Many of them wore dark colors, she noted, but for the shirts. Blue and gray were a favorite. She turned slowly to gaze at Sebastian. He had dressed fairly simply himself today, still in gray.
“Wondrous?” He echoed in perplexation. “Aren’t you scared?”
“Should I be?”
He paused before shaking his head. “No. No one will hurt you here. Come, let’s walk around.”
Letting Sebastian lead the way, Isabel listened as he explained the boxing rings and the weights. He explained the movements and the practice, the toughness required simply to practice before ever entering the ring for a boxing match.
She listened as best as she could. But there was no denying she didn’t belong there. A woman, covered up and dressed well,didn’t belong in a space like this one. There were several men here; all of them took turns to watch, to stare, and to wonder.
“Are you certain it’s all right that I’m here?” She had to ask.
Nodding, he reassured her, “No one will say or do a thing. They wouldn’t dare. They couldn’t even if they wanted to. I own part of this gymnasium.”
Her eyes widened. “I had no idea. Then you attend here often?”
“Yes.” Stopping off in a corner with a food cart, he poured her a cup of tepid tea before wrapping up two small biscuits for her. “Let’s go sit down for a while. Another match is beginning.”
Around the ring they walked as the two contestants moved to the middle. They were so close, Isabel couldn’t help but wonder if they might fall out and continue the fight elsewhere. But then she reminded herself of her husband, noting his height. The man was towering and protective––he kept walking on the side of her that kept her from danger. She would always be safe.
The far corner had a pillar taking up half the view, which was why no one sat there. But it offered a semblance of privacy and quiet. Isabel settled with her tea to watch the match, wondering what it would be like for someone to enjoy beating one another.
“It is a game to them,” she realized.
“Of sorts.” Sebastian exhaled heavily. When she noted the way his knees turned closer toward her, she shifted as well toward him. There was that brooding gaze of his. Those green eyes were bright this morning, standing out from his unruly dark hair. He spoke low as he went on, “It is a way of fighting not just someone else, but for oneself.”
“What do you mean?” Isabel bit her lip immediately, wishing she hadn’t said anything, worrying it would silence him.
By some miracle, it didn’t. “I started boxing in my youth for another way to make some coin. Finally, I could get paid for what I was good at. Boxing was helpful. It always reminded of survival, how much we must fight the world every day just to live.”
“I never thought of it like that before,” she whispered. “I don’t like the idea of fighting the world. Do you think it so dark and cruel?”
“It can be. We both know this. But…” his gaze left hers to turn toward the ring. The sigh he gave her told her volumes. “Boxing made it brighter, my days past. In the ring, you see, there is only the moment. There is no title, no land, no weight of duty. There is only strength. Only truth. It is the one place I am only myself.”
A silent shuddering breath rippled through Isabel at those words, hearing the truth of them. Hearing such vulnerability from the large man left her wishing to find a way to protect him.
For once, he does not speak like a bitter or stern man. He isn’t hiding in the shadows away from me. Perhaps this is his way of making amends, of offering me part of himself. I thought I would be satisfied with an apology. But this… This almost feels like too much to offer.
She swore to herself right then how respectful she would be toward boxing for him. That she would do her best to learn and to care and to understand. If this helped him feel alive, then it had to be worthy.
“Thank you––” she started just as someone called out.
“Vale!”
While Isabel had been staring at her husband, studying her emotions, the boxing match had come to an end. One contestant was helping clean up blood off the ground while the other was moving toward them. She paused and watched as Sebastian rose to his feet to meet the stranger.
The lank white yellow hair on the man was long and matted against his skull with sweat. But he offered a lopsided wicked grin. She noted a few minor scars on his face that had years to have healed. There was a new bruise forming on the left-side of his jaw, but otherwise he hardly looked touched.
“Dukey boy, excellent timing. Well done bringing the wife to one of my matches. I always win,” he tossed out cheerfully to her before focusing on Sebastian. The man spoke with a heavy tilted accent that proved him a commoner, and yet he clasped afriendly hand on her husband like they were family. “Does this mean you shall be here for the holidays?”
“Only today,” Sebastian said with a shake of his head.
His friend made a face with a wrinkled nose before turning to Isabel, who made her way to her feet. “Pardon my manners, m’lady. ‘T’s not ever’day I meet meself a duchess. What a pleasure! Call me Marcus.”
Offering her hand, Isabel stifled a short chuckle when he planted a wet kiss on her knuckles. The moisture wouldn’t sink through the leather, but she noted the shine as she told him, “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Marcus.”
That garnered a laugh. “Mr. Marcus! That’s a gaff. A good one, Vale, she must be very good. Did you see that upper swing of mine?”
