"...Gray Vireux."
A calm voice called from the sidelines, and Gray immediately knew who it was, since only one person knew his whole name in this city.
He paused, turning his head ever so slightly.
Arderia stood there, arms crossed beneath her cloak, her hazel eyes locked onto him. Her lips were pressed tightly into a thin line, the look in her gaze unreadable, calm, but cold.
"That was too much," she said plainly.
"You didn't need to almost kill the instructor. This was a simple spar... You aren't in a gladiator arena, y'know?"
Gray turned to face her fully, slowly brushing a crimson drop off his cheek with the back of his glove.
Then, with those hypnotic, mismatched eyes of his, one a dull silver, the other faintly glowing, he stared into her as if she were a puzzle he'd already solved.
"I don't give a single fuck about that," he said flatly.
"Besides… It's his own damn fault. He forgot that he could also give up."
And just like that, he turned away.
