donna beneviento

“Dad? What are you doing here?” She called to him as she descended the stairs, her haste lost in the confusion.

The rest of the fourth round continued without issue. Foley held his own in a fight against a woman armed with two quarter staffs, relying on his tried-and-true method of putting up his defenses and waiting for his enemy to tire. For several minutes, she beat on his shields like she was playing the drums, but when she realized she couldn’t break through, she surrendered, able to walk out of the arena with some of her dignity intact. Not long after, Saimallah claimed victory in another one-sided beatdown against a church agent, never even touching his opponent. The round ended with Seraph narrowly defeating an axe wielder, due much in part to luck. The man was mighty and skilled with his weapon, but the fact remained that if Seraph still had his magic, he wouldn’t have even been a challenge. All of the prince’s victories were won by the skin of his teeth.

“It's not that,” I said, trying to figure out the words to explain, when I only partly understood how I was feeling about it myself. “I know he'd be okay with it... and we might end up going there, eventually. But once he knows, there's no taking that back. I... I just need more time to think about it, first, before we go there. Right now, he's just my Grandpa, nothing else, and I'm just his innocent little baby girl... I'm not sure I'm ready to give that up, not yet.”