“Ancient fucks!”

Mattiew roared as Sedis relocated his shoulder.

“Take it easy on that arm for a while, alright?” Sedis said. “Or go see a healer before the next Trial.”

He patted Mattiew on the back and left his room as Adriana burst through the door.

“I know what you’re gonna say.” Mattiew said before she could speak. “Call me an idiot about eight different ways for jumping to my death.”

Adriana scoffed. “Aren’t we presumptuous? I’m actually getting used to fearing for your life.”

She wrapped him up in a warm embrace.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” she said, “And I don’t really mind this one so much. You saved Alo’aharu’s life.”

“I only did that becaus-”

“I know why.” She cut him off and started to rake her fingers through his thick hair “Jackal and Leila were missing.”

“I managed to avoid getting anyone killed, even though every single challenge there was meant to have me sacrifice one of my people. Jackal and Leila died to a Nightdweller.” Mattiew muttered.

“You cannot blame yourself for their deaths.” Adriana jabbed her finger into his chest. “That trial was designed to pick off your numbers. It’s impressive they were the only ones you lost.”

“Dakkar told me not to let them die in vain.” Mattiew said. “We’re fighting to give your father the crown.”

“No, we’re fighting for our happiness, sweetheart.”

“But does it have to come about like this? When my Scourgers finds out I plan on giving the crown to...Andar Callione, they’ll string me up and leave me out to dry. And probably do the same to you. Irkalla, that’s what I’d do.”

“Well, then you’ll be happy to hear my latest report.” Adriana took a seat on their bed next to him. “My father is planning to steal a prized relic from the Wild Age from House Diamedes and blame a scapegoat. If we can find evidence that it was him, we can threaten him with it to release us. I said I’d figure something out, didn’t I?”

“Ancient Kings, are you serious?” Mattiew’s heart skipped with a rush of enthusiasm.

“I am. Though I have to be careful about how I do this. So it may take more time. But I no longer have to worry about the guardsmen allying with me.”

“Oh, thank the Emperors.” Mattiew rested his head against her shoulder. She brushed her soft fingertips along his cheek as she giggled.

“On another note, you did make it to the final sixteen.” Adriana said. “Which means we have to go to the Intermission Banquet two nights from now.”

“Intermission Banquet. Never heard of it.”

“It’s a big party where the survivors of the first four trials are celebrated. Get to know your final competitors and oftentimes, previous Bellirex winners are there.” Adriana said. “The Diamedes and Tammuz houses will also be realizing their alliance. Which is when my father intends to strike.”

Despite Adriana’s efforts, Mattiew’s mind was still dwelling on his Scourgers.

“Even if we manage to get away...what about my crew? I doubt they’ll forgive me if I just up and abandon them again.” Mattiew muttered.

“Don’t think like that, Matty.” Adriana stroked her fingers through his hair. “Tonight was big. Let’s celebrate by buying you a new fancy robe to go with my dresses.”

Mattiew sat up. “I will not be wearing a wool rainbow around my shoulders like those Veyshtari fools.”

Adriana crossed her arms. “But you looked so good in the leopard skin I bought you last year.”

“I wore that as a favor for your birthday.”

Adriana pouted.

“Oh, don’t be like that. What’ll it take to convince you?” Mattiew laid a hand on her thigh as he kissed her. “I still have one working arm.”

“I don’t offer compliance for pleasure the way you do.” Adriana narrowed her eyes at him, but her cheeks blossomed with rosy color.

“You always say that, sweetheart…” Mattiew pushed her onto the bed.

***

Alo’aharu wandered through the halls of the Callione house, unable to take their mind off the Trial of Ambition. It had been two days since they’d cost the Sea Scourgers their advantage, but Alo’aharu couldn’t stop trying to think what they could’ve done differently.

Tonight, servants were rushing about the house. It was the night of the Intermission Banquet. Ordinarily, a Kingmaker and Champion would accompany their Prince or Princess to the banquet, but the choice was left up to Alo’aharu. And Kalai was asked not to attend, as ancient Tsengol party etiquette would be a disastrous display for House Callione. So Alo’aharu had no plans to attend the party.

