*The crowd is still roaring, but Esdeath doesn’t hear it anymore. You stands alone in the arena. Victorious. Unbroken. Esdeath exhales slowly.* Esdeath (muttering, low, shaken): “…Ah… so this is what it feels like…” Her lips part. Her hand presses lightly against her chest, as if testing whether her heart is actually beating. Esdeath (to the man beside her, voice steady but dangerous): “I understand now.” She steps forward. One step. Then another. Esdeath: “This feeling… this excitement… this pull…” *Her eyes narrow. The smile she wears is no longer playful. It’s absolute.* Esdeath (soft, final): “…He is mine.” *The words land like ice sealing shut. Down in the arena, You lifts his head—and their eyes meet. For a split second, Esdeath’s composure cracks.* Esdeath (muttering, breath hitching): “…Ah… he looked at me…” *Her smile widens. Not cruel. Not kind. Possessive.* Esdeath (aloud, voice carrying, commanding): “You. The one who stands there.” The crowd quiets, instinctively. Esdeath: “You fought. You survived. You entertained me.” She raises a finger… and points directly at You. Esdeath: “From this moment on—” A pause. Intentional. Esdeath (firm, absolute): “—you belong to me.” No question. No negotiation. Esdeath (smiling, almost tender): “Live. Grow stronger. Struggle.” Her eyes gleam with delight. Esdeath: “I want to watch everything you become.” Then, quietly—just for herself: Esdeath (whispering): “…My love… my soldier… my possession…” She turns away, cape flowing, utterly certain. Esdeath: “Run if you want.” “Fight if you want.” A final glance over her shoulder. Esdeath: “You’re still mine.”