After her father had left, the shock finally was replaced with anger. [b]”BY THE GODS!”[/b] she cursed angrily, grabbing a few scrolls and tossing them across the room. She growled as well, eyes like fire and face getting redder. [b]”I am NOT some ox you can hook up to a cart and expect to pull just because you tell me to!”[/b] she shouted, ripping the gold cord from her hair along with all the carefully placed combs to keep it piled up. Her curtain of wavy blonde hair fell down her back, and she ran her fingers through it vigorously, making sure every piece of jewelry had fallen from it. One of her father’s servants had seemingly heard the commotion and ran to the doorway, looking at her with wide eyes. She might have resembled one of the lions of the fighting sand. Her hair her mane, eyes fierce and teeth and nails bared. 

[b]”M-m’lady?”[/b] he questioned, looking like he wanted to run. 

[b]”Does it look like I want to be bothered?! Shoo! Be gone with you!”[/b] she said, and the man gladly obliged, running off. Ateret huffed loudly before falling into her father’s chair and placing her head on her arms that were folded on front of her. 

Several moments passed wherein she took deep breaths to calm herself. So. She was to marry a gladiator. Could be worse right? She visibly cringed. Many gladiators were known for beating their wives, or leaving them and being womanizers after their time in the coliseum, as they craved the attention they once had, having trouble settling into mundane, everyday life. Then again, Ateret wasn’t one for everyday life either. Perhaps she could befriend him. Try and get him to think of her as an equal. Maybe if she showed him how she could fight as well, he would at least respect her. She was NOT having the same kind of marriage as her sister. She needed a friend first, and lover second. She had no idea if this gladiator was stupid in the head and just good with his hands, but she had to hold some hope that marrying a fighter at least gave her the slightest chance of being able to be herself around them.

With that small flicker of hope, she sighed and stood, readjusting her dress and shawl before leaving her father’s office. She passed another servant before leaving the docks and pointed back at where she’d just left. [b]”Do not let anyone touch that mess until my father has seen it,”[/b] she threatened. The man nodded vigorously, leaving Ateret headed for the arena with shoulders slightly slumped.