Page 51 of Thief of Hearts

“I told him he would be wise to move on with his life and leave you and the tournament alone. I said whatever happened to you, I would give him double. And I may or may not have described in graphic detail exactly what I would do to him if you lost so much as a single hair from your head.”

“Zain, I shed hair all the time.”

“That’s not good for the Jacharian.”

I grabbed his upper arm and got him to stop. When he looked at me, the anger died down in his eyes and turned into something warm and soothing.

“You know that I can fight my own battles, don’t you?” I asked.

“I know. But now you don’t have to.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Why is the crowd so angry?” I asked Zain as we stood outside the stadium, waiting to be let in to disrobe and for the competition to begin.

“That’s actually your fault,” he said.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“You’ve created quite the sensation. When the women of Sagaris found out you were competing, they demanded that they be given entry, too. The decision was made late last night that for the rest of the tournament, women are invited to watch.”

“Yes, and as a result, the rest of the tournament will be clothed,” someone next to us remarked bitterly.

If that was true, I would welcome it.

But it seemed that the other competitors and the audience were both angry about that choice.

“How are you still standing?” It took me a moment to realize that a Sagari man was speaking to me. “Just watching you do all that running—it gave me a stitch in my side.”

Another man said, “Watching her run gave me an iron club.”

The men around us laughed at his vulgar joke. A Daemonian slammed into the second man’s shoulder, nearly knocking him over. The man turned to yell at whoever had been clumsy enough to hit him but immediately stopped when he saw who was responsible.

He scurried away while the Daemonians remained. The man who appeared to be their leader said to me, “It was an honor to watch you race and see how well you performed.”

“Thank you.” I knew the Daemonians meant what they said or else they wouldn’t have said it. They were not known for being verbose. And their compliment was solely about my running. They probably hadn’t even noticed that I’d been naked.

The leader nodded and said, “We are looking forward to watching you compete today.”

The Daemonians left and the Sagari who had made the comment about me giving him a stitch in his side said to his friend, “I used to admire Daemonians for their bravery until I had dinner with them and thought I would die from the lack of flavor. Now I’m not impressed by their courage because even the biggest coward would rather die than live that kind of life.”

His friends laughed and they went toward the stadium.

Once they were gone, Zain asked me, “Should I be jealous of your new Daemonian suitor?”

“If the Daemonian had wanted to court me, he would have challenged me. A race, a duel, something. Like Thracian men, they don’t flirt and are very up-front about what they want.”

“I’ve been up—”

Before Zain could finish his sentence, the doors to the lower levels opened and we were ushered inside. I went to the private room that had been set aside for me. The same young attendant who had helped during the race waited for me by the door.

“Is it true?” I asked. “We’re keeping our clothes on?”

He nodded, seeming nervous. “Yes, and there are some that worry we will invoke the wrath of the gods by breaking tradition.”

“Some traditions should be broken,” I told him.

He nodded and hurried away while I went into the room and closed the door, preparing myself for the upcoming event.