Barracks (War of Hearts)

13- Fight

"I don't understand how this works. It looks silly to me," I confess, descending to the bottom row and taking a seat beside Melissa. Her eyes sparkle with anticipation for the spectacle to come, a stark contrast to my own apprehension. My thoughts are consumed by Tristan, about to face adversaries of formidable strength. The events of yesternight still linger in my mind.

The arena teems with spectators, eager to witness the Pro Amore tournament. Laughter, boisterous conversations, and flirtatious exchanges fill the air, drowning my words.

"Shh! Don't say that. It's tradition." Melissa takes offense at my confession. "Besides, wouldn't you like to see your man's strength and potential?" She muses, lost in a daydream.

I scrunch up my nose. Who would want to fight for me? It still seems absurd. "Are you sure he'll survive all those rounds?"

"He's a dhampyre and a knight. What else can you expect? Also, love is powerful."

"And what if he doesn't win?"

She bites her lip, likely hoping I'd hold my tongue. "He will."

Crossing my arms, I sit upright, my gaze falling on the crowd below. The competitors, both men and women, don helmets. Yet, even that doesn't prevent me from recognizing Himley and Aldaire. Each holds a wooden spade, awaiting the rest.

Leaning forward, anticipation courses through me. "How does this work?" I whisper eagerly. Wood is harmless.

"Simple," Melissa replies. "Keep the sword away from your head and chest. If it touches, you are out. The point is to eliminate the guest of honor."

"I think it sounds fun," I smile.

The initial rounds conclude swiftly. Aldaire and Himley manage to eliminate several competitors. Soon, I recognize Xavier and another soldier I had seen in the palace.

I find myself clapping and cheering for Aldaire and Himley. I hesitate to cheer for Xavier, aware that the council knows about me, but the rest do not. Yet, when he turns to look at me, his eyes smile as I give him a thumbs up.

I don't want Tristan to lose, but selfishly, I don't want Himley, Aldaire, and Xavier to lose either.

After several eliminations, there's a break. Tristan performs a bull's eye by himself and later offers a white rose to Emma. Her cheeks flush as he kneels and extends his hand. The love radiating from their faces warms my heart.

"I am thirsty. I'll go quickly before it starts again." I rise without waiting for Melissa and make my way to the stall where beverages are being served.

She trails behind me, scanning the crowd.

"Who are you looking for?"

"My sister."

"Speaking of which, I haven't met her," I hand her a drink and fetch water for myself.

"I should be doing this. I am here for a reason," she chides.

The council has made it clear that I am not to be treated like one of them. I intend to adhere to that rule as much as possible.

The hoots and shouts intensify. Ignoring Melissa, I rush back to our seats.

The noise is deafening, and despite my efforts, I can't discern the cause of the excitement.

"What's going on?" I ask, puzzled.

"I am so glad we get to witness the tournaments at least," she claps.

I glance at Emma, seated on her chair, a smile on her face. This time, it doesn't reach her eyes.