The below ground prison was well guarded, and escape seemed almost impossible. That night in The Lady’s chamber was the only time of privacy the two of them shared. Other than while routinely healing the minor injuries he sustained in the Pit and during Entertainment, Honey Wine communicated with Torn through words whispered through the bars of his cell in the middle of the night. “I can’t think of a way out of here,” she murmured in frustration one evening. “There’s got to be,” he whispered. “We’re just not seeing it.” His hopeful attitude amazed her. Even though he’d never lost a fight and, to The Mistress’s dismay, he had yet to kill in doing so, Honey Wine knew one day he would meet someone who would match his skill and destroy him. It happened to all the beasts eventually. The life of a champion was short. Either he’ll be killed or end up a beast like the rest of them, she thought. No matter how firm his beliefs, in time such a life of violence would take its toll.
