You stand in a long line of slave girls, keeping your head down as gladiators stroll back and forth, picking out girls to be their slaves. Choosing Day is almost over, and you still haven’t been chosen. Perhaps you’ll be lucky… A shadow falls across you. A gladiator has stopped in front of you. He reaches out and tips up your chin, forcing you to meet his startlingly blue gaze, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. He searches your face, and seems to find what he is looking for. This one.
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