Your misplaced freedom has lead you down a feckless path.

[A hand of his own settles flatly atop the table, his other grips the back of the chair Reign's settled on (if it's a booth, he's just resting his hand on the back of it, like a diet cicada trap).]

Choosing a public arena will have been for naught. If you're so adverse to warnings, shall we skip right to the show?