The rejected crown

A twist in time

~ezra

Ezra was still trembling as they dragged him out of the pit, the mocking laughter of the guards echoing behind him. His body ached, his heart racing from the sheer brutality of the fight. The guards shoved him and the other battered fighters down a narrow corridor until they reached the sleeping quarters—a dimly lit, grimy room with stone walls and straw pallets scattered across the floor. Ezra collapsed onto a pallet, his entire body protesting as he did. He stared up at the cracked ceiling, trying to steady his breathing. He had no idea how he was going to survive here.

"Reckless move back there," a voice muttered nearby. Ezra turned his head to see one of the other gladiators, a scarred man with a shaved head, watching him with a half-smile. "What kind of idiot charges in like that with no plan?"

"I had a plan," Ezra mumbled, feeling defensive. "It just... didn't work out."

The man snorted. "Clearly. So what's your story? You don't look like the usual bloodthirsty type."

Ezra hesitated, searching for a way to explain himself. But before he could answer, the door to the room swung open with a loud, ominous creak, and the guards tensed as a commanding figure stepped into the doorway.

"On your feet!" one of the guards barked, banging the flat of his sword against the stone wall. "The princess is here!"

The room exploded into movement as the gladiators scrambled to line up. Ezra, still aching from his previous fight, scrambled to his feet, heart pounding. Princess Giovanna. He had read about her, of course—but seeing her now, here, in person, was overwhelming.

She entered like a storm cloaked in silk, each step measured, her blue eyes as sharp and cold as polished steel. She carried herself with the unmistakable confidence of someone who wielded power effortlessly. Her gaze swept the room, and when her eyes landed on Ezra, he felt an intense chill creep over him.

Ezra's mind spun, grasping for words. She was exactly as the history books had described: beautiful, shrewd, and deadly, with a presence that made every person in the room shrink. He swallowed, heart hammering in his chest as he thought of her fate, the one he had read about—a tragic, brutal end that had been immortalized in the annals of history.

"You," she said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "The one with the foolish charge in the pit." Her gaze was fixed on Ezra, her expression unreadable.

Ezra felt his mouth go dry. "Your Highness," he managed, dipping his head in a hurried, awkward bow. He was acutely aware of every gaze in the room, waiting, watching. His instincts screamed at him to tread carefully.

"And what, precisely, was going through your mind, charging in like that?" Her voice was laced with icy amusement, but there was an edge to it that made him uneasy. "Did you believe you were invincible? Or are you simply reckless?"

Ezra's heart pounded faster. He could feel her cold eyes on him, unyielding, judging him. "I—" He paused, swallowing hard. How could he possibly explain the truth? That he didn't belong here, that he'd been brought to this time against his will, that he knew exactly how her story would end? But the words spilled out before he could stop himself. "I... I don't belong here, Your Highness. I'm... from the future."

The words hung in the air, absurd and fragile. The silence that followed was as heavy as a lead weight. The guards exchanged looks, uncertain whether to laugh or draw their swords. A few of the other gladiators snickered, but Giovanna... she didn't blink. Her expression remained cold, assessing, a slight smirk pulling at her lips.

"From the future?" she repeated, voice dripping with mockery. Her gaze intensified, as if dissecting him. "Tell me, do they let madmen fight in the pits these days?"

Ezra swallowed again, feeling his face flush. He wanted to look away from her penetrating stare but couldn't. "It's... It's true," he stammered, feeling increasingly foolish. "In the future, you... You're remembered as one of the greatest rulers. They write about you in books. They name statues after you."

A faint glimmer of amusement sparked in her eyes, but it was dark and laced with cruelty. "Is that so?" She raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. "And am I, in this future of yours, as magnificent as they say?"

Ezra nodded fervently. "Yes," he replied, almost breathless, awe seeping into his voice. "But... your end... it's..."

Her smirk disappeared, her eyes narrowing. "My end?" she prompted, voice dangerously soft. "Tell me, little time traveler. How does it end?"

Ezra hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He hadn't meant to say it, but now he was caught. The silence in the room was suffocating, each second stretching painfully. "Your Highness," he said, barely above a whisper, "it's tragic. You're... betrayed. They say it was... merciless."

Her face remained an unreadable mask, but he saw a flash of something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe even anger. She regarded him for a long, tense moment, as if weighing his every word. Then, slowly, a cold smile curved across her lips.

"You certainly have an active imagination," she said, her blue eyes glittering with amusement. "Perhaps you'll make an interesting addition to the festival matches after all."

Ezra paled. "Wait, what?"

Giovanna turned to the guard beside her. "Make sure he participates. I want to see how well our little time traveler performs."

The guard grinned. "With pleasure, Your Highness."

Before Ezra could protest, the guards were already moving, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him toward the exit.

"Wait! Hold on!" Ezra yelped, his feet dragging across the floor. "I'm not ready! I haven't trained! I don't even know how to hold a sword properly!"

"Don't worry," Giovanna called after him, her voice filled with teasing amusement. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. After all, you've seen the future, haven't you?"

The room erupted into laughter once more as Ezra was hauled away, his protests drowned out by the echoes of their amusement.

As the guards dragged him down the corridor, Ezra groaned, rubbing his face in disbelief.

"Great job, Ezra," he muttered under his breath. "You just told the most powerful woman in the world that you're a time traveler. What could possibly go wrong?"

But even as he berated himself, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning—and somehow, his bizarre encounter with Princess Giovanna was going to matter more than he could possibly imagine.