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My hand had just connected with the metal door when Isaac called out, “It was nice to see you again, Rena!”
I ignored him and pushed through the doorway and up to the stairs. I bounded up them two at a time and hurried back into the large equipment room.
Chapter24
Mushroom Hooks
Ispotted Antonio speaking to a man with very broad shoulders and silver-streaked hair. I knew without the man turning around that it was Ivan Godinez, a famous mentor who had competed in the first tournament after the king died. The man was nearing seventy—he had no right being so handsome.
They conversed in a very masculine way, with their arms crossed and legs shoulder width apart. Thankfully, neither had seen me, so I approached slowly, concealed by a row of overhead press machines.
I wasn’t proud of trying to eavesdrop, but it had been like pulling teeth to get any information out of Antonio. Luckily, it wasn’t long before I could hear them perfectly well.
“…Isaac was starting school when I left. His audition was impressive. There’s no doubt that he will score high enough to—” Antonio was saying when Ivan Godinez interrupted.
“Yes, of course. I’m not worried about him. If thatgolden girlhadn’t come along, I know you two would’ve worked together perfectly well. Are you upset they sent that monstrous cave troll to work with you?” He scoffed. “They call her a princess in the streets, weeping all over their peasant altars. She’s not much to look at. But it’s best for a young man like you not to get caught up in a messy affair. The good news is that I’ve been a mentor a long time, and rumors are less believable when the woman is ugly.” Ivan spoke fast enough that it took me a second to process what he was saying.
My ears rang as the insults sunk in. I understood that my face might not be considered regal, but he called me… a troll. And admitted to having relationships with past competitors?
Disgusting.
I crept forward. What rumors was he talking about? Were there rumors about Antonio and me? Did Isaac know that?
Despite Ivan Godinez revealing himself as a flaming sack of garbage, it still hurt to be called ugly with such vulgar technique. My heart was in my throat, and my vision blurred. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and sweaty from my run.
The ringing in my ears got louder when I glimpsed Antonio’s neck flex and curve in agreement.
“None of that matters. The Canciller was wise when he told me I had to take on Renata. She is extremely talented, and I think she will surprise everyone.”
While I vehemently disagreed that how Ivan spoke about women didn’t matter, some of the nausea subsided. It sounded like there was a part of Antonio that really believed I could win. He had said so much in the meeting, but words were stronger when upheld in all situations.
A part of me wondered if he was repeating it as many times as it took for him to believe it.
I waited for Antonio to say more, to insult me to this awful man. But he didn’t continue. Since my pseudonym had been called out over televisions all around the commonwealth, fear had planted itself in my soul. It was dissoluble from living.
My heart was beating to an uneven rhythm, so I reached up and pressed my left hand to my breast as if I could still the flutter with mere pressure. I put all of my weight against one of the machines to steady myself.
The damned thing made a series of loud clanking sounds as both I and the equipment toppled over. Pain bloomed across my right side from thigh to shoulder.
“Maldita sea,” I hissed as I tried to sit up. More fire shot up my hip, but it did not injure me in any major way.
“Renata?” Antonio’s voice called, and I looked up to see both him and Ivan Godinez staring at me. My mentor’s face was a swirl of cool rage, while Ivan shot me the most unimpressed stare he could muster.
The older man turned away from me before I had even finished getting up. I could have been resentful, but having the attentions of a repugnant old man wasn’t something I aspired to.
“Perdón,” I said sheepishly.
Antonio murmured something to Isaac’s mentor, and the old man left without another word. I was too busy untangling my torn shirt from a spring to see if Ivan’s face betrayed some sort of emotion while leaving.
A large hand appeared in front of me. “Get up,” Antonio said with a harsh voice.
I wrapped my fingers around his palm, and he pulled me up. The contact didn’t last a second longer than it needed to, and he snatched away his limb with no further inquiries to my state of being.
He picked up the machine I’d knocked over with ease, all while my face burned.
I waited for him to call me out on eavesdropping, maybe even say something about how I idiotic I looked. He did not.
Once he’d put the machine back in its place, he was off, walking to the other side of the room. Feeling contrite, I followed behind him dutifully. Inspecting my shirt, I found a large hole torn above my stomach. I’d had this for less than a day, and it was ruined. I fidgeted with the open hole.
