And I roll my eyes. "I see you get around."
"My realm has a very open view of sexuality," he says. "The focus is on enjoyment and consent, a beneficial experience to all parties. The things some of these women can do. You should see one day."
"Um. No thank you." I have no interest in his offer, yet a part me wishes my world was more like this one. Where woman don’t have to struggle with consent and assault throughout their lives. I’ve known a few, back at the Roxy, who fought every day to protect themselves from abusive boyfriends and nasty bosses. It scarred them. Perhaps, if they could have grown up here, things would be different.
We leave the women behind, and the streets begin to clutter with more people, all pushing toward one destination: An arena, at least ten stories high, built from white pillars covered in purple vines. Dean escorts me in, to the second level, and what appears to be the best seating, a private box overlooking the area below. "The perks of being a prince," he says, as we take our seats on a plush burgundy couch and slaves bring us grapes and wine on silver platters. I hate benefitting from the injustice, but I know I can do nothing yet, so I accept the food graciously, thanking the Fae and making sure they know they are appreciated. A part of me wants to resist, decline everything they bring me, but I know that will make them more worried than happy.
Plopping a grape in my mouth, I study the arena below. It is a pool of clear water, dotted with islands of white rock. An announcer calls out, "And here she is, lords and ladies, the unmatched champion of Moonlight, the Dancer of Waves, Callisia!"
The crowd, hundreds of men and women and children, roar in applause, causing the very sofa beneath me to shake. The energy is intoxicating, but I worry for what's about to happen. "These aren’t gladiator games, are they? Where people kill each other? Because if so, I’m not interested."
Dean smirks and gives me a wink. "Don’t worry, Princess. This is far, far more interesting."
I frown, still skeptical, and turn my attention back to the arena. Callisia enters through a steel gate, wearing black armor that hugs her curves and reveals her legs and stomach. Of course… so practical. She hops from stone to stone, leaping further than any mortal human could, and, once in the center, pulls a long red cloth from her belt.
"And now," says the announcer, "the Reaper!"
Suddenly, a giant fish leaps out of the water, it’s large mouth and razor sharp teeth aimed at Callisia. The performer dodges, her red cloth drifting behind her. The fish falls back into the water. Its body reminds me of a shark, but its fins are long and wide, making me think of a manta ray.
Dean nudges me. "First time seeing a Windshark, huh?"
"Yeah," I say, my eyes glued to Callisia as she avoids attack after attack, luring the Windshark with the red fabric. It reminds me of bullfighters back on earth. But because Callisia is a vampire, she evades and maneuvers in ways no human can, leaping over the arena, twisting and twirling in the sky, a streak of red and black.
"They live in the oceans of Inferna," says Dean, pointing at the Windshark, "but sometimes they travel upstream, through the rivers. The fact that they survive in fresh water makes them one of the deadliest predators in the land. A live one sells for quite the fortune."
I nod, clapping as Callisia jumps into the water, then back out as the Windshark bites at her feet but never touches flesh. The event fills me with adrenaline, and I barely stay in my seat.
"Isn't this fun?" asks Dean.
"There’s a beauty to it. And I can’t even imagine the skill it takes to survive. I had imagined something far more barbaric."
"I never fail to surprise. How about—"
"Prince Dean!" a young Shade runs into the private box, panting. "I’m sorry Your Grace, but I have urgent news," he says.
Dean stands, concern flashing in his eyes. "Tell me."
"The north-eastern caravan…"
"Yes?"
"It’s gone, Your Grace. Raiders. Took all the goods and killed all but a few men who escaped."
"But that’s a new route. There is no way they could know…" Dean rubs his chin, his eyes growing dark. "Make sure the families of those who perished are provided for. Now go."
The man bows and leaves, as Dean sits back down, trembling with rage. "It appears Fenris was right. There is a spy in my realm. How… how could I have allowed this?"
I touch his hand, hoping to calm him. "Don’t blame yourself. The spy could be anyone in a realm of thousands."
He shakes his head. "Only those with power knew about the route. And Keepers know more than most."