I froze when Caom’s cruel voice rang out. All eyes swung to me, most of them filled with gleeful spite already.
I took a step back. “No. I don’t know what it is.”
“What better way to get involved with our traditions, as the Carlin wishes?” His teeth flashed sharp and gleaming in the dark, and he shoved me forwards with hard hands. “It’s just a fun little game.”
Delin had said it was a battle. That didn’t sound like a fun fucking game.
I glared at him and dug my boots into the snow. “No.”
Belial hesitantly said, “Caom, I don’t think—”
“Come on, Ash.”
Clawed fingers dug into my shoulders and shoved me forwards again, then kept on shoving no matter how much I struggled. Fucking Folk and their unnatural strength.
“Caom, don’t be a child.”
I was momentarily shocked that Idony was speaking up seemingly in my defence, but then Caom was pushing me through the gathered Folk, who parted seamlessly for us, and directly in front of Delin.
“Your oak king, ready for battle.” He snickered like he’d said something secretly funny.
“Get the fuck off me,” I seethed, ripping his hands off my shoulders.
Caom laughed, the sound cruel and barking like the reynards. “Lighten up, Ash. It’s just a game.”
“Then someone else can play.”
But Delin was already in front of me, his brown eyes flashing with spiteful cunning as he shoved a crown of oak leaves onto my head.
“Too late, halfling. You wear the crown. You are our oak king this Solstice.”
“No.” I reached up to rip it off, but his long, spindly fingers gripped my wrists impossibly tight.
“And who wishes to fight our oak king this year?” He spoke up loudly, addressing the crowd and ignoring my squirming. “Who will be our holly king?”
“I’ll do it.”
Lonan’s husky voice made my chest unclench just a little. Delin dropped my wrists immediately, taking a step back as his eyes grew wide.
“Prince Lonan. I—Of course. We’re honoured.”
He just held out a hand in silence until Delin passed him another crown of holly leaves. Lonan didn’t even flinch when he settled it on his head, even though the leaves were sharp.
I swallowