(It's fine) 

The gates opened, A breath escaped Aiden as the chariots pulled forward. Seeing the other men come out of the gate. His eyes forward. Dust getting kicked up behind the wheels. "Let's get this over with," he looked to the men beside him. As the chariot stopped in front of his competitor, his eyes looking over the man he was supposed to fight. By the loks of him his skin was dark, and by the scars he looked to be a slave before he became a gladiator.

His gaze going to the person behind him, to see Aeliena. He rolled his eyes when he saw the fluttering eye lashes and golden fan moving. She was Roman he was a Celt, someone who had saw his parents die by Roman hands.

Stepping off the chariot, as he watched them go back for the gates. He yelled something in Celt, he knew only a few could translate. "May the Ancestors be at my side!" His grip on his sword tightened his gaze hardening. He waited for the king to give the order, then he would be on the move.