"The fourth—" he started, his voice going hoarse, and dying. Dain closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "The fourth I was given heartflower and wine, then made into an Oracle. My task was to answer any question I was asked." He laughed, a bitter sound. "It was far worse than being displayed naked, or like an animal. It almost broke me. I don't think I could have done it without knowing that enduring it was the only way I could be the man you want me to be, and that you were waiting for me at the end of it." He opened his eyes again, looking at me with tension and unhappiness. "You may hear things—"

"If anyone fucking dares to repeat anything they heard, I will punch them in their stupid fucking faces," I snarled back, cutting him off and unable to contain the white-hot rage in the face of that shame and devastation in Dain's expression. The force of that anger made it a little easier to comprehend why Dain had so brutally taken revenge on the two archers sent to kill us. If King Omahice had walked into the room at that moment, I would have been sorely tempted to go at him with one of Dain's many swords.

He jerked back slightly, his eyes going wet and gleaming. "You... don't want to know?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"Not like that." I tried to get my temper back under control, though I kept seething. "I want nothing from you that you don't want to give. If those Court of Mercy motherfuckers try, they will find out exactly how much of a match I am for the Beast of fucking Phazikai."

Dain blinked rapidly, then dragged me to him, clinging to me in a crushing embrace. "Don't start a war for me," he said, his voice thick. "I'm told that's unacceptable."

I put my arms around him and nuzzled my face against his warm neck. "Fine," I said with a sigh, trying for a little levity. "But only because you told me not to."

He laughed at that, still mixed with his unhappiness, but it eased some of the tension in his body, and he stopped making it quite so difficult for me to breathe.

After a moment, his cheek still resting against mine, Dain said, "The fifth revel was something of a let-down, actually, after I spent all the days after the fourth terrified for what worse humiliation I would have to endure." His ear shifted, tickling my nose, and I stifled the urge to sneeze. "I only had to stand in a ring in the center of the dance floor and defend myself from all comers, dressed in a loincloth and warpaint, with my wing-arms and my right hand bound together behind my back and an elk's antler for a weapon."