Groom Wars

52. A Stupid Fight

Due to the fall of the Dryads, Cadmus now slept in the bunk above Steven. He didn't entirely trust Steven. The young man, at this point, was known to be two-faced, backstabbing people as he saw fit, but even so, Steven managed to keep a small, dwindling number of loyal people close to him. Across from them, Adriel and Leandro slept on different bunks.

Cadmus listened to the light tread of someone approaching him and turned his head toward the sound. Leandro appeared near Cadmus' bed and tapped his shoulder. "Come," said the young man.

Curious about what Leandro had to say, Cadmus threw himself over the side of the bed and landed gently on the ground with a soft thud. While Leandro watched, Cadmus pushed his feet into his shoes, then the two went out into the hall.

Silently, Cadmus followed Leandro into the washroom. It was after midnight, and the place was empty. Some of the changing stalls' curtains were drawn open, displaying empty ribcages, shelves, and benches with nothing to fill them. No maids were present. It was quiet, asides from their breathing and steps. Leandro stopped walking and spun to face Cadmus; fine blonde braids framed Leandro's chiseled face. The overhead lights painted him in a harsh glow. Stubble lined his jaw. Leandro's eyes were red from lack of sleep. He said, "What game are you playing?"

"Groom Wars, the same as you. Why?"

Leandro groaned, then spoke through gritted teeth. "What game are you playing with Adriel?"

Cadmus paused; the question wasn't different from the last. So, he repeated, "Groom Wars. What other game is there?"

"Are you dumb or fucking with me?"

"Why would I mess with you?"

"You openly betrayed me."

"I don't recall betraying you."

"Bullshit. I trusted you with Adriel, going so far as asking you to protect him in my absence, and you betrayed my trust. You put your hand on his waist and embraced him. Whispered sweetly into his fucking ear. You insinuated, right in front of me, that you want more than friendship from him, knowing full well that I've laid claim to him."

"You've called me out here because I gave a friend of mine a single-armed hug while he was stressed? That makes me a bad person? Is that what you're trying to say? You are insane. Is Adriel your property? I wasn't aware of that fact, but if that is what he is to you, then I apologize for my intrusion—if that is the case. However, I don't think Adriel would like to be referred to as someone's property, so I don't apologize for being what I think is a good friend."

Silence.

After a moment's repose, Leandro said, "Don't put it in such crude terms. He's not my property, but his heart is mine or will be mine. I'm asking you, kindly, to respect my wishes and not touch him; do not reveal your affection to him, and do not confuse him."

Cadmus took a step closer to Leandro and uttered, "I have known him longer than you have."

"And?"

"I have every right to be his friend; I know him better than you do. I don't need your permission to do anything."

In the silence that followed, the two boys studied each, arms tense and ready to swing. Fingers curled into tight fists. How they had gotten to this point, Cadmus wasn't sure, but he didn't feel like surrendering. Something about Leandro struck him as manipulative and conceited, and Cadmus hated that Adriel had fallen for someone so twisted. Maybe it would be better if Cadmus got rid of him.

Leandro crossed the distance between them and, without warning, raised his fist and clocked Cadmus in the right eye. Cadmus' eye socket throbbed, and his eyelids felt heavy. A burning sensation covered his skin. Cadmus stumbled back, holding his head. Then, straightening his spine, he scowled at Leandro.

This would not be a quick, easy fight for either of them.

In high school, various boys had picked on Cadmus for being odd and narcissistic, and he had fought them. One day they had beaten him up so severely he had spent a few weeks in the hospital without his parents knowing; he had gone back to school after healing and sat in his chair with his books and pencils, taking notes as if nothing had happened. The fights would have continued if an older kid at school that others respected, a marquess and close relative to the king, hadn't told the kids to stop. But even in the ensuing peace, Cadmus had retained the skills he had learned from those tense episodes.

Cadmus studied Leandro and, seeing and opening, kicked the boy's chest. Leandro released a muffled groan and slid back, putting distance between them. Then, gritting their teeth, the boys bobbed and weaved, barely dodging jabs, crosses, and accurately timed kicks. After a feigned kick, Cadmus' fist pummelled Leandro's stomach. Spit flew out Leandro's mouth as he doubled over. Light glinted off Leandro's glossy eyes as he became serious.

Leandro's fist pounded Cadmus' guard; Cadmus' injured eye was swollen shut, and Cadmus struggled to cope with his one good eye. Ignoring aching ribs, Cadmus ducked, grabbed Leandro's waist, and threw him off balance. The boys tumbled to the floor. Leandro's back struck the tile, and his eyes rolled back. A guttural groan left his throat. Cadmus, taking advantage of the disoriented Leandro, got on top of the man and gave Leandro a shiner as painful as the one had received.

"Stop!" Standing in the doorway was the show's executive producer. Next to her was Mike, who had a guilty expression on his face and had probably snitched. Ducking, Mike walked away from the room and retreated into the hall. Cara said, "You will untangle yourselves and come with me. Now! I did not expect this from either of you."

Leandro turned his head, spat a mixture of blood and saliva on the tile, then stared accusingly at Cadmus as if to say he had started it. Cadmus ignored the temptation to punch him again.

***