ZINA
"I believe I have entertained this charade of marriage proposals for too long a ti, and now, I shall make this abundantly clear to anyone who cares to hear...my bond with the Theta is taken in the highest regards, and know it tonight that she is to be the woman whom I intend to marry as my Luna Queen."
Zina’s heart was truly about to kick into an excited overdrive when the political implication of Daemon’s words settled within her like a cold thing. It was bad enough that he was disgracing a high ranked Alpha such as Alpha Gablon before his honored guests, but declaring himself taken for marriage was sure to render so alliances that would have been at hand even more unavailable.
The crowd that had been thrust in silence now chattered away, each person glancing at Zina as though they were trying to figure out what it was about her that was so special, before they would finally whisper sothing that must have been deaning to their companions.
Zina was like a show pig, thrusted in an entertainnt affair for children. But Daemon was like an unmoving block of ice—the totality of a man who never made any decision or declaration without being confident about it. Zina almost admired that trait about him, at the very least, for the fact that he was so unlike her hesitant self. But at that mont, she certainly wasn’t so sure about her admiration of that trait of his anymore.
But while she was still debating the rights and wrongs of Daemon’s public declaration, the man was already dragging out the weak and bloodied Alpha to the balcony that oversaw a mini square that currently housed the over two thousand participants in the tournant. At the sa ti, the castle’s tower bell struck once, signifying that it was midnight already.
The ti for the Tournant to start was already there.
Zina, together with the about hundred guests followed the trail of Alpha Gablon’s blood to the balcony. There, they stood behind Daemon on the wide expanse of area while looking down at the participants who looked to be quite confused as to why Daemon was dragging a handless and bloodied Alpha.
Daemon tossed Alpha Gablon over the rails of the balcony like he was nothing but an airy sack while he spoke in a voice that carried on through the mini square.
"Once again, you will be hearing my voice more than you should, but I suppose it’s beco inevitable...."
The competitors, n and won of different standing, size and rank all seed to lean in to hear what he was saying. Because it was true, to hear Daemon’s voice was a privilege, much less hearing him speak at a length.
"If you’re to beco a mber of my house, there are certain behaviours that are expected of you, in the sa manner that there are certain behaviours that are certainly not expected of you."
Zina stared at the crowd and while waiting for their reaction, she realized that the re fact that she could see usually detracted her from the things that she should truly see.
So she shut her eyes, and extended her senses to great heights as she had always done when she was blind.
Thump. Thump.
Thump, thump, thump.
Thump thump thump.
Thump... thump.
Those were the different irregular rhythms of heartbeat that she was able to pick with her hearing from the competitors, and all of them told her that the people standing before Daemon all held different ranges of fear and respect for the man that they wished to serve.
And that fear didn’t necessarily stem from the violence that Daemon had carried out... it was tied to just the re presence of himself.
"I know that mixed with you are miscreants, devious n, those who plot against my house, and those who wear a double face. I truly do not care for your identities, however there is sothing that you just know; and that is the fact that anyone who tries to harm my House in any way shall fall under my claw. And I won’t give a shit about their ranks or origin."
Zina swallowed, at the sa ti, her eyes flew open only to realize that as Daemon spoke, his eyes were on her.
My house... my mate.
It almost sounded as though Daemon was confident and sure of the fact that soone with the competitors was there to harm her. While that logic wasn’t out of place, Zina found herself examining the crowd as if she would find answers to the perplexing question.
She caught the bored eyes of Fionna, and the broody ones of Yaren, but that was it.
Marcus stepped forward as the supervisor of the tournant while she remained locked in a stare with Daemon. At the sa ti, Epsilons of the NorthSteed Pack wearing dark leather uniforms appeared, each bearing sothing like a huge white parchnt with ink engraved on it.
They stood at the front of the competitors while they raised their parchnt.
"Look carefully at the numbers attached to each parchnt and join the one that bears your group number."
Clamoring started as everyone moved to locate their group. Over ninety-three Epsilons stood off, each bearing the numbers one to ninety three. Zina tried to locate group thirty-two which was Fionna’s group, and when she did, she locked eyes with the woman and gave a knowing nod that said ’rember team work makes the dream work.’
But as soon as she was about to move her eyes from Fionna, her eyes t with dark brooding ones that belonged to a man that was of a small stature compared to the people that surrounded him.
While he did look smaller, sothing about his eyes buried in a mast of his brown hair held profound strength, and Zina found herself drawn to said eyes in a way that she didn’t understand. The man seed to stare back at her intently, and while that should have been unsettling, she didn’t feel that way.
"Now, you shall appoint a group leader on the spot. And you’ve two minutes to do so. Failure to appoint a group leader within the given ti fra will an that the map will be tossed to the entire group for the taking of any."
Zina startled at Marcus’ words, breaking eye contact with the man from Fionna’s group. Asking egoistic strangers to appoint a group leader was no different than asking a lion to eat a ho cat. The results were the sa; soone was sure to be disgruntled at the end of it all.
And disgruntlent was one ticket to losing the tournant.
As if on cue, fights broke out as many aired why they were the ones who deserved to be the group leader, and while the other was unfit to be such.
Daemon seed amused although it didn’t show in his expression, but after mastering the man’s uncanny eyes, Zina could see it for herself. She quickly extended and guided her hearing, hoping at the very least that Fionna’s group would not engage in such a debacle. But of course, no group was spared from the trap that had been carefully set for them.
On cue, she watched Fionna approach the small man with ominous eyes that had been locked in a stare with Zina and said, "We should appoint the smallest man in our group."
The man didn’t look amused, in fact, he didn’t express himself while the others in the group laughed at Fionna’s suggestion like it was the most comical thing they had heard in a long while.
Fionna didn’t seem to share their amusent as she tossed her braided ponytail behind her.
"Fine. Anyone who takes down in the next thirty seconds will be the leader instead. Be fast about it though, as you can see, we don’t have much ti."
They all took the bait of course. How could they not when it was a re woman that challenged them. About twenty in the group ca for her in a flurry ss of ego which only seed to exacerbate their eventual and most shaful downfall. It took twenty seconds, and the matter was done. And through it all, the intended leader in the question simply stared impassively.
Fionna raised her hand, beckoning on the Epsilon. "We have a leader." She said, pointing at the small man.
The Epsilon ca forward and said, "does everyone agree to The Sighter being the leader?"
No one objected, and soon after, the map was handed over to the man... the Sighter.
He was certainly not what Zina had expected him to look like after the South Heralders report, but Zina found herself smiling at how swift and quick on her feet Fionna had been with her decision. The two minutes was up almost imdiately, and to the over sixty groups that did not choose their leader, their maps were tossed to them while they scavenged for it like fools.
After that, Marcus announced in a billowing voice. "And now, the first stage of the tournant begins. Location of the tournant; the forest of mountains. You’ve got only forty eight hours. Also, the wolf who will erge as the Beta of the Arctic North at the end of the tournant shall have the chance to claim the Arctic Wolf from Eldric the Traitor."
Before Zina could fully process that information, Daemon was already tugging on her hand, leading her away from the competitors and the banquet hall entirely.
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