Ella

This is fucked up, and I am pissed off.

I readjust my position in the ridiculously comfortable, high-backed throne I’ve been seated in and curl my fingers around my knee. Hot sunshine beats down into a pit of shallow sand that’s currently being raked while the people arriving to witness my mate’s battle find seats in the stands.

Above me, a pergola protects those sitting in the “royal box” from the sun, and before me is a beautifully decorated table full of food. Fine, sparkling wine glistens in the sunlight. Platters of exotic fruit, pastries, and cold meats sit untouched.

I’m not hungry. I couldn’t eat even if I...