Ethine shuddered at the sight of the circlet, caught with hair and ice.
"Here," Roiben said, picking it clean with quick fingers and shining it against the leather of his breastplate. It came away red as rubies. His brows knitted in confusion, and Kaye saw that his armor was wet with blood, that it seeped down his arm to cover his hand in a dripping glove of gore.
"Your . . .," Kaye said, and stopped. Your hand, she'd almost said, but it wasn't his hand that was hurt.
"Put your puppet on the throne," said Talathain. "You may make her Queen, but she won't be Queen for long.”
Ethine trembled. Her face was pale as paper. "My brother needs his attendants.”
"You brought her flowers," Roiben said. "Don't you remember?”
Talathain shook his head. "That was a very long time ago, before she killed my Queen. No, she won't rule for long. I'll see to that.”
Roiben's face went slack, stunned. "Very well," he said slowly, as though he were puzzling out the words as he said them. "If you would not swear loyalty to her, perhaps you will kneel and swear your loyalty to me.”
"The Seelie crown must be given—you cannot murder your way to it." Talathain pointed his sword at Roiben.
"Wait," Kaye said, pulling Ethine to her feet. "Who do you want to get the crown?”
Talathain's sword didn't waver. "It doesn't matter what she says.”
"It does!" Kaye shouted. "Your Queen made Ethine her heir. Like it or not, she gets to say what happens now.”
Ruddles strode out onto the field, giving Kaye a quick smile as he passed her. He cleared his throat. "When one court ambushes and conquers the gentry of another court, their rules of inheritance are not applicable.”
"We'll be following Unseelie custom," Dulcamara purred.
"No," Kaye said. "It's Ethine's choice who gets the crown or if she keeps it.”
Ruddles started to speak, but Roiben shook his head. "Kaye is correct. Let my sister decide.”
"Take it," Ethine told him hollowly. "Take it and be damned.”
Roiben's fingers traced over the symbols on the crown with his thumb. He sounded distant and strange. "It seems I will be coming home after all.”
Talathain took a step toward Ethine. Kaye dropped her hand, wanting to be ready, although she had no idea what she'd do if he swung.
"How can you give this monster sovereignty over us? He would have paid for his peace with your death.”
"He wouldn't have killed her," Kaye said.
Ethine looked away. "You have all turned into monsters.”
"Now the price of peace is merely her hatred," said Roiben. "That I am willing to pay.”
"I will never accept you as King of the Seelie Court," Talathain spat.
Roiben set the circlet on his brow. Blood smudged his silver hair.
"It is done, whether you accept it or no," said Ruddles.
"Let me finish the duel in your sister's place," said Talathain. "Fight me.”
"Coward," Kaye said. "He's already hurt.”
"Your Bright Lady broke her compact with us," said Dulcamara. She turned to Roiben. "Let me kill this knight for you, my Lord.”
"Fight me!" Talathain demanded.
Roiben nodded. Reaching into the snow, he lifted his own sword. It was cloudy with cold. "Let's give them the duel they came for.”
Talathain and Roiben circled each other slowly, their feet careful, their bodies swaying toward each other like snakes. Both their blades extended so that they nearly touched.
Talathain slammed his blade down. Roiben parried hard, shoving the other knight back. Talathain kept the distance. He stepped in, swung, then retreated quickly, staying just outside Roiben's range as if he were waiting for him to tire. A single rivulet of blood ran like sweat down Roiben's sword arm and onto his blade.
"You're wounded," Talathain reminded him. "How long do you really think you can last?”
"Long enough," Roiben said, but Kaye saw the wetness of his armor and the jerkiness of his movements and wasn't sure. It seemed to her that Roiben was fighting a mirror self, as though he were desperate to cut down what he might have become.
"Silarial was right about you, was she not?" said Talathain. "She said you wanted to die.”
"Come find out." Roiben swept the sword in an arc so swiftly that the air sung. Talathain parried, their blades crashing together, edge to flat.
Talathain recovered fast and thrust at Roiben's left side. Twisting away, Roiben grabbed the other knight's pommel, forcing Talathain's sword up and kicking against his foot.
Talathain fell in the snow.
Roiben stood over him, pointing the blade at the knight's throat. Talathain went still. "Come and get the crown if you want it. Come and take it from me.”