Queen Emberspear grinned, gleefully delighted, and Bri wondered if this was a premeditated plan or if she had just come up with it on the spot. Only the Queen of the Southern Court could bring her wild games with her wherever she went with no repercussions.

The Queen raised her napkin in the air, holding it by the corner. “To the victor belong the spoils.”

Bri cringed at the word “spoils,” clenching her knife as Talhan kicked her under the table. No, she wasn’t allowed to stab the Queen.

The moment the napkin left Queen Emberspear’s hand, the room erupted into a giant brawl. None of the courtiers wore their armor or weapons. The sound of fists striking meaty flesh accompanied the barks of pain and growls of aggression. A few immediately stepped back off the dance floor, the first strike to the face or gut enough to dissuade them from this foolish pursuit. Several carried on, a few dropping to the ground, knocked out by a wayward blow. The fight stumbled up the steps toward the raised table and Bri kicked out, knocking the fighters to the side.

One struggled backward to where Talhan sat at the edge of the table, and Bri’s twin shoved away the courtier about to crash into him. The red-haired fae whipped around, landing a blow to Talhan’s jaw in a brutal sucker punch. Talhan kicked back from his chair, fuming, and socked the redhead square in the nose. He crumpled as Talhan ducked under another swinging fist.

Three half-drunk courtiers converged on Talhan at once and he spun, booting the knee of one while grabbing another in the crook of his arm. One clawed at him, foolish enough to try to attack the Eagle. In one swift move, Talhan seized him by the throat and squeezed, choking the fae until his eyes rolled back. Talhan dropped him, focusing his attention on the last attacker. The fae dropped into a low stance as if making to tackle Talhan and Talhan guffawed, grabbing the fae by the hair and slamming his head down into his knee. The crowd groaned at the wet smack of the blow.

He spun, checking for any other harebrained courtiers, but the floor was bare, having cleared out at the sight of his fighting skill.

“Talhan Catullus,” Queen Emberspear boomed. Everyone paused as her face split into a catlike grin. “Congratulations.”

Talhan’s eyes bugged at her as he looked around the circling crowd, where there surely should have been other brawlers. He’d been forced into the fray and now here he was—the unwitting victor.

Gaping, Bri shook her head at her twin. “It’s not real,” she mouthed. “Just play along.”

Talhan narrowed his eyes at her and then looked back to the Queen. “My honor, Your Majesty,” he said with faux valor, placing his fist over his heart and bowing deeply.