The Bull's Eyes

From the start, it was kill or be killed in the arena. Little exception was given to the youthful participants, such as Leon. At the inexperienced age of 15, facing those who had more training, experience, and were stronger lent very little in the way of odds to him. His rise to fame was the story of the underdog. The zero who went to hero, kicking off half a decade of a steady career and fame.

At the end of his first year in the arena, when he had caught the interest of the audience in full, he was pitted against El Toro, the reigning champion for 20 years before him. And to the excitement of the viewers, he had overcome the older man and came to be known as ‘The Rising Sun of the Arena.”

Now, after maintaining his title and playing the role of a beloved celebrity, his mistress decided to grant him a companion. A pretty thing to satisfy his needs and desires. A partner to breed the next generation of her fighters with.

According to Mama Maddie, Leon owed his privilege to her. She was his initial sponsor when he came out of those early battles alive. And she made the investment in buying the rights to him and his victories in full just before the championship battle that raised him to stardom.

It was a cushy enough life for the most part, yes. The more he won, the greater his fame grew. The more famous he was, the more valuable he was considered. And when you were valuable, you were expensive.

In the present day, he was only expected to fight in special tournaments to maintain his title. And only against the best of the best. Otherwise, all he had to do was keep up with his training and do what Mama Maddie wanted, like attending social events and charming the crowd. And now, choosing a bride was what she wanted him to do.

Of course, he couldn’t just choose anyone who caught his eye. She had to be preapproved and from a gladiatorial lineage. Occasionally, the candidates were gladiators themselves, but most were raised to fit into more traditional dynamics. A good number of them were provided with an education of some level. At least enough to read and write.

For weeks, Leon was set up to meet one candidate after another, though he couldn’t get past some of their eagerness at the prospect of marriage with him to bring ‘honor onto their lines.’ The more timid ones were just hard to get a feel for, some even seeming a bit frightened of him.

One day after another unproductive matching, Mama Maddie sighed, saying, “None of those lovey little things catch your eye, darling?”

Leon scoffed and shrugged, replying, “What can I say, Mildred? My ideal woman only exists in my mind.”

She chuckled, her lips quirking in a slight sneer before returning to the business-like grin she normally wore. “That is too bad...Although maybe the next candidate might be able to change your mind.”

Leon rolled his eyes, “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

“Let’s just say...who she is may be of interest to you.” Her eyes narrowed, and she licked her thumb, bringing it to wipe a crumb from his cheek. He tensed up at her touch, and she continued, “If not, I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad for Mama to choose for you. Don’t you agree?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away as she caressed his cheek. “Right. You always have a great sense when it comes to your investments, don’t you?”

“Yes. Though beyond my business savviness, do you know why?” she smirked, “Motherly instinct.” She bopped his nose, “You are my boy after all.”

A few weeks later, the next meeting came. He’d lost track of time while training, so he skipped out on bathing and headed straight for the drawing room where they were set up. He was certain that, regardless, it would be the same story as all the others.

Patting his sweaty face with a towel in hand, he burst into the drawing room, curtly speaking to the woman who’d risen from the sofa at his entrance. “Sorry for being late. I was...” He paused when his eyes met the woman’s.

They were a golden-brown that he was sure he’d seen before somewhere. Even the half-mooned spectacles sitting on the bridge of her nose couldn’t obscure them enough as they narrowed and flicked over his body, almost giving the same disapproving glare Mama Maddie’s lavender ones did at his disheveled state with sword still in hand.

He scoffed at the woman’s look and walked past her as she held out a hand, sinking into his seat and reaching for a handful of sandwiches from the spread on the table. Mama Maddie hissed under her breath. “Leonard. You forget the manners I’ve worked so terribly hard to instill in you.”

Before he could open up his mouth, the woman spoke first. “It’s fine. I can stand poor manners. The stench, on the other hand, almost brings the same nausea as the bloodied arena. I’m not too fond of that stench. We’re short on time,” she shifted into a curtsy, spreading her skirt’s folds wide as she stooped into a slight bow, “I am Fae de Luna Blanca.”

“Luna Blanca?” He grunted, the house name sounding very familiar. He was pretty sure it was a Duchy with a major investment in the arena’s competitions. “Wait. If you use that last name, that means you’re directly related to your Master, right?”

“Duke de Luna Blanca is my grandfather, yes. On my mother’s side,” her eyes flicked toward Mama Maddie for a moment. “Grandfather sends his regards, Mother.”

Leon paused in munching on his sandwich and looked towards his mistress, “Wait. I didn’t know you had children, Mil—I mean, Madam Maddison. How come I’ve never seen her around?” He looked between the two women, their heart-faced shapes, and voluminous waves similar.

