‘Byron Moncrieffe,’ Carnegie purred, thrusting the microphone in his direction. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Fabulous.’

He didn’t look as if he felt fabulous. His mouth was pressed in a grim line. My skin buzzed with Kirsty Kincaid’s stolen Gift as I recognised the lie. Going by Byron’s expression, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he punched Carnegie rather than shaking his hand. Maybe it was supposed to be Sidhe stoicism in the face of victory, another one of those damned honour ideals which had about as much substance as an eyelash in a hurricane.

Carnegie picked up the winner’s gold medal and it caught the light, glittering and twinkling as it spun. I felt a moment of bitter regret that I quickly quashed. Byron deserved this moment, much as it galled me to admit it; when it really counted, he’d been better than me.

He bowed his head, permitting Carnegie to drop the medal over his head. Byron’s hand briefly touched the metal disk then he turned to face his adoring public. The roar of cheers was extraordinary.

After what felt like minutes, the MC gestured to the audience to be silent. Even then it took some time for everyone to settle down.

‘As we all know,’ he intoned dramatically, ‘the winner of the Games is permitted to ask for any prize. If it is within the power of the Chieftains to grant it, then grant it they shall.’ He gave a small smile. ‘In fact, there has only been one occasion in the Games’ five-hundred-year history when the requested prize was not given – and that was for a unicorn’s horn.’

There was an appreciative titter from the crowd. I glanced at Tipsania. Her shoulders were slumped; maybe her dalliance with Candy was nothing more than a way to pass the time. Perhaps she really did want Byron after all.

‘Byron Moncrieffe,’ Campbell continued. ‘What do you request?’

Byron’s emerald eyes momentarily caught mine. It was a fleeting look, so swift I wasn’t even sure if it had happened. He swallowed once, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I looked away, searching for my friends. The others were watching Byron but Taylor was looking at me. He gave me a bright smile and a thumbs up. I smiled back.

‘I would like,’ Byron said, ‘for the Adair lands to be returned to their Clan daughter.’ My head whipped round and my jaw dropped open. He looked at me. ‘Integrity Adair.’

I stared at him, shock holding me rigid. His expression didn’t flicker.

Carnegie was a different matter, however. He could have caught a swarm of dragonflies with his mouth. ‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’

‘Yes.’

‘But…’

Byron turned to him. ‘It’s my prize to claim,’ he said evenly, ‘and I have made my request.’

Campbell turned to the Chieftains. In theory I should be with them but I was glad that I wasn’t. I didn’t need to be beside them to know what some of them were saying; the sparks of anger in their eyes were enough.