Nevander desperately wants one. “I don’t.”
“Then Ritekeeper Primrose, please drop this silence,” Seren says, and steps to the edge of the dais.
Primrose’s ears twitch again, and murmurs rise. Not as loud as Nevander expected. Morana waits silently, no longer egging on the crowd. She knows as well as Nevander that success tonight doesn’t depend on popular support. Skill alone will decide who sits the Summer throne.
Morana is bold but pragmatic. Renouncing her claim to Brightwood means her family won’t bear the shame if she fails. If she succeeds, she’ll found her own dynasty.
Seren stares Morana down. The murmurs die in anticipation, and Morana’s jaw tenses, then relaxes. Her attention turns to Nevander as Seren speaks.
“I am Seren.” His voice is quiet but clear. “I am also Calithel. I name Nevander as my champion.”
It’s the first time he’s claimed his birth name. Nevander would be proud if it didn’t sound so much like surrender.
Primrose asks,Do you accept, Lord Nevander?
“I do,” Nevander says.
The challenge is met. Please wait as the ritekeepers ready the circle.
A dueling circle can be drawn with a stick in dirt. Tradition grows more complicated in the heart of Elladar. Guards usher fae away from a broad space before the dais, while ritekeepers trace runes around the edge. A barrier wavers in their wake, like heat over a stone road. The crowd thins on the ground as revelers move to the public balconies surrounding the Court of Hours.
Seren stands alone, ensnared in tradition. Nevander wants to kiss him.
But losing control will hurt them both. Instead, Nevander removes his gauntlet, then his carryhold ring. “Here, my prince. I can’t bring enchantments into the circle.”
Seren flinches. Ah. The endearment stings enough. “Is the,” Seren starts, then takes the ring. “This is too big for me. Can I put it in my own carryhold?”
“Best not.” Nevander closes Seren’s gloved hand around the simple ring. “Just hold it for me. I’ll be back for it.”
Seren relaxes slightly, as if bolstered by the promise. He hasn’t yet learned the difference between intention and fate. Hopefully Nevander won’t be the one to teach him today.
Alone, Nevander descends the dais. He surrenders the rest of his enchanted items to a ritekeeper. A few talismans, tiding tokens. A stretch away, Morana submits to another ritekeeper’s inspection. She carries no enchantments. She was prepared.
Lysandra is nowhere to be seen. Nevander is startled to have looked for her. He should spend more time with her after this, prickly as she is. Seren has taught him not to take a parent for granted.
The circle is ready,Primrose says.
Nevander and Morana step inside. Perimeter runes flicker but don’t set. Wordlessly, Nevander walks the edge, checking that everything is written correctly. Morana does the same. She moves with utter ease, and Nevander takes the chance to assess her as well as the runes. Her armor looks decorative, but like Nevander’s, must be functional. Her lavender hair is bound in a tight crown. She wears a sword and a long dagger at her hip.
Are you satisfied with the circle?Primrose asks from outside.
Morana steps to the westward challenger rune. “I am.”
Nevander moves ten paces away to the champion rune. “I am.”
You may commence.
Nevander’s sword appears in his right hand. His left joins for a double grip. Morana’s sword and dagger jump to readiness, too. No enchantments in the circle, but any other weapon is permitted. A fae’s blade depends on the strength and control of their magical essence. There’s no effort to balance the scales in that regard. The strongest fae will win, whether by skill or raw power.
First, negotiations. Three questions define a courtly duel. One asked by the challenger, the next by the champion, the last by the challenger again. Forcing the order of questions can be a crucial strategy—ask the questions you care about least for your opponent to answer. Get your opponent to ask the questions you most want to control. But Nevander has a sense he and Morana will agree on the important answers tonight.
“Grounded or aloft?” Morana asks.
“Aloft,” Nevander answers. “To blood or to death?”
Surprise ricochets around the courtyard. Most would expect a champion to maneuver that answer for himself. But Morana doesn’t react. She too understands the stakes. A duel for the Summer throne cannot end in blood alone. Nevander would have Morana assassinated afterwards. She would do the same for him.
Besides. There’s still an escape route, depending on Nevander’s next answer.
