The Colosseum

Fire With Fire

Ezra

"She'll be done in an hour," Leon informs. "But recovery...even with our experimentation drugs, she'll be in pain for a few days. Maybe even a full week. That's a miracle in the real world, but in the Colosseum, it's a slow death. Especially after tonight."

Nothing he tells me is new news. I've been thinking about what to do about that hiccup, myself. Glancing at him sidelong, I refrain from sighing in aggravation. I didn't need a reminder that her odds of survival suddenly turned bleak, but I know he's just doing his job. "Though you already knew that, I'm sure," he mutters. "If there's one thing we know about Kova, however, it's that she has quite the fighting spirit. Maybe she'll be perfectly fine when she wakes up."

I've yet to move an inch from the chair in the Dining Hall. The table has been cleared and cleaned, the chandelier firelights reoiled, and the room vacuumed. I know it's happened, but I don't remember it happening. I've been too deep in thought to notice. "Are you trying to cheer me up?" I inquire, running a hand through my hair.

"Perhaps," Leon tentatively responds. "Did you need to be cheered up?"

"I don't know," I mumble, unused to reciting those words unless sarcastically. "Why would I? Is there something I would need to be cheered up about?"

Like he knows something I don't, Leon secretively smiles, hiding it as he scratches the tip of his nose. But I saw it. I see everything. "Who knows, Your Highness? Who knows? Should you try to get some rest while Kova undergoes her operation?"

Try to get some rest. During the night, I'll typically retreat to my room and act like I can fall asleep just fine. But even in the safety of my bedroom, a dark and enclosed space makes me nervous. I know I'm not in the clocktower closet, but it doesn't make me feel any better. It just brings back memories I'd rather forget, though I say I like to keep them so I can learn from them. If I do sleep, it's at night because I'm so run with exhaustion, or during the day in a spacey room.

"I'll wait for it to end," I deny.

"And once it ends?" Leon presses, wanting to prepare an event or a meal for me in advance. Again, he's just doing his job, but the question bothers me. I don't know what I'm waiting for, so what am I supposed to tell him?

Shrugging, I rattle off my train of thought, hoping it will direct me to a point. "Once she's out of surgery, I'm sure she'll be hungry. She needs to eat, anyways. Have the cooks prepare something..."

"Of course. And as for you?" he continues.

"What about me?"

Unsurely, he shifts his weight between his feet, frowning in contemplation. "She knows about your connection to Ten, but of course she's still confused. Were you planning on explaining to her the details of your relationship with him tonight?"

"I wouldn't have time to do it later, so yes," I inform. "Why?"

"I mean between being exhausted, hungry, and in pain, I'm not sure she'd be up for a long and, quite frankly, taxing story about you and Ten's childhood," he boldly criticizes. "I was thinking tomorrow afternoon would be a good time."

"We don't have that kind of time," I snap. "We're already getting risky by keeping her through the morning. You know Deveraux has a show in the AM..."

"Hmph," Leon hums, raising his brows for a second. "I wasn't aware that the king's schedule ran around a show host's schedule."

Out of options, I throw my hands up in helplessness. "What do you suggest, then?"