“Oh, it was long before I married my late husband. I had quite the love affair with my father’s champion,” she chuckled, “He was quite furious at the time. But quickly grew to love and spoil his precious granddaughter.”

“Shame that doesn’t change much in regard to my position, does it, mother?” Fe’s eyes narrowed at Mama Maddie, “I have been given the finest education and every comfort, yet I’m still expected to play into this system all because my father did before me.”

Mama Maddie chuckled, “Of course, my father is a bit too prone to spoiling his granddaughter. Though, aside from the dowery offering, it is appealing to think that I’d get to keep my daughter close after all these years of separation.”

Leon looked between them through a stretch of time before clearing his throat, “Alright. Well, my name’s—”

“Leonard. The Rising Sun of the Arena,” Fae stated flatly as she sat down, shrugging off an emerald shawl, opening a book to a marked page, and continued, “You were a nameless orphan brought to this country as part of the spoils of the War of the East. You’ve made quite a name for yourself since you,” she paused for a moment, her jaw tightening before she cleared her throat and continued, ”Since you defeated Juan El Toro. More commonly known as the Bull of the Arena.”

Leon chuckled once she finished, saying, “Wow. You really did your homework, miss. You must be a big fan.” The narrowing of those goldish-brown eyes piqued something in him for a moment before they returned to a neutral mask. He sighed, shifting to cross his legs and rest his head on his elbow, his eyes focusing on the book in her hand, “That a stat book or something?

“It’s my journal. For the research I did on you and all my suitors.”

“Suitors?” He piqued his head up, “You mean other than me? Ha...I’m almost jealous. Then again, I guess it’s good you’re keeping your options open, sweetheart. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t work out between us, considering who your ma is. No offense.” He glanced over at Mama Maddie before returning his gaze to Fae.

For a moment, he let his eyes flicker over her figure, taking a better look at her curves and plump, pinkish lips. She could have opted to doll herself up a bit more before their meeting, but there was no denying that he felt something looking at her.

Fae let out a short, almost bitter, chuckle, drawing Leon’s attention back to her piercing eyes. “It’s bold of you to believe that you’re my first choice, Rising Sun...I can see why the girls swoon after you,” she said, rolling her eyes. She stood, turning towards the exit.

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going? The full hour’s not up yet,” said Leon, his eyes following her and narrowing in on her behind as she reached the door.

She paused for a moment, saying, “I knew the outcome of this meeting from the start. This was just a meaningless formality.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s never really been up to us. All we have is the illusion of choice,” she glanced back at him, “Something you could be sure of, though, is that you’re not my type. I prefer mature men who are older than me.” She turned back towards the exit and continued, allowing the door to swing shut heavily.

He froze up, his eyes widening at her blunt declaration. As soon as Fae disappeared through the door, Mama Maddie burst into laughter, and his head jerked in her direction. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s nothing much. Although it’s not like she’s that much older than you!” Her eyes narrowed, and a smirk spread across her face, “Oh my. It seems like our guest has left quite the impression on you.”

His eyes widened when he realized his face had heated up, and he cleared his throat, looking away. “It’s from training earlier. Don’t get the wrong idea. She’s as much my type as I am hers. But it’s not like that surprising. She’s your daughter after all.”

“You may look like a man now, but you truly are still a shy boy on the inside, aren’t you?” Mama Maddie chuckled, “Very well. I suppose it’s time to start setting up the next candidate, right?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes landing on the shawl left behind where Fae had just sat, forgotten. He shifted, standing up and plucking it from the cushion.

“Unless you have an appropriate bride in mind?” continued Mama Maddie, watching his every move.

His fist clenched around the shawl, and he scoffed, “You know, I don’t care. Pick whoever you want. Just don’t bug me about it ‘til the wedding.” He turned on his heel, storming off with the delicate cloth still in hand.

Later, after some more training, Leon retreated to his room, collapsing on his plush, silk-laden bed, muscles sore and aching. His soul was even more exhausted from the matching appointment and clashing with that woman.

For a moment, he thought back to Fae. Muttering to himself about her difficult personality, although well-endowed figure, rolled around in his mind. He sighed, jumping up to change and force her out of his mind.

He emptied his pockets, pausing as his hand wrapped around the shawl that was bunched up in there. Pulling it out, his mind went back to her again, his mind wandering to picture her in nothing but it wrapped around her wrists. Hesitantly, he brought it to his nose and took a whiff. It smelled like floral teas and books.

