Rook {B.B} (3)

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Watch The Thrones (4,3)

The crowd was restless as Tyra followed Titus into the main stand where the representatives for each clan were sat, the seat of the Commander being filled by Titus while Queen Nia, the challenger, sat proudly by his side.

Tyra, having only been the guard with no actual title that would honour her a seat, had to remain standing along the other guards. Sadly hidden behind Titus' massive seat.

"Tyra, your face has been missed around Polis." She didn't need to be an expert in speech or social interaction to recognize the smugness that laced Nia's voice as she spoke, even the sinister smile on her face spoke volumes that Tyra wished she could wipe off with a simple cut.

But she would not disgrace her position with such a crude action that would achieve nothing in the end. Tyra would much rather see Nia's smug smirk fall off once she saw Lexa win, after all, she did tend to underestimate the young Commander.

Tyra nodded, a mock bow to the the elder woman. "Queen Nia." She nodded toward her scarred guard as well, but received nothing but a scowl in return. Loyal to the bone to Nia, never a good sign in a person.

"This is Ontari, I don't suppose you've met. She will be the one you bow down to once your Commander dies to Roan's hands."

It was no new gossip Nia wasn't fond of her son, going as far as to never refer to him as such and constantly making an effort to diminish his authority even further. Ontari appeared to be Nia's pride and joy in the end, not even her own blood.

Tyra suspected she was the Natblida Lexa had mentioned, it was after all a smart move to keep your assets close, even when out in the open.

"Let me offer you my condolences, Queen Nia."

"What for?"

"The loss of your son."

Before Nia could retort or even call Tyra an insolent child, Titus rose from his seat, moving his hands around until the surrounding murmuring crowd quieted, all attention going to the two fighters standing side by side in the centre of the stage.

"In single combat, there is but one rule... someone must die today!" The surrounding bloodthirsty crowd cheered with anticipation.

Out in the corner of her eye, Tyra spotted the aspiring Natblidas watching curiously from the side, Aden at the front. She did suppose the entire population of Polis had arranged their schedules to witness the fight, but having Aden exposed out in the open when Nia could be planning an alternate game surrounding the favoured Natblida was never a good sign. Tyra made sure to keep him in her sight at all times.

"You may begin." Roan didn't hesitate to go for his sword, the crowd roaring as he twisted and twirled the blade while approaching the centre of the makeshift ring.

Meanwhile, Lexa went to retrieve her own sword, or better yet, Tyra's. Only she faltered in her last step, seemingly conversing with someone out in the crowd, only Tyra was at the wrong angle to view exactly who it was.

Though in the end, Lexa did retrieve the sword, the blade acting like an extension of her arm, used to the design and angles. The only difference being the additional weight and range in Tyra's twin blade, though in a fight with Roan, who she would not wish to be in close combat, the range seemed like an added advantage Lexa would fully take use of.

The crowd gasped as they saw Roan attempt at rushing Lexa from behind, but before he could even hit her she suddenly turned on her heel, deflecting the hit before she slashed upwards, gaining the first hit in the fight.