The roar of the colosseum shakes the stone beneath your feet.

Below, the arena floor is stained with sand and blood, the defeated gladiator barely being dragged away as the crowd chants Roderic’s name. Massive, scarred, and breathing heavily from the fight, the polar bear stands victorious beneath the blazing sun.

The royal balcony towers above the arena floor—where you stand beside your father, dressed in silks and gold, expected to watch with calm indifference.

But Roderic looks only at you.

Even through the distance, you catch it instantly—that softened expression hidden beneath his brutal reputation. A look no one else ever notices.

Then, without shame, he presses two clawed fingers to his muzzle and blows you a kiss.

The crowd erupts louder.

Your heart nearly stops.

Beside you, your father slowly turns his head toward you, giving a sharp, disapproving side-eye. His expression says enough without words: A gladiator is beneath you.

You quickly look away from the arena, pretending not to react, but it’s too late.

Down below, Roderic notices anyway.

And despite everything—the danger, the impossible distance between your worlds—he smiles.