My throat feels constricted. Crushed.
Gwyn is working over me, and I see fear in her eyes.
I can't help but feel like a crumpled doll that's been stepped on by countless feet.
The cook's boy's fists have left indents that feel like battering rams against my ribs, and- despite all this. I pity him.
He was just trying to get me back for what happened at breakfast, and honestly I would have done the same if anyone had taken my portion back in the burned city.
Violet eyes swishes into the room, her skirt swirling around her ankles like water in a pot.
" Lord Ferox asks an audience of Mara Northdaughter if she feels well enough."
If I had the energy, I would ask why she asks for me with the surname of the so-called ' illegitimate nobles' the sons and daughters of nobility who had been born out of the house.
Gwyn and Violet Eyes brush me into a flowy tunic, and they cover me with powder that makes me smell sweet.
A guard carries me out of the house and to the arena where Leona was dragged from just yesterday, and I wonder why they are taking me to this house of death. Gwyn is walking beside me, which makes me feel better, but I'm still nervous.
We pass the cook and her children, and a chill runs down my spine when I see the veils of mourning draped over their shoulders.
Once we are inside the arena, the guard carries me into the stands and up the stairs, into a lavish box that smells fresh, and is full of cool air that runs against my skin gently.
I look up, and am stunned by the view.
Lord Ferox is standing behind a gilded throne, his eyes fixed on me.
Sitting in the throne is one of the most heavily gilded people that I have ever seen.
Tightly coiled brown curls are tied back in bejeweled strands, flowing down almost to the person's waist.
They wear a dark purple veil that covers much of their upper body- face included.
Their attire consists of a Tyrian-purple stola embroidered with golden flora and fauna from ankle to waist, and the patterns seem to move before my very eyes.
One pale hand reaches for me, and the guard sets me down at the foot of the golden throne.
The hand touches the bruises under my chin, and I lift my face to allow access. Something tells me that this person should not be trifled with.
Lord Ferox clears his throat.
" your Majesty, ruler of the stars, the land, and whatever lies beyond the sea, I would ask thee to authenticate my false-born child, Mara Northdaughter."

Time nearly stops for me.
All the pieces come together.
Nearly eleven years of my mother grumbling about how she never wanted me, all the times she complained about how my father ran away from responsibility.
I always assumed that my father died when I was little, and that was why he wasn't around for me..
But if I'm the daughter of Lord Ferox...

The person in the throne lifts the veil covering their face, and I am treated to yet another surprise.
Their face is made up to the point where it looks ridiculous- with heavy coats of rouge on their squared cheekbones, and glimmering kohl surrounds their almond brown eyes, but I can't ignore the golden shimmer on their face, most likely gold dust, signifying how wealthy they are to the world even more than the embroidered stola does.
Lord Ferox holds his breath, his fingers tapping on the handle of his gladius.
" Majesty? Will you authenticate Mara's birth?"
His voice is shaking.
The Majesty smiles, their blood red lips distorting into a smile.
" yes."
For the third time today, I feel floored.
I was expecting a high, bird-like voice, but the voice is gravelly, tough.. More like leather than silk.
" Mara Northdaughter, from this day on, you shall take up the house colors of your father, Ferox Batravian of the West Cities."
My head is spinning, and I barely notice the crowd below us start to roar.
I look down, into the circle of sand, and I make eye contact with the cook's son.
Even from up here I can see his shaking.
He is terrified.
Lord Ferox smiles stiffly.
" he tried to kill you. Now I give you control over whether or not he lives."
I try not to think too hard about what this will mean for the cook's child.
Down in the arena, a guard hands the son a dinky-looking knife, and a gladiator appears.
He is obviously not from around here.
Unlike the pale skin and medium eyes seen in the people around me, he looks like a copper statue brought to life. He wears a silver shoulder guard, and something that looks like netting around his waist. His dark braids flow almost past his waist, and glitter in the sun.
He holds a net and something that looks like a giant, three-pronged fork.
The Majesty stands, and outstretches their hand.
" I present the Warrior Auriel!" the Majesty screams, their voice cracking midway through the word ' warrior'.
'Auriel' turns to our box and bows so deeply that the tips of his braids touch the sandy earth of the arena.
" Today celebrates a daughter returned to father's arms!" the Majesty screams.
" I present to you all, Mara Northdaughter of House Batravian!!!"
The crowd loses their minds, deafening me with their approving roars.
Lord Ferox leans down.
" stand up little one, let the people see who you are."
I feel Gwyn lift me to my feet, supporting me.
The crowd goes nuts again, and the Majesty stands up beside me.
The crowd goes silent, and the Majesty speaks, voice dropping from its relatively high voice.
" Citizens of the Beating heart! Five years ago, I- Emperor Emidius Stolo of the Southern City- freed you poor, unfortunate people from the tyranny of the previous pretender!"
Far below us, I think I hear someone snort.
" Today, our beloved Lord Ferox has presented us with his darling child! For that, we must rejoice!"
Lord Ferox coughs awkwardly behind me, and I smile.
The Emperor is making it sound like Lord Ferox has known of my existence since I was born, but to be honest, I don't think either of us is sure if we are related or not.
Either way, I am now the daughter of an undoubtedly powerful man.