Stepping out into the arena Sela rolled her shoulders and slid her sword into the sheath on her back. Twenty five of the potential competitors were already out stretching, sparring, and posturing. A title and an invitation to the annual royal ball was a high prize and large motivation for many. Sela included. Everyone knew the benefits of being able to attend that ball. Deals were struck, alliances forged, and people discovered.
As she strode out over the field to where a large array of weapons were on display, she wished for more of her own gear. They had allowed her the sword but nothing more. Only one personal weapon per competitor.
She scanned the large dirt field, taking note of the several odd shaped mounds off to one side.
More competitors arrived and joined the rest. The first few days of competition would hopefully narrow down the numbers at least a little. It all depended on if the royals were looking to extend and prolong the competition itself or get it over with.
“Sizing them up?” A lithe, fluidly graceful man sauntered up to stand next to her, a born swordsman by the looks of him. And he looked to be no more than five years older than her.
Sela didn’t answer. Why share what she knew with the competition?
“Not much of a talker?” He smiled.
She slowly turned to face him, maintaining a carefully neutral expression. He remained unguarded, not even moving back. Instead, his smile grew.
“Hello.”
She fought to not smile back. A horn sounded and echoed through the arena. Immediately the contestants started moving to where the stage was set up at the far end of the field.
The man beside her didn’t move to follow the rest. She paused and looked back at him, trying to figure out what his angle was. He stood still, watching as all the other people passed him without so much as a glance at any of them. A few of them nodded his way, one even bowed respectfully towards him and Sela’s eyes narrowed. His gaze stayed trained on her. When he saw her quizzical stare, he folded his arms.
Sela didn’t move. Her senses went on high alert and her guard up. She didn’t really want to let someone as casually confident as this man be behind her where she couldn’t see him. His smile widened even further when she didn’t look away.
“You heading over?” He tilted his head to the side.
“Are you?”
“You speak!” The elation on his face had her fighting to keep her concentration on her surroundings. “That’s wonderful. And your voice is beautiful, almost melodic. Maybe don’t speak while you’re competing because then they might mistake your interaction for a date.”
“My sword coming at their face might give it away that it’s not. And I could be competing against a woman when I chose to speak.” She eyed a large lumbering man who slowed to leer at her.
He nodded. “Fair point. I still stand by my warning though.”
Soon Sela noticed that there weren’t any people passing them anymore. All the other competitors were behind her but this man. And yet, she was more willing to have all of them behind her, out of sight, than the man standing in front of her now.
“You’ve been left behind.” He pointed behind her.
She gave a slow nod but didn’t look away. Another horn sounded and he gave her a slight bow.
“A pleasure having such a deep and insightful conversation with you. We must do it again sometime.” He turned and began walking away, the opposite way of the rest of the competition.
“Where are you going?” She took a step to follow him.
He didn’t stop walking but looked back at her, striding backward with as much ease as he had walking forward. “I have to go up in the stands. My father is probably freaking out enough as it is.”
“Why would he be freaking out?”
“I really hope you win. I would enjoy talking to you more. However, I doubt I can sneak away again after the competition actually begins. I think my father even made it a rule that you don’t get to talk to anyone outside of the other competitors so you can’t get any outside help.” He flashed another smile her way. “Though maybe I can be an exception. I’ll work something out.”
“You are talking as if you are not competing.”
He nodded cheerily. “I’m not.
“Who are you?”
His delighted grin caught her. “You don’t know me? I thought you knew, since you gave me your full attention.”
Sela shook her head, trying to figure out why she should be able to recognize him by sight. He did look familiar and now that she was truly looking at him and not only sizing him up as competition, she felt that she should know who he was. It didn’t come to her.
“You really don’t?” He smiled and gave her a courtly bow. “I look forward to calling you milady and watching you attempt your first noble curtsey.”
She held back a groan. “You’re a noble.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing. How many nobles do you know?” He stopped his very slow departure.
It was her turn to smile. “You sir, do not know me either.”
“Indeed?” He started walking back to her. “What is your name?”
“I would need a very good reason to share that with someone who is obviously unwilling to share their own. Besides, the officials might start to consider requiring me to leave and not enter the competition if I take too long.” It was her turn to face away from him, though all her instincts told her not to.
He caught up to her easily enough, walking beside her as if they were on a stroll in a private garden. “You aren’t going to tell me?”
Sela motioned up to where the audience was still cheering. “If all goes to plan, I am going to be announced and you will know who I am. You are going to walk away and there is a likelihood that I would never find out who you are. “
“Fair point.” He took hold of her arms and she fought to not tense. “I guess you will just have to win and get to that ball. If it helps, I am now rooting for you.”
She hesitated a moment, debating, before she flashed him a cheery smile. “I am too.”
