully healed.” No witch was that good. But the royal gladiators had access to the services of the most skilled healing professionals in the country. At least Salas was in good hands.

“Our witches are beyond comparison,” the games master boasted. “Her Majesty, Queen Anna, even allows us the use of her personal healing witch whenever needed.” She slid her arm under mine, gently but persistently leading me to the nearest couch. “It’s so kind of you to show concern for one of my boys, Your Highness. I know you don’t come here very often, and I highly appreciate your visit, but I assure you there is no need to worry. All my men and all our animals are absolutely fine.”

I allowed her to sit me on the couch, the skin on my back prickling with the awareness of Salas’s gaze on me.

The games master grabbed a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant.

“Have a seat and enjoy the evening, Your Highness,” she murmured.

It was hard not to admire this woman’s dedication to the games. I believed she genuinely cared about her men, too, since they were what made the games possible in the first place. Salas was taken care of. He looked well and smiled. There was no reason for me to linger around any longer.

Yet there I was, sitting on the couch, sipping the expensive wine that was undoubtedly a gift from one of the lady patrons. The crown provided the gladiators with everything they needed. But the court ladies supplied them with the luxury items beyond that, such as expensive cigars, fine wine, jewelry, and imported silks.

“May I suggest a handsome boy to keep you company, Your Highness?” the games master offered. “Sadly, our Mountain Bear is unavailable for another week. Rules are rules. But anyone else of my boys will be honored to spend the evening with you.”

The sensation of Salas’s gaze zapped through me like lightning. Sitting with my back to him, I couldn’t see him, but I felt his presence with my skin. It was a special kind of torture to have him so close to me, yet being unable to say a single unguarded word to each other.

“Well, I...” I drained the rest of my wine in one not lady-like gulp, then set the glass down on the side table. I had to get out of here. I needed to leave. “Where is the ladies’ room, please?”

If the games master hadn’t thought of me as flaky and irrational after my last visit here that ended in a panicked escape, she surely did now. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I had to get away from the man I shouldn’t want. I felt him in every particle of the air I breathed. I tasted him in the wine I drank. I wanted him here on the couch with me, or better yet, back in my bed where I could be myself again.

Only with Salas I felt safe to be myself.

“I’ll be right back,” I promised, knowing damn well I would not keep this promise.

Once again, I was fleeing the gladiators’ party, feeling weak and defeated, but I had to put an end to this insanity.

The games master got up with me. “Allow me to escort you, Your Highness.”

I kept my head straight as she led me out of the room. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Salas conversing with Naeco, the games choreographer, and another gladiator. Absorbed in their conversation, he didn’t appear to notice my leaving, which was for the best. I didn’t think I could manage to say goodbye without making it obvious how hard parting from him always was for me.

With the games master escorting me, I had to at least pretend I needed to visit the bathroom before leaving the gladiators’ quarters. I followed her down the main hallway to where it turned into the left wing. The bathroom was a spacious room decorated with flowery wallpaper, upholstered furniture in gilded frames, and a marble sink next to a long vanity with a large mirror.

“Let me know if you need anything at all.” With these words, the games master departed, finally leaving me alone.

I turned on the polished brass faucet, took my glasses off, and splashed the cool water on my face.

He shouldn’t have this effect on me. Not anymore. Not now. I had my future laid out for me, and Salas couldn’t be a part of it. His life was safer without me too.

Except that everything inside me ached for him.

When coming to the gladiators’ quarters, I just hoped to make sure he was okay. But seeing him this close again was like all those weeks without him hadn’t happened. Like I had every right to touch him again. To kiss him. To be with him.

My face in the mirror looked flushed. My eyes glistened as if ready to cry. How could I go back to that room now? How could I face them? Or him? I couldn’t even say goodbye.

I had to leave.

I’d arrange for generous gifts to be sent to the games master later, as an excuse for yet another lame escape.

I turned the faucet off, wiped my face and hands dry, put my glasses back on, and left the bathroom. As a civilized adult, I should at least let Gem know that I was leaving and taking her carriage, that I’d send it back for her later, but the sound of the door opening and closing came from the central wing, and I realized I wasn’t ready to face anyone right now, not even a servant to send the message to Gem.

The world inside me felt like a ravaged land after a hurricane. I needed a moment to compose myself, at least enough for my hands to stop shaking and my heart to slow down a bit.

The left-wing hall ended with a large stained-glass window with partially opened curtains and a window seat. I hurried to the window, climbed with my knees onto the seat, and pressed my feverish forehead to the cool glass, hiding in the shadows of the curtains.

Heavy droplets of rain hit the glass, then rolled down, leaving behind trails like streams of tears. I desperately searched for peace inside me, and couldn’t find it.