The crowd followed the steward's gaze and gasped. Spark, sitting in the private viewing area, felt the eyes of the entire arena on him.
His lips curved up into a smirk, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. The sunlight filtered through the towering pillars, casting intricate shadows across his face, giving him an almost ethereal appearance.
"Hey, hey, where are the honorifics?" Spark corrected nonchalantly, his voice carrying a casual authority. Though they were far away, his voice reached the arena below, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Forgive my rudeness, young lord," the steward hurriedly replied with a bow, sweat forming on his forehead. "I didn't know the young lord was present here. If I did, I would have come to welcome you."
"Didn't you deliberately not send an invitation to me?" Spark's tone was light, yet the accusation was clear, causing a ripple of murmurs among the crowd.
