Decima likes Nero; Nero likes Decima; god you're both two years old
He knows that she doesn't know and if she doesn't know then she can't know that he knows. At least, Nero thinks that's about the right mental gymnastics to explain what's currently going on, but no one can never be sure with Decima.
And he knows that he's right about her liking him because Enobaria told him that she whispered his name in her sleep on one of those rare nights that she slept at the Training Center. She had been aiming to land punches, so he'd just looked at her for a moment and later confirmed it with one of the younger girls, one of the ones who hadn't mastered Enobaria's mind games.
Enobaria was always aiming to land punches, though, and today her target was Decima. "Your mother not dead yet then? Will you stop showing up here when she kicks the bucket like she should have years ago?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being the oldest girl around?"
"Hell yes, and it would be good to give the people who want to be here a chance to shine instead of clogging up tribute spaces with people who don't even care. But then you'd do anything for your useless mother, wouldn't you?" And that was a low blow, and everyone within hearing distance knew it.
Decima steadfastly didn't move, not when movement would betray emotion. Emotion was weakness, and weakness could be preyed upon. That was the entire point of Enobaria's mind games, her whole persona. "Shaming your mother is the oldest game in the book," Decima informed her coldly, "You've got to be able to do better than that."
Enobaria's eyes flicked in his direction and she grinned predatorally. She was going to go for two birds with one stone, the vicious bitch. Well, he was better at keeping his cool than Decima, and he wasn't going to flinch.
"Oh, but it's true. You'd marry Nero for her, and he's a dick if I've ever met one, and I've met a fair few in my free time. Oh, but I forgot, you call out for your boyfriend in the middle of the night. Careful, Decima, someone might think you like him."
Nero exercised every ounce of his good sense and tucked himself out Decima's view. She didn't need to know he'd heard any of this, no matter how much the rumours would fly later.
"You say another word and you'll be dead before you ever reach the Arena." Decima's hand ran across the weapons table, itching for the release that attack would give her.
"That sounds an awful lot like a confession," Enobaria needled. Decima didn't move, just held perfectly still and waited.
Enobaria turned away, victorious, and within seconds a knife flew past her ear and embedded itself hilt-deep in the post of the gymnasium, punctuating both Decima's threat and her guilt.
Enobaria didn't flinch. It was truly remarkable how much that girl was able to manipulate them all to her will, Nero thought, as she flashed him a smile with all too many teeth.
This was seriously going to fuck with his mental arithmetic too. It looked like it was a far more dangerous game.
