Chapter 181

I awaken the next morning to a loud, confident knock on my door. Rising up from bed, I pull on my housecoat and walk to the door, opening it. I’m half-expecting Bethany, though she doesn’t usually knock quite that loudly. Instead, I find the Pitmaster there.

Her expression is severe as always but doesn’t give much away. Seeing her, I panic for half a moment, thinking I might be hauled off to the coliseum again. Maybe Caleb took the words I said yesterday as an insult and sought to punish me.

But once the initial shock and tiredness clears from my mind, I realize that is extremely unlikely. More likely, the Pitmaster is here for some other purpose.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Let me in,” the Pitmaster says.

I stand back from the door, allowing her entrance. Once she’s inside, she gestures for me to move away from the door. I do as she instructs, trusting her, even though she is very frightening and intimidating. She secures the door behind us, even locking it.

“Is something happening?” I ask, panic rising within me. “Are we under attack?”

“No,” the Pitmaster says. “I am merely securing the perimeter.”

I don’t understand. “Why?”

As she moves toward the window, she stops to glance at me. “So that you do not attempt to escape again.”

So I am in trouble after all. “Did Caleb send you here?”

She continues toward the window, were she checks if it’s secure, even pressing against it slightly as if testing it. Though she doesn’t answer my question, she doesn’t need to. I already know.

“Bethany will be here soon,” I say.

“She’ll know to knock,” the Pitmaster says, “Though I need to speak with you privately before she arrives.”

“You… do?”

The Pitmaster isn’t a big talker. She has always been, in my experience of knowing her, a woman of action, not words. What exactly did Caleb say to her to make her come here, not just to babysit me but to feel she also needed to talk some sense into me?

It doesn’t seem right. Surely she has more important duties to attend to at the coliseum, where the horrendous punishments continue to be doled out for the amusement of the noble classes.

She walks the full perimeter of the room, then gestures for me to sit down at the table with her.

I move to comply. There, across from me, she sits rigidly in the chair, as if it’s her body’s natural inclination to be at attention at all times, even when she is supposed to be resting.

“What do we need to talk about?” I ask.

“I have become aware of some of your… concerns… being in your present position,” the Pitmaster replies.

I blush slightly, embarrassed that Caleb would share such things with anyone, especially a woman so highly regarded and dangerous. How pathetic I must seem in her eyes.

Before I can even try to explain myself, she continues, “I was once in the King’s harem.”

The world seems to still. Surely I misheard.

“Not King Caleb’s,” she clarifies, “but that of his father.”

I try to imagine what it must have been like belonging to a harem of such a vicious man. But then, at the beginning, Caleb was also something of a brute. Caleb changed though, over time. His father, it seemed, did not.

“I was in the harem for a few years,” the Pitmaster continues. “Then, in time, he grew bored of me. For a while, I felt as if I was floating through life without purpose. I was of no use to anyone, not even myself.”

“That’s how I feel…”

She nods. “One day, I stepped outside of the walls of the harem. I lifted a sword and found that I liked it. Training and then training others, I found my purpose. Eventually even the King acknowledged my ability and assigned me my current position, which I take great pride in.”

She looks away. “While I cannot save those condemned to the coliseum, I can help prepare them to hone the best of their abilities. I give them the best possible fighting chance, so when they step into the ring, they might survive. Many do not, but some succeed.”

Looking back at me, she continues, “You feel like a prisoner right now. With the rebellion looming, you are a prime target for kidnapping and ransom. King Caleb is fond of you and everyone knows it. But when the rebellion is over, the world will open to you once more. The King, with his fondness for you, will likely support whatever you want to do after that point.”

Concentrating on what she’s saying, I try to piece things together. “I hardly think Caleb wants me to pick up a sword,” I say.

“Not a sword, perhaps,” she agrees. “But there are other options. Other paths you can walk down to help you feel more complete and satisfied.”

I sigh. “Do you think he’ll ever let me go?”

“No,” she says bluntly. “He is very fond of you. That is unlikely to change. But because of that fondness, he is even more likely to make special accommodations for you and whatever you desire. You merely need to think about what you want.”

I laugh slightly, even though I don’t feel particularly amused. “That’s the questions, then? What do you want to do with the rest of your life?”

“Why not?” she asks. “You are searching for a purpose. Why not find it?”

I don’t have a reason for that.

With the King’s power and with his favor, theoretically, I could do anything in the world that I want when the rebellion is defeated.

So, with the infinite options open to me, what would I want to do? If I could do anything?

“I need to think about this,” I say, feeling hope for the first time in a while. I can see why Caleb sent the Pitmaster to me, and I’m immediately grateful for it.

He truly does care about me. I only wish it was enough to keep him from getting married.

“I want to be able to help people,” I say.

“That’s a good starting point,” the Pitmaster replies. She doesn’t smile, but her features do soften slightly. “We can brainstorm from there.”

Caleb sits in his office, holding his advisors various proposals in hand. They’ve each put forward their ideas for how to more seamlessly bring commoners into the court. None of the ideas are particularly illuminating. They seem as lost as Caleb did.

Maybe there simply is no good way to make this happen. The nobles are likely to hate this no matter how gently Caleb and the advisors broach the subject, or how slowly Caleb moves the plans forward.

A timid knock on his door draws Caleb’s attention up to Annabelle. She stands in the shadow of the doorway, a nervous smile on her face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Do you have a moment, my King?” she asks.

Things have remained tense between them since their last confrontation, when she had made her demands, requiring Caleb to release his harem – including Harper.

At least she has the decency to seem sorry for that behavior now.

“What for?” Caleb asks, trying to keep some of the annoyed bite out of his voice.

“The wedding decorations are all up now, my King. If you would, we could inspect them and make sure everything is satisfactory.”

Caleb hums, noncommittal. “Is that all you wish to talk about?”

“No, sir.” She lowers her head. “I owe you an apology.”