The Colosseum

Force to Reckon With

Kova

Shortly after my surgery, Ezra found me in the operating room, accompanied by Leon. There was a look in his eyes, as if someone just gripped him by the shoulders and shook the daylights out of him. Yet, despite that, everything else about him was cool and composed. "I see everything went well," he surmises, gratefully nodding at the surgeons who clean up and leave. "Does it hurt?"

Trying to move my leg makes me want to vomit, but it's definitely not as bad as when the damage was unrepaired. "Like a bitch," I snap. "But one I can handle." Swallowing my pride, I say what should be said. "Thanks."

Briefly, Ezra glances away, as if he wasn't expecting the acknowledgement. "Well, I need eyes at the Colosseum, so..." He pulls a chair from the far wall of the room and swings it around, the back towards me. Straddling it, Ezra sits in a position of comfort rather than one of regality. He must be easing into this partnership more. "I know there's a lot you want to know, so before we get into it, let me square a few small things away."

I raise a brow at what a "few small things," can mean to Ezra. I feel like his garden could blow up in flames and it would be nothing but a minor inconvenience to him. Cautiously, I allow him to proceed. "Okay..."

"The Ice Queen knows that I've got people searching for leads for her real identity, so she set fire to all of the nearby crops," he informs, dropping the bombshell on me. This is small? "Soon, you'll feel the consequences in the Colosseum. The cafeteria won't be able to supply as much food." Great. This means getting food will be difficult, especially knowing that everyone wants my head or more. "I also believe she knows that I..." he pauses, searching for the right words like the Ezra I know. "Have a different relationship with you than I do with the other gladiators, so whoever is meeting in the catacombs on her behalf will know who to go after if I upset her too much."

"Wow, I'm glad these are such small matters," I groan, rolling my eyes and heaving a sigh. I'm getting attacked on all sides and the most he can call that is a small matter. How...Ezra.

"I'm just laying down the information, I haven't gotten to the point yet," he assures. "I've set the rest of the week to be animal versus animal matches, so it gives you time to rest. Plus, that means the time for the gladiators will be used to train with Annette, keeping her busy." My aggravation vanishes when I realize he's changing the game's agenda to bend around my injury, yet again. "Deveraux also scheduled a sudden show in the morning."

"So, a lot's going on," I obviously state. "What's the punchline?"

Almost smirking at my bluntness, Ezra poses: "Did you want to recover here for the time being, or return to the Colosseum?"

Taken aback by his offer, I lean into the hospital bed, contemplating. He's really making sure that I'm willing to participate in the deal we struck up, which makes me question the gravity of his history with him and Ten. Is it so bad that I'd question turning and helping Ten, instead? Is that why he's being so nice, all of a sudden? "Well, either way, I'm screwed," I mumble. And as much as Ezra's allowing me to be pampered, I think I have to deny it. "I'll go back," I tell him. "If I run to the king every time something goes wrong, it'll look bad."

Quietly – so quietly that I wonder if I even heard it – Ezra disappointedly sighs. "And what about your leg?"

I'm sure it'll be the target of underhanded tricks I'm about to receive under the arena, and I can't do much running just yet. I'll have to figure out new tactics to get people to keep their distance. I could just do what Ezra does and glare at people, I suppose. "I'll rest it. I can work on upper body strength while it heals. How long will it take?"