I was in the middle of my musings when Denzel peeked through the window further away from the door and called out to me.

"What do you want now," I asked him.

"I just wanted to inform that your first match will be in two days. You will be fighting against some giant scorpions. How many do you think you can take?"

I shrugged, not even bothering to get off the mattress. "I don't know, the only scorpions that live on the mountains are as big as my thumb. How giant are we talking? Do they have any special abilities?"

He shook his head. "They have a venomous stinger, but their venom shouldn't pose too much of a problem to you, if you resisted that spell like that, you could probably take a few dozen doses before you'd need a healer. As for how big, they're about fifteen feet long from the tip of the tail to the head."

"I think three should be a good number to get me used to them."

"Ehm, are you sure?" he said with a bit of worry in his voice, "their claws are pretty sharp, I've seen them behead a man once."

"Are you worried about me?" I said, almost laughing at him.

"I'm trying to protect my investments. You are of no use to me dead."

"Don't worry, three should be fine."

"If you say so…" he said, still not entirely convinced, "anyways, food will be delivered to you at sunset, at dawn, and at noon, unless there's a match, in which case it will be moved to an hour before the match. Do you have any preferences?"

I thought about it for a second before answering, "I'd prefer if there was a lot of meat, any cut is fine, except liver, I can't stand it, other organs are fine though. Fruits, berries, and nuts are all welcome too."

"Perfect, now…" he produced a bottle of ink that he put on the border of the window, a quill, and a piece of papyrus.

"Is that for my letter?" I asked.

"No, I'll get you parchment later, papyrus doesn't tend to last." he said, annoyed that I had interrupted him. "Since I can't present you as a slave anymore, we have to construct your tale."

"My what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"You're an entertainer now, you need some backstory," he said as a matter of fact.

"Oh…"

He tapped his chin with the barbs of the feather a few times, deep in thought, before saying, "how does 'the daughter of a chief in search for adventure' sound?"

"Can't say that I'm looking for much adventure, but my mother did mate with our chief before birthing me."

He smiled. "Oh, it's actually true! This is even better. Don't worry about it being true or not, though, it's not like the crowd has any way to check."

I shrugged and let him continue.

"Next, we have to add something to get the people pumped up. How does a troll sound?"

"Like... a troll?" I said, not getting what he meant.

He nodded to himself. "We'll add in a desperate battle with a troll that you barely got out from alive."

"Wait!" I said, jumping up from the bed, which made him jump a bit.

"What?!"

"What do you mean, 'what?' I could probably take down a troll with my bare hands before I even became an adult!" I shouted at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, that would make you as strong as a…" something seemed to click in him at that moment, "chief, right. Out of curiosity, what did you hunt for that ceremony you people hold when you become an adult?"

"An adult ice dragon." I said, presenting him a smug grin.

He stared at me wide-eyed and said, "you're kidding me."

"No, I'm not! Although I did do it with three companions," I admitted.

"I see… well, you definitely won't have a problem with the scorpions then." He jotted down a few lines on the papyrus. "I think I can work with this, it should gather quite the crowd." He lifted his eyes from the sheet and looked at me. "Do you have anything to ask me before i go?"

"Yes, actually. I'd really like to take a bath."

He thought about it for a bit then said, "I'll have Yvonne accompany you to the closest bathhouse. Just give me a bit to warn the city guard so you don't end up causing a scene."

I nodded. "Ok."

He put back his writing instruments and said, "well then, have a nice evening," before leaving.

About half an hour later the girl who had led me to my room reappeared to accompany me to the bathhouse. She was still tense around me, but at least she wasn't visibly shaking. She led me out of the estate and into the street that led to it and many others similar to it, although most seemed to be smaller than Denzel's. As we walked down the street, people parted to let us pass, looking at me with a mixture of awe and fear, while some armored guards followed us at a distance.

The bathhouse ended up being only a ten minutes walk away from the estate. It was a large building that reminded me of the drawings I had seen of Roman thermae, with high ceilings supported by columns and open air pools of hot water where people bathed together, although in two different sections for men and women. The walls and the bottom of the pools were decorated with detailed mosaics of marine animals and scenes of daily life. In short, it seemed to be quite the high-end establishment.

As I bathed, the women in the pool with me would not stop staring, as would the female guards who were standing against the room, who, something told me, were probably not a common sight inside the bathhouse.