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“I don’t know,” Danae said, pushing back her lank hair.
“The baths,” Kerrigan encouraged. She inched the girl out of the room. “You’ll feel better.”
“Okay, but I can’t go to the tournament. I don’t … I don’t trust myself.”
“You need to learn to control your magic.”
She shook her head vehemently. “I need to learn to hide it better. Maybe … maybe I can get rid of it, like you did!”
She sounded so genuinely excited at the prospect that Kerrigan tried to withhold the roiling pit of despair at those words. Magic hadn’t always been kind to her, but living without it was so much worse. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“No,” Kerrigan said fiercely. “What was done to me was a severe violation. I would not hope for you to ever feel like this.”
“Oh,” Danae whispered. “I didn’t mean …”
“And anyway, they don’t know how to do it here. At least, your father doesn’t. Which is good. I don’t know that I’d even wish it on my enemy.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kerrigan touched her hand. “It’s all right. We’ll figure it out.”
Danae nodded. Though she didn’t appear convinced by Kerrigan’s words. But at least she’d gotten Danae out of the room and to the baths, which were nearly empty, as everyone who could afford to was already headed to the coliseum.
The girls returned, cleaned up. Danae even helped her apply a salve to the cuts Myron had made across her neck and chest. Then, at Kerrigan’s request, Danae reset her nose so that she wouldn’t have a giant bump on it. It hurt something fierce, but otherwise, her injuries were healing nicely.
Constantine was annoyed, as expected, but this stern expression lessened when he saw a smile on his daughter’s face. No matter how he reacted to everyone else, Danae was his whole world. He’d do anything to protect her.
“Day,” he said with a smile. “You look more like yourself.”
Her smile faded slightly. “I suppose so.”
“You could come with us today.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m never allowed to go.”
“We’ll make an exception for today.”
Kerrigan sighed in relief. This was good. Danae needed to get away from this. Kerrigan was glad that Constantine saw that too.
“You’ll have to go without me,” Danae finally said.
Kerrigan put an arm across her shoulders. “Come on. You’ll need to help me strategize how to take out my opponents.”
Danae swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“If you’re up to it, you should get out of the house,” Constantine agreed.
She looked between the two of them as if she were affronted that they were ganging up on her. But she really couldn’t spend another entire day inside, lamenting what could have been. What she really needed was some kind of teacher for her magic. Just as Kerrigan had needed one for hers. But neither Constantine nor Danae seemed intent on doing that. They were too worried about her being discovered by the Doma. And having met a Doma, Kerrigan understood the fear. At the same time, hiding magic never went well for anyone.
“Okay,” Danae finally conceded, another small smile gracing her features. The tournament was too big of a treat to pass up. “Let me change, and I’ll come with you.”
A few minutes later, she was downstairs again in servant attire, insisting on walking behind Kerrigan and Constantine. None of them spoke as they wound through the streets of Carithian and came to the coliseum once more. Evander and the rest of the men had already staked out seats to watch the festivities. Constantine could have procured better seats for him and Kerrigan, as she was a competitor, but he preferred the company of his men. Considering how people acted toward Andines, she wouldn’t want to sit with Domarans either.
The crowd recognized her as she took her seat among them. Many men and women came up to offer their congratulations and press food and wine into her hands. She passed most of it off to the other men but kept a delicious-smelling baked good for herself and tucked a golden flower behind her ear at an older woman’s insistence.
The first fight began with a long, rambling introduction from the announcer. Sitting in the stands made Kerrigan feel so disconnected from the fight. There was none of the adrenaline and fear off of the competitors. She wished she were down below so she could really understand what was going on. But Constantine and Evander kept up a steady stream of instruction for her about both competitors as they watched. Until one man unceremoniously sliced the other man’s head off.
“Alderic wins!” the announcer cried.
She cringed as the crowd cheered. “Gods, he’s … brutal.”
Evander nodded sagely. “He’s from Rutslan. A truly ruthless people from the mountain regions north of Domara and Andine. They wear the skins of giant creatures that roam their lands and share their women.” His expression was pinched. “Domara was reluctant to even bring them into the empire.”
