| Chapter 17: Spare Him! Spare Him!

“Wow!”

The crowd stomped their feet in excitement, their cheers fueling the Albinin lion’s frenzy. Starved for days to enhance its aggression, the lion roared ferociously, prowling toward Alexei.

Armed only with a spear and a round shield, Alexei kept his distance, watching the beast’s movements carefully.

Then the lion charged, a blur of muscle and fury. Alexei hurled his spear, but the lion moved faster than expected, and the weapon grazed its side, leaving a shallow wound.

The lion snarled, the scent of its own blood sending it into a greater rage. With a powerful leap, it pounced on Alexei. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed, and snatched up his spear to defend himself. But the lion’s jaws clamped down on his arm before he could strike.

Even as pain shot through him, Alexei refused to release his grip on the spear. Summoning all his strength, he drove the blade into the lion’s neck. The beast recoiled, releasing his arm, and Alexei used the opening to climb onto its back.

Realizing it couldn’t shake its rider off by running, the lion reared on its hind legs and thrashed violently. The crowd gasped as Alexei, gripping the lion’s mane, struggled to maintain his balance.

Finally, the lion succeeded in throwing Alexei to the ground. The audience held their breath as the beast roared and lunged for its prey. Alexei barely managed to roll out of the way, but the lion’s claws raked his side, drawing blood.

In the royal box, Natasha sat rigidly, her expression a mask of composure. Yet beneath her calm facade, one hand gripped the folds of her dress tightly, trembling every time Alexei moved.

“That’s it! Finish him off! Natasha, this is the end for that wretched slave. Ha!”

Sergei shouted gleefully, grabbing Natasha’s trembling hand.

But just as the lion prepared to deliver the killing blow, Alexei sprang to his feet. Drawing the dagger tucked into his belt, he drove it straight into the lion’s heart as its jaws sank into his shoulder.

For a moment, the arena was silent except for the beast’s dying growl. Then, with a heavy thud, the blood-soaked white-maned lion collapsed.

“Alexei! Alexei!”

The crowd erupted in cheers as Alexei staggered to his feet, raising his bloodied arm and the dagger in triumph.

“Alexei Petrov! Alexei Petrov!”

Their cries soon morphed into a singular chant.

“Spare him! Spare him!”

The spectators awaited Sergei’s decision. As the ruler of the games, he would signal the outcome. A thumbs-up meant the condemned would live, while a thumbs-down would seal their fate.

“Damn it. That wretched slave ruined everything.”

Sergei muttered under his breath, releasing Natasha’s hand.

This was not the outcome he had envisioned. He had spent a fortune to bring the Albinin lion for its debut, planning for Alexei to serve as its sacrificial victim. Now, all that gold and effort had gone to waste.

Worse yet, Sergei had publicly declared that survival in the arena would grant freedom. Reneging on that promise would tarnish his reputation.

“Brothe.,”

Natasha spoke for the first time during the match.

“Given his condition, it’s unlikely he’ll last long even if spared. Why not uphold your word? Grant him his life, share the lion’s meat with the people, and win their favor.”

Sergei scowled, clearly displeased.

“You want me to spare him?”

He had already resigned himself to the fact that sparing Alexei was inevitable, but Natasha’s suggestion irritated him.

“Yes. While letting someone who dared insult me live might tarnish my honor…”

Natasha lowered her eyes, her lashes trembling slightly.

“Natasha…”

Sergei blinked, surprised. He hadn’t considered how his public accusations against Alexei might backfire. If he killed Alexei, he would appear to break his promise. If he spared him, Natasha’s reputation would suffer.

What do I do now?

Sergei’s face twisted in frustration. It wasn’t concern for Natasha that made him hesitate—it was his inability to accept either outcome. Neither option satisfied him.

“Brother, I am fine. Your honor should always come first,” Natasha said softly, her voice steady despite the storm within. “That man won’t last long. I will take comfort in that. And don’t let the death of the Albinin lion trouble you. I’ve heard that after the emperor of the Lumane Empire held a beast hunt and distributed lion meat to the spectators, his popularity soared. The people never forget a king who shares such rare bounty with them.”

“Natasha, you’re always thinking of me…”

Sergei’s face lit up with satisfaction. The burden of feigned remorse toward Natasha melted away, leaving him feeling lighter and triumphant.

Rising from his seat, Sergei raised his right arm high, and as his thumb pointed skyward, a thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd.

He anticipated chants celebrating his wisdom and magnanimity. Yet, to his shock, the name resounding through the arena was not his own.

“Long live Alexei! Long live Alexei!”

Standing in the blood-soaked center of the arena, Alexei turned to face the royal box. His gaze bypassed Sergei’s contorted expression and landed directly on Natasha.

For a fleeting moment, their eyes met before Natasha lowered hers. Her trembling lashes betrayed a storm of emotions—rage, relief, or perhaps both.

“He’s alive. That’s what matters.”

Though the same thought echoed in both their hearts, it traveled no bridge to unite them. Alexei’s eyes dropped to the hem of Natasha’s silk gown, lingering on the creases left by her tightly clenched hand.

* * *

“Where has he gone?”

Natasha asked her maid, Renna, as the young woman helped undo her ornate hairpins. Her tone carried a deliberate edge of irritation, fitting for someone in her position. A disgraced prisoner, freed after an unspeakable crime against her, was now loose. It was natural for her to be indignant, and no one would question her for seeking his whereabouts.

“Goodness, my lady. I never thought that man could stoop so low,”

Renna said, concern softening her features as she leaned closer. “But I’ve asked around… and no one has seen him anywhere.”

“No one? What do you mean?”

Natasha’s brow furrowed deeply.

“It’s strange. Lord Sergei commanded his release, and yet, no one outside the arena saw him leave. It’s as if he vanished.”

* * *

That evening, a grand banquet table gleamed with dishes showcasing the finest cuts of lion meat. Natasha sat beside Sergei, unusually attentive and sweet as she poured him a glass of fine wine.

“Let me pour for you, Brother. You’ve been through so much today,” Natasha said, her voice honeyed.

Sergei, delighted by her uncharacteristic affection, grinned broadly.

“Bah, what do you mean, ‘so much’? It’s you who endured the real ordeal, watching such a brutal spectacle you despise so much.”

“You’re right. It was difficult to bear such savagery,” Natasha replied, feigning unease. “But… what of him? Where did he go? I can’t help but worry he might return someday.”

She fluttered her lashes, her tone painted with concern. Sergei, after draining his glass in a single gulp, smirked and leaned closer.

“Don’t worry, Natasha. He’s back in the dungeons where he belongs. Just as you said, he’s too injured to survive for long. I give him a few days at most.”

“The dungeons?” Natasha asked, her voice faltering. “But you promised him freedom…”

“I promised him life, not liberty.”

Sergei replied with a cruel laugh.

“Death, after all, is the ultimate freedom from the body, isn’t it?”

Grabbing the bottle, he poured himself another glass, drinking straight from it as his Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp. Natasha’s wide eyes glistened as her trembling hands gripped the edge of the table.

Inside, a fire ignited—a resolve that would not falter.