Astonishment remained the only thing Tristan felt. At least for a few short seconds. A deep frown appeared as he followed the lady's gracious movements with his eyes.
He took note of her details in those seconds but moved on quickly.
She looked to be in her early twenties. Possessed an oval-shaped face, and bob-styled hair. A pair of cold black eyes and an expression that would send shivers down the average person's spine.
Fortunately, Tristan was no average person.
"Who are you?" He meant to ask in a normal tone, but his words came out wrong since he glared at the lady and his tone spoke of hostility.
He had remained in that state too long, switching needed to be conscious.
The 5ft4 lady ignored him to sit on one of the three benches, and Tristan frowned even more profoundly but mostly kept his cool.
He couldn't make a move on her since the rules stated that no form of conflict between opponents was allowed outside of the arena.
Even if that didn't exist, he still had to watch out for her sword strapped to her waist by the belt holding the sheath.
He couldn't deny the air she carried about. She was no novice.
Throughout the years, Tristan had instinctively honed the ability to tell when a person had a certain amount of skill.
Their walking pace, body movement, gaze, and general demeanor.
He didn't need to search much to know she could stand her own in a fight.
A few minutes of silence passed as the cheers coming from the arena not too far, reached the room.
It would seem the spectators were having lots of fun watching two men break their bodies in a fight.
Unfortunately for Tristan's blood-lust, the battles scheduled for that day were not death matches.
Still, he could draw blood from his opponent. Only that fatal strikes were prohibited.
"You're the one everyone talks about." The lady finally broke the deafening silence between them. The occasional roars of the spectators being the only form of sound.
"You seem strong but angry. I can use that," she spoke again, crossing her leg. The black leather trousers she had on easily revealed the size of her thighs. She was fit.
Tristan turned to face her as she sat at the edge of the third bench, back straight and eyes closed. Creepy.
He noticed her accent. She wasn't from around there.
"Where are you from?" Tristan asked, ignoring her earlier words.
"The city of Blek. I don't know if you know it, but it's a small city northeast of the kingdom," she explained, not bothering to face him.
"Your name?" He asked. "I'm certain you know mine." Tristan emitted such hostility it battled with the domineering air the lady brought in.
"Call me Nida," she opened her eyes to look at his back for the first time. Her gaze seemed to pierce Tristan's back since he quickly felt uncomfortable.
He didn't like that she could make him feel that way pretty much instantly.
"Well Nida, you should watch your tongue," he re-positioned himself so he could easily see her. Tristan shot blades through his eyes. But she shrugged them rather casually. His glare was intense, but she could handle it.
"What has made a young man such as yourself so full of wrath," her accent suddenly became irritating and Tristan wished she would not ask questions.
"It's nothing that concerns you," he hissed.
Nida remained silent intently staring at him. Tristan didn't have to look to know he couldn't discern what she thought.
"You know, if you continue you might actually get to see my nakedness," he mocked, revealing an equally ridiculing smile, even if it remained cold.
Seeing that she made no reaction, he snorted and turned to back her again.
"I don't want my opponent to be in an emotional crisis during our battle." Tristan heard her stand and she made her way toward him. The sound of her boots clacking against the tiles dominated the room.
"They are usually weak in such instances, and I don't get to enjoy the fight," she crouched, speaking directly into his left ear.
Tristan's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, but he made no reaction. She stood and returned to her seat.
"But that really is the opposite." Fire burned in Tristan's chest. He disregarded the fact that she was a lady and chose to treat her equally.
"I'm best strongest when I'm angry," he declared, revealing a cold, emotionless smile. Tristan gazed directly Into Nida's eyes and both individuals stared at the abyss that was their souls.
"I see..." Nida muttered, taking him seriously. She had to admit his eyes were intense.
"If that's the case why don't we add something that makes our coming fight interesting?"
"What?" Tristan's features displayed his distaste, yet she continued.
"I've always found having a stake in the battle something exhilarating. It allows me to pull my best performance," she explained, allowing her lips to curve in a slight smile.
Her first show of emotions.
"I see..." Tristan felt weirded out. She somehow managed to move him from his dark state till he could speak normally.
"Yes. And since it's you, I feel a tad bit... brave," she revealed, keeping her soft smile.
Tristan furrowed his brows but remained silent.
"It's the usual. If either of us wins we get something from the other," she stated, and Tristan nodded.
"In that case. If you do win despite your obvious emotional instability; you get to use my body as a man would use a woman's body..." Her words stunned him.
"But if I do win, I get to sever that which makes you a man."
Silence
Tristan had been shocked into silence. He understood far well what she meant. And why she would even make such a rule was completely weird.
"That's an unfair bet," he didn't hesitate to complain even if he never gave his consent.
"What I get Is incomparable to what I lose for not winning," he shook his head believing she had genuinely run mad.
"Not really. From where I come we hold great values. Meeting a man I'm not legally given to ties me to you till either of us dies," she explained.
"It essentially means I become yours to use as you please. A life commitment."
Tristan couldn't fathom her words.
"You're crazy to stake that much on a simple fight," he remarked, showing his disdain.
"But many have agreed to this bet..." She revealed.
"And from what I see you've never managed to lose," Tristan titled his head finding that situation amusing. Things had taken an exciting turn quickly.
"Never," Nida affirmed, increasing the intensity of her smile. It creeped Tristan out.
"You're really out of your mind," Tristan shook his head.
"Why do you think I'd agree then? It seems too risky to even consider. I don't want to add my body part to one of your weird trophies."
"Truly it is. But doesn't the thought of losing something that important rile you up?" Her face lit up with the light of what resembled madness, but Tristan saw no wrong in it. She appealed to the darkness in his heart.
"It does," his chest thumped merely thinking of it. He didn't care about using her body. But losing a part of himself would definitely be risky.
Risky was exciting.
"I still don't accept though," Tristan broke the news of his final decision, and the deranged excitement In Nida's eyes died down to be replaced by coldness.