Stepping closer, Ceres could see that Lucious’s face and arms were bruised, one eye swollen and red. She couldn’t remember him becoming injured yesterday at the Killings. Had something happened after the event?
She walked over to the table and started laying weapons out in preparation for when Thanos would arrive. Swords, daggers, a trident, a flogger.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Lucious stagger, causing the other royal warriors and a few weapon-keepers to laugh.
Lucious touched the tip of his sword to the weapon-keeper’s nose, and the weapon-keeper winced with closed eyes as a drop of blood made its way into his mouth.
“Don’t move a muscle or you could lose your head,” Lucious said. “And you would have no one to blame but yourself.”
This was insane, Ceres thought. Couldn’t someone do something? She glanced at the others, but no one said a word or seemed to have any intent on helping Lucious’s victim.
Next, Lucious raised his sword, but before he swung, the weapon-keeper whimpered and the apple fell from his head and onto the ground, bouncing on impact, rolling a few feet away.
“I told you to remain still!” Lucious snapped.
“I…I’m sorry,” the weapon-keeper said, cowering backward, fright in his eyes.
“Get out of my sight, you useless piece of dung!” Lucious yelled.
The young man rose from his knees and scurried over to Lucious’s weapon table. Just then, Thanos arrived.
“Good morrow,” he said to Ceres, not having witnessed what just happened. “I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, thank you,” Ceres said, now all of a sudden feeling much lighter from his presence.
She continued to place weapons on the table, but when he remained quiet, she looked over at him. To her surprise, she found that he was studying her face with eyes that seemed to want possess her, and when she raised an eyebrow at him, his lips tilted upward into a hint of a smile.
She felt her cheeks warm.
Without a word between them, he began helping her organize the weapons.
That’s odd that he would help me, Ceres thought. He’s a prince. Perhaps he was trying to show appreciation in return for how she had helped him at the Killings? He didn’t have to do that, Ceres knew, though she did know one thing. When he showed kindness like this, it was becoming more and more difficult to reconcile the caring man before her with the arrogant man she had always thought he was.
Ceres glanced over to Stephania, and the princess’s eyes were spewing hatred toward her. Surely, it couldn’t be that Stephania was jealous of her? Thanos wouldn’t take interest in a commoner, would he?
Ceres shook her head and laughed a bit, throwing the ridiculous thought out of her mind.
“What is it?” Thanos asked, smiling.
“Nothing,” Ceres said. “So, what happened to Lucious anyway?”
“You mean the bruises?”
“Yes.”
“The king had him beaten for how spinelessly he acted yesterday,” Thanos said.
Even though she, too, thought Lucious a spineless imbecile, Ceres couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. She had herself been bruised and battered countless times, and it wasn’t something she wished upon anyone.
All of a sudden, Lucious yelled at his weapon-keeper, and just as she glanced up, she saw Lucious punching the young man in the stomach.
“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Ceres asked.
Immediately, Thanos strode over to Lucious, stopping a few feet away.
“What are you trying to prove?” Thanos asked.
Lucious scoffed.
“Nothing.”
Thanos took a threatening step toward Lucious.
“Why would I have anything to prove to anyone? I mean, look at you, anything is better than having a ratty, thin girl as a weapon-keeper,” Lucious said with a scornful laugh.
“I suggest you treat your weapon-keeper with respect, and if you don’t, I’m sure the king would see nothing wrong in leaving you to fend for yourself out in the arena,” Thanos said.
“Is that a threat?” Lucious asked, eyes seething.
Just then a messenger arrived and handed Thanos a scroll. Thanos read it, and looking back toward Ceres, he gave her a nod before heading toward the palace.
Had he been summoned? Ceres wondered, not too thrilled about being left without any instruction.
An Empire soldier stepped into the center of the arena and listed in which order the royals would spar, with Lucious against Argus first.
“Finally!” Lucious said.
He flung the bottle of wine onto the ground, shattering it, and his weapon-keeper offered him a sword. He snatched it, and then with contrived enthusiasm, Ceres thought, he strode onto the practice arena where Argus waited.
The Empire soldier signaled the start of the match, and the royals began to spar. Lucious’s first attack ended with his sword smashing into the ground, some onlookers snickering, others rolling their eyes. Lucious used his energy unwisely, Ceres saw, his jabs and lunges careless, with far too much effort.
The contenders took their places again, blade against blade, but within seconds of starting over, only a few hits in, Argus had hit Lucious’s sword out of his hands and pointed his tip against Lucious’s chest.
As soon as the Empire soldier named Argus the winner, Argus lowered his sword and jogged off the practice arena.
“Come on, cousin. Give me one more chance!” Lucious yelled after him. “I wasn’t even trying!”
When Lucious saw Argus wouldn’t entertain him, he turned to his own weapon-keeper.
“Xavier, spar with me,” Lucious said.
“S…sire?” Xavier said with a nervous stutter. “I would, my lord, but I have no skill.”
Angered, Lucious darted over to his weapon table, picked up a dagger, and stabbed Xavier in the abdomen.
Ceres’s hand hit her mouth, and she gasped with the others as the weapon-keeper cried and fell to the ground, arms wrapped around his waist.
“Get the runt out of my sight!” Lucious yelled.
Within a few seconds, Empire soldiers hoisted the moaning weapon-keeper onto a stretcher and carried him away.
“What I don’t understand,” Lucious said, making his way over to Georgio’s table, “is how I always get stuck with incompetence. Georgio, friend, lend me your boy.”
Georgio stepped between his weapon-keeper and Lucious.
“Lucious, you know I hold you in high regard. But this is insanity. Go home,” Georgio said with a chuckle, resting a hand on Lucious’s shoulder.
“Get your pretty-boy hands off me!” Lucious yelled, whacking Georgio’s arm away.
Yelling obscenities, Lucious walked over to another weapon-keeper, demanding he spar with him, but his master refused, too.
“Will no one fight me?” Lucious yelled, turning in a slow circle as his eyes scanned the bystanders. “Are you nothing but pitiful chicken droppings?”
With animosity in cold eyes, he continued to scrutinize the spectators, but most turned their eyes away.
Then he saw Ceres.
A pit formed in her stomach as he stomped toward her, pointing.
“You!” he yelled. “You will fight me!”
Ceres felt she would win a match against him, yet she was reluctant to accept, fearing she might hurt him, or make him look like the incompetent warrior he was in front of his peers. And if she made him look incompetent, she suspected Lucious would make certain she lost her position at the palace.
“I mean no disrespect, but I cannot fight you,” she said.
“You will!” Lucious said. “In fact, I command you to spar with me.”
She glanced at the others, some of them shaking their heads, others looking away, Stephania grinned wickedly. Could she refuse him? And what would happen if she did? Would Lucious fire her? Reason told her he probably would.
“Then I must accept the command,” she said, thinking it might be better to accept than refuse him.
Lucious’s face lit up.
“But first, may I fetch my sword from the blacksmith’s chalet?” Ceres asked, thinking of her father’s sword.