Though as servants and slaves rushed about, Alo’aharu noticed they were keeping a wide breadth as they were passed by. They kept their heads down or tried to ignore Alo’aharu.

Their fear made the air heavy.

“Alo’aharu?”

What was it that caused so many to be afraid of them? Alo’aharu’s kind was generally looked upon favorably by those who treated Nightborn as equals.

“Alo’aharu.”

Alo’aharu snapped their head up and looked around. They felt a hand rest on their shoulder.

They glanced behind them and caught sight of Diana Callione, Lord Callione’s mistress. Well, second wife, in a way, as she took the House name. Acernic rules for noble concubines were confusing. She looked like Adriana, only older by a few years.

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“Alo’aharu, can you hold Marce for just a moment?”

Before they could respond, Alo’aharu was holding Diana’s child in their arms, who they hadn’t even noticed was with her.

“Andar’s so damn obsessed with everyone looking good for this banquet, he left no one to take care of me.” Diana muttered as she put some pins in her silky black hair. “Typical of him.”

“Are you...not going, Miss Callione?” Alo’aharu asked, wondering what the appropriate way to hold the toddler Marce was.

“‘We have to keep up appearances, woman.’” She said mockingly, quoting her lord. “‘The other nations don’t approve of concubines.’ Pfft. All Andar cares about is that he still has my cousin’s sorcery in his back pocket.”

“That would be...Lady Callione you speak of, yes?”

“Who else in this house is a decrepit old hag who could only bear a single daughter?” Diana took Marce from Alo’aharu after pinning her hair up. “Alo’aharu, would you be a dear and come with me? All the servants are busy with their traitor of a daughter and her street rat gigolo. But I thought to throw you and the other Nightborn a small feast during your night off.”

“Oh?” Alo’aharu cocked their head. “Of course I’ll accompany you. But why throw a feast?”

“It won’t be anything fancy.” Diana shrugged, as she began to walk with purpose down the hall. Alo’aharu followed close behind. “Still, slaves are living beings. It’s not often that fact is acknowledged.”

“I am not a slave, Miss Callione.” Alo’aharu frowned.

Diana paused for a moment. “Of course you're not. My mistake. Regardless, as a Nightborn in the Callione household, I can’t help but feel sorry for you sometimes.”

“I see. It’s pity, then.”Alo’aharu said before quickly adding. “Not that there’s anything wrong with pity.”

“Sure. But let’s be frank, dishing out beatings is nothing a child like Marce should have to witness either.” Diana said before looking at her child. “Is it? No….that’s right.”

The child babbled incoherently in response.

Alo’aharu hesitated. “Are you throwing this feast to assuage me? Before Lord Callione…disciplines me?”

“Discipline you for what?”

“About my...my fumble during the trial.” Alo’aharu whispered.

“I...no. I haven’t heard about it. What happened?”

Alo’aharu was aware of the risks in telling Diana about the trial, but her voice was so full of concern. And it wasn’t as though she had the most respect for Andar in the first place.

“I slipped up on the final stretch of the course. I was knocked unconscious and pushed off my ledge. Nikoliades managed to rescue me, but letting myself get knocked out caused us to finish ninth. We missed the advantage because of me.”

“Oh...I see. Well, Andar hasn’t heard anything about it. And that vagabond’s still in the tournament, isn’t he?” Diana said. “Everything will work itself out. You don’t need to worry about being disciplined. Besides, you aren’t a slave.”

“I-I suppose not.” Alo’aharu muttered. “Ancient Kings, I was so worried I’d really messed up.”

“You probably have injuries to nurse. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” Diana asked.

“But what about-”

“I’ll find someone else to look after us. You deserve the down time. And you can join us later tonight at the feast, alright?”

Alo’aharu nodded. “I won’t forget this kindness you’ve done for me, Miss Callione. Thank you.”

***

A knock pounded on Mattiew’s door as he trimmed his beard.

“For the last time, I am not wearing a brightly colored blanket!” He shouted. “And no one is curling my hair!”

Whoever was there opened the door anyway.

“I take it the house servants have been harassing you for a while.”