Leon had a dream one night. One that he had often. He was back in the arena, hiding under some rubble, with his arm dislocated and multiple wounds inflicted on him. Several of them were gashes that would become the scars on his chest.

“I can do this...I can do this. I’ve done this before,” he gritted his teeth, before popping his arm back into place and crying out.

Of course, it alerted El Toro to his hiding place, and a moment later, the rubble was lifted by the large, muscular man, being tossed aside as he stared Leon down with wild eyes, although they were devoid of whatever color they used to be, and his skin was pale. He was a dead man, walking, visiting Leon time and time again to remind him of what he did.

Hobbling. It was the hobbling. That was his weakness. A bad leg that Leon kicked at, making the man collapse forward and land on Leon’s blade. He gave out a final cry as his blood splattered across the younger warrior’s face.

As Leon began passing out from blood loss of his own, somewhere in the distance, he could hear a girl scream out, “Papa! No!”

Leon woke up, nude and tangled in his silk sheets, Fae’s shawl still wrapped tightly around his arm from the previous night. He had it for weeks now, though he considered he’d have to get rid of it since it was the day of his wedding.

After breakfast and a rose-scented bath, his attendants dressed him up in white and golden cloth, the cut emphasizing his muscular frame. It wasn’t long before he left for the temple where the ceremony would take place.

There, Mama Maddie’s friends, or rather business rivals, were gathered with their own champions as guests. After this, many would be driven to be granted the same ‘privilege’ and put in more work into their battles just for a taste of companionship.

When the music began, everyone’s attention was drawn to the end of the aisle, Leon’s eyes widening as Fae came into view, her eyes standing out even without her spectacles. A large, white dress consumed her figure, trailing behind her as an older, graying man escorted her to the altar. Duke de Luna Blanca.

When they came to the altar, it became clear that Fae could barely see anything in front of her, her disoriented gaze trying to meet Leon’s. What did it mean that he found her somewhat beautiful this way? With that look of frustration on her face.

Once the vows and rings were exchanged, he took her lips, finding them soft and tasting almost like lavender. But before he could pull away, she gripped his sleeve, keeping him close enough to murmur against his lips for a moment, “Time to put on a show, right? They’ll eat it up if you hold me close as we walk down the aisle, you know.”

He paused and nodded, his heart fluttering somewhat as she wrapped her arms around his. Even if she acted like she was doing this for the public, he knew she was using him as a crutch, and he couldn’t help how much his pride swelled at the feeling of her dependence on him. She was right, though. They were eating it up.

As the reception wound down, Mama Maddie suggested that “his bride looked tired and he should lead her to their room for ‘rest.’”

What was once Leon’s space alone was now decorated with rose petals and freshly lit candles, softly illuminating the room. He locked the door and pulled Fae towards the bed, pushing her down onto the pure white, soft sheets, leaning over her as he took her wrists and pushed them over her head, pinning them against the plush pillows.

He paused once he was looking directly down at her, his mind flashing back to that dream. That memory. The longer he looked down at his new wife, the more El Toro’s eye colors filled in.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice brought him back to the present, “Don’t tell me that you don’t know what to do next. You’re an adult. You know how sex works, right?”

Before he could answer, her wrists slipped out of his grip and pushed him, flipping their positions so that she was straddling his hips. His hands automatically went to her thighs as he gasped in surprise.

Fae shifted, her hands sliding under his shirt, drawing another gasp as her fingers slide against his skin. She leaned in, whispering in his ear, “Don’t tell me that I’m going to have to do everything myself in this marriage. If I’m going to be stuck breeding with you, the least you could provide me is some pleasure.”

Fae leaned in, her eyes shutting, her full chest pressing against his. Leon’s body heated up as their lips met once again, deeper than at the temple. His body heated up on contact, his heart racing as they pressed together over and over again.

She began trailing kisses along his jaw and neck, his own hands sliding under her gown and along her hips. Her hands slid further and further down, fingers clutching around his belt, making him quiver.

Leon pulled himself away from the edge of fully giving in. Away from the temptation of ignoring all the links that were now forming inside his head. “Wait. Please, wait,” he said, gripping her wrists tightly and stopping her, “Be honest with me. Your eyes...Why are your eyes the same as the Bull’s?”

She paused, her jaw tensing, “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, “The Bull—Juan El Toro...He was my father.”

Leon froze up, his eyes locking with the tear-filled ones of the beautiful woman on top of him. His new wife. The daughter of his mistress and the man he murdered all those years ago in the arena.

Tears continued to well up under her shimmering golden-brown eyes. Her body was shaking as they dripped down onto his scarred chest.