Duke Draken rose slowly from his seat, the weight of authority settling over the arena like a suffocating fog. His cloak billowed slightly as he stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, eyes sharp and unreadable.
His presence alone was enough to silence even the loudest of hecklers.
"Julies Evans," he repeated, his voice clear and resonant. It echoed across the colosseum with quiet command.
My body stiffened. I could feel thousands of eyes on me—some filled with hope, others with disdain. Alice, beside me, was tense as well, though she didn't speak. Not now.
Draken's gaze didn't waver as it locked onto mine.
"You have defeated my daughter, Alice Draken, in a formal duel. Before witnesses. In accordance with the rules of this tournament."
He paused.
The crowd leaned forward in anticipation. This was it. The moment they wanted—judgment, punishment, perhaps even public disgrace.
But Draken's next words shattered that expectation.
"And for that, I commend you."