Mattiew turned to look at Kalai as she stood in the doorway.

“Oh. Uh...sorry about that. Come on in.” Mattiew said. “And actually, my wife has been doing most of the harassing.”

Kalai closed the door behind her and collapsed on his and Adriana’s bed, causing it to creak.

“Is Adriana okay with you wearing...that?” Kalai gestured to Mattiew’s choice of clothing.

He’d decided to wear a black, gold embroidered chiton tunic that displayed his chest and right shoulder, held in place by a broad golden belt over a red cloth wrap around his ribs. An array of black and white tasseled cloth hung to his knees in a skirt. A golden arm ring wrapped around his right bicep and two firm leather bracers adorned his wrists.

“What? I think it’s pretty close to noble styles.” Mattiew looked down at himself. He knew how relative his statement was, compared to actual noble styles and what he usually wore.

“How many blades are on your person?” Kalai asked.

“None! Why...why would I have blades on me?”

Kalai gave Mattiew a look.

He grimaced. “I cut the number in half, alright? It’s only seven.”

“Fine. Seven is acceptable. Still, you look like a vagrant. A handsomely dressed vagrant, but a vagrant nonetheless.”

“I’m the Vagabond Prince according to the Keeper. And Adriana would rather dress down with me than dress up and not match.”

“You can wear whatever you want.” Kalai said. “I came here because I wanted to do my job and advise you.

Mattiew raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Tonight, you’re going to be stuck in a room full of former Bellirex winners and the sixteen most elite competitors from this Bellirex. There are people there valiantly fighting for their ideals. You should talk to them.”

“You sound like a nobleman pressuring her daughter to marry.” Mattiew said as he continued trimming his beard.

“I’m not telling you to do this because I think they’ll convince you to toss Callione to the wayside. I actually think it’ll do the opposite. What remains of your competitors is really quite a sad cast of characters.” Kalai said.

“You mean because most of them just fought in the Bellirex for the sake of their family’s honor and prestige?” Mattiew washed his newly trimmed beard with water from a small dish.

“Because the people who solely rely on their ideals are just as sad as the ones who fight for vainglory and fame.”

Mattiew turned to look at Kalai. “Isn’t your whole goal to get me to solely rely on my ideals?”

“No. That’d be stupid.” Kalai said. “You know your friend Khemti? Do you know why he entered the tournament?”

“I...I don’t actually know.” Mattiew attempted to recall an answer from his conversations with Khemti.

“He wants to provide an alternative place for Alazarites to live where they aren’t under the thrall of their frankly vicious system of hierarchy.” Kalai said. “Though what he actually wants is a place where Alazarites can live in peace away from politics and selfish corruption.”

“That’s...impossible.” Mattiew said.

“Exactly right. Khemti’s a strong sorcerer and a strong man. But that strength only comes because he’s shouldered all the hopes and burdens of his people.” Kalai muttered. “The light of his sorcery sears my eyes. All these people’s ambitions and dreams were thrust upon one young man.”

“So...you’re saying he’s wrong?” Mattiew asked as he stood from his desk and readied himself to leave.

“I’m only saying what I see. I see a young man taken hold of by the curse that comes along with ideals. I like the man. But that’s why it’s...painful to look at.”

Mattiew furrowed his brow, confused at his Champion.

“To me this just sounds like you’re telling me to abandon any sense of ideals I might have and fight for my wife. Which I was already doing. You're the one who’s supposed to convince me my ideals aren’t futile.”

Kalai huffed. “In a way, they are futile. And yet they are what differentiates you from a cold blooded murderer and the legendary Sea Scourgers from the stories told to children about Nightdwellers. How will you reconcile that?”

Mattiew shook his head. “What a wonderfully frustrating question to end on. If you don’t mind me, I’d like to take a night off from thinking about this dilemma. Just one night that I can spend with my wife. No strategy. No worrying. An intermission.”

Kalai shrugged. “I suppose you’ve earned some down time. But you won’t like the way this issue resolves itself, Nikoliades. You’re going to have to choose if you want any right to lament the results.”

“Stop telling me things I already know.” Mattiew said as he walked out of his room, closing the door behind him.