clearly didn’t agree.
“Yes, that is a rather reprehensible thing to say about a member of my court, let alone blood of my blood.”
Crap. I cringed. This was not good.
I fell into a deep curtsy. “I meant no offense.”
“But you gave great offense. I cannot let such a slight pass, unless, dear son, you can?” She turned to Ryese.
He stood very still, as if considering whether to forgive me. I glanced at Falin; he studied Ryese, his eyes tight with worry. Dugan had stepped to the side, watching.
Ryese cleared his throat. “It is a challenge to my name I cannot let stand. I accept your challenge, planeweaver.”
“I didn’t—” I started, but the queen wasn’t listening.
She spoke over me. “Then as the one challenged, you set the terms.”
His golden hood bobbed in a nod. “The duel will be to the death.”
Chapter 21
The gathered fae all began chattering at once. Some voices were obviously excited to see a deadly duel. Others spoke in low worried whispers.
I moved closer to Falin. “How do I get out of this? I did not challenge him to a duel.”
He shook his head. “It does not matter. She’s twisted it until you have no choice but to engage. If you try to run, it will be judged as a loss. As it is to the death, you’ll be executed.”
Great. Well, on the plus side of a duel to the death, Ryese was not exactly in his top form.
“I name a champion,” Ryese called from his spot before the throne. “Teaghan will fight to remove this blemish from my name.”
A woman with dark hair in two braids that ran down her back strolled forward. She wore silks in burnt orange and golden yellow, but they didn’t suit her nor the variety of blades strapped to her body. Blood stained her hands, so the blades were not only for show but were deadly accessories she’d used before. She didn’t have the glow common to the court, and shadows slipped around her as she walked, so I assumed she was a recent addition to the court of light. The stunned look on Dugan’s face as he watched her approach the throne seemed to confirm that theory.
“It would be my honor to fight for you,” she said, bowing to Ryese in a movement that spoke of both strength and grace.
The blood drained from my face. “He gets to name a champion?”
“And you do not because they twisted it to where he was the one challenged,” Falin said, staring at Teaghan with obvious concern in his face. He might not want to say it, but we both knew I didn’t stand a chance in this duel.
“You do get to name what you are fighting for. He cannot deny you a prize if you win.” He glanced at my hands, and I took his meaning.
Standing up straighter, I raised my voice and announced, “I did not intend to initiate this challenge, but if I must fight, I’m fighting for the cure for basmoarte. Multiple doses.”
I slipped my gloves off as I spoke, letting them drop to the ground. Then I held up my hands, revealing my purple-stained fingers. I couldn’t see Ryese’s reaction under the hood, so I watched the queen instead. For a moment she looked confused, and then her eyes grew wide in shock. Her eyes tore from my hands to look down at her own arms. A purplish bruise the size of a thumb had sprouted on her arm, corresponding to where I’d touched her magic to slap away her compulsion.
Her pretty features twisted in alarm, disgust twisting her lips as she lifted one delicate hand to cover the blemish of poisoned magic. Then the moment passed, the panic washing from her face, her features softening as if the fear had never been there. Her gaze cut toward the hooded figure at her side before returning to the scene in front of her, unconcerned.
Not worried about a deadly infection?
Yeah, there was a cure. And she knew her son had it. She probably knew about the rest too. Maybe not all of it. Maybe just enough to claim plausible deniability. But she was involved.
“Then the terms are set,” the queen said, smiling benevolently at her people. “Duelers, prepare yourselves.”
I swallowed, the movement feeling tight as if my fear had gotten lodged in my throat. I looked at Falin, my eyes surely giving away my panic. I didn’t know anything about duels. I wasn’t a fighter. “Do we fight at dawn? Are