Roy accepted his fate.
One moment he left for food; the next, some woman had stolen his seat. And with the Colosseum jam-packed, he didn't bother arguing. It wasn't worth the hassle. Instead, he drifted through the aisles until he found a free spot, wedged between a pair of drunk merchants and a woman in dark attire whose posture was just too straight to be casual.
That woman.
Solace.
He hadn't forgotten the sniffing incident or the name she dropped like it was nothing. 'Solace'. The so-called Goddess of War. A name known across the continent, yet supposedly no one knew her face. Roy was still ninety per cent sure she was some nutcase pulling his leg.
And yet…
"There," Solace said suddenly, voice calm but firm, eyes locked on the arena below. "See the boy in blue? His foot placement is all wrong. Left leg too wide, right arm stiff. His strikes will lack flow. He'll be punished within ten moves."
Roy slouched further in his chair, chewing the last of his skewer. "…Or maybe he's just nervous."
"No," she replied, tone sharp. "Nervousness causes hesitation. His flaw is structural. "Learnt wrong, ingrained deep."
Roy rolled his eyes. "Right. Structural flaws. Totally something the crowd cares about while they're screaming their lungs out."
She didn't react. Her gaze stayed on the boy in blue as the fight carried on with steel clashing, sparks flying, and the Colosseum roaring in waves of noise.
But Roy did see what she was talking about; he also noticed it, but why would he talk out loud like a weird person?
Seven strikes. Eight. Nine.
On the tenth exchange, the boy overextended; his leg slid just as she predicted, and his opponent drove a blade into his chestplate with a decisive crack.
The crowd erupted.
Roy was slightly impressed that she actually noticed it, but anyone that knew fighting naturally would also understand it too. Slowly, he turned toward her. "…Lucky guess."
Her lips curved in the faintest of smiles. "Of course."
But still, he just wanted to watch the match with no nuisance.
Roy groaned and leaned back, covering his face with one hand. "…Great. I left my seat for food and ended up sitting next to a human spoiler machine."
"Or a teacher," she countered, finally shifting her gaze to him. Her eyes were steady, unreadable. "Depends how you see it."
Roy blinked at her, deadpan. "…A teacher who sniffs strangers and critiques a poor guy's sword swings; how despicable?"
A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she tilted her head. "You're amusing."
Roy muttered, "Funny, you're annoying," before slumping again.
Another match began. This time, Solace didn't speak right away. She watched in silence, then said, "He hesitates before striking. He's afraid of hurting his opponent. Awww."
Roy raised a brow. "So what? Maybe he's got a conscience. Not everyone's here to maim people.
"However, in the Colosseum," Solace said, her tone like iron beneath silk, "hesitation is death. Mercy is a noose you tie around your own neck."
Roy's jaw tightened slightly, though he hid it with another bite of his food. "…You make everything sound so damn fatalistic."
"Reality is fatalistic," she replied smoothly. Her gaze slid back to him. "And you know that better than most, don't you?"
Roy stiffened. Huh?
She said it so casually, like it was obvious. Like she could see straight through him.
And so to retaliate, he forced a fake laugh. "…You're really something, you know that? Acting like you've got me all figured out. It pisses me off."
Her smile didn't fade. If anything, it deepened. "Not figured out. I simply recognised."
Roy looked away, scowling faintly as the crowd erupted for another blow in the arena. He hated how her words lingered, how they pressed against the back of his mind.
"…Curiosity's overrated," he muttered.
Roy sat slouched in his seat, arms hanging loose as the crowd erupted for a flashy exchange in the arena. Sparks flew, blades clashed, but to him it all felt the same: noise and spectacle. He bit into the last of his snack stick, chewing lazily.
Beside him, Solace leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand as she watched intently. "Sloppy footwork," she murmured. "His. His stance is wide. Easy to break."
Roy let out a half-snort. "Pretty sure the crowd doesn't care. They just saw fireworks. That's all that matters."
She finally turned her head toward him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Crowds cheer for noise. Fighters cheer for flawlessness. Which are you?"
Roy raised a brow. "…I dunno, maybe the guy who came here to relax and eat food? Not the lunatic giving commentary like she's running the match."
Her smile didn't fade. "Relaxation doesn't suit you."
Roy blinked. "…Excuse me?
In that particular situation, Roy made the decision that he disliked her. When you encounter a group of individuals, for instance, you automatically choose the one who seems like the best fit to be your friend, the one who looks and acts obnoxious, and so on.
She in the scenario is the annoying one.
Solace broke the unsettling ease. "You slouch when you watch," she said, her voice low, like she wasn't speaking to him so much as diagnosing him. "Not from laziness, but habit."
Roy turned his head slowly, brow raised, and gave an exaggerated response. "…Right"
Her eyes never wavered. "Your food's finished, but you're still holding the stick. Not because you forgot, but because it gives your hands something to do, and also your gaze never lingers on one thing for too long, but when you do focus, it's sharp, like you're memorising the cracks in the stone."
Roy blinked at her, deadpan. "…Oh, I see?"
She tilted her head slightly. "You'd rather be in there."
For a second, Roy was quiet. Then he scoffed, leaning back. "...Lady, if I wanted to be in there, I would be. Instead, I'm up here trying to enjoy myself until someone stole my seat."
Solace chuckled softly, the sound oddly warm. "Maybe fate put you here instead."
Roy turned his head, giving her a flat look. "…Yeah, fate's real generous. Stick me next to a stranger who thinks sniffing people is an acceptable introduction."
"Still upset about that?"
"Yes! That's my private space. You invaded it."
She only smiled again, calm as ever, before looking back at the fight. "You'll get over it."
Roy muttered under his breath, "…Unbelievable." He tried to focus on the match again, but he couldn't help the way his eyes drifted toward her, this strange woman with the calm of a veteran and the arrogance of someone who knew more than she let on.
And despite himself, he knew one thing for certain.