Several of the columns had fallen and lay smashed between the birches and across the tiled floor. The Widejaws had draped bloody fur pelts across one toppled column to dry. One Widejaw stood by another fallen column, pissing against it. Most of the marble tiles were cracked and shattered. Two Widejaws stood over a pit dug right into the palace floor, gutting a boar. Horses stood tethered to the trees, and dogs roamed across the hall, relieving themselves upon the floor without any master to stop them. Campfires burned upon some tiles, staining the marble with soot; human limbs roasted over the flames. The hall of starlight had become a hall of blood and filth.

"Stars damn it—" Dorvin began, but Laira hushed him with a glare. The young man glowered, clenched and unclenched his fists, and bit down on his words.

The Oak Throne of Requiem still rose in the hall, its back to the mountains, but a new man now sat here. He was massively built, large as a wild boar, even larger than Jeid. Tattoos coiled across his head, and cruelty shone in his eyes. His mouth opened wide, stretching open from ear to ear, revealing sharp teeth.

Slyn, Laira knew. Ruler of the Widejaw tribe. She had met him only briefly—the day he had conquered this hall. She prayed that with her bald head and painted face, he would not recognize her.

She glanced at her companions, and she saw the hatred in their eyes. Maev was grinding her teeth, and Dorvin looked ready to race forward and attack. Behind them, the other Vir Requis exchanged dark looks. Only Jeid seemed calm, staring forward with expressionless eyes.

Laira took a step closer to the throne, her feet padding over snow and blood.

"Slyn of Widejaw!" she called out. "I am Kelafi, chieftain of the Sharpspear tribe. I've brought my tribe here to pay tribute to Widejaw, and to bring you gifts." She knelt. "I kneel before you, Slyn, chieftain of Widejaw."

She knew that if Jeid, Maev, or Dorvin—tall and proud warriors—had claimed to be chieftains, they'd be slaughtered as a threat. But Laira was small and slim, no more threatening than an ant. Perhaps they would allow her to bend the knee.

But Slyn rose to his feet and drew his sword. His face twisted with rage, and his cheeks reddened. Laira's heart pounded. He knows! she thought. He recognizes me! He remembers my crooked mouth, even with my face all painted!

Slyn took a step closer and snarled. "Chieftain of Widejaw?" He spat on her. "I am no mere chieftain. I am King of Requiem!"

Across the hall, his fellow Widejaws cheered. Men raised bloody hands in triumph. One Widejaw approached King's Column—the only pillar not scratched or cracked—and began to hump the marble.

Dorvin growled and reached for his spear. Jeid had to grab his arm to hold him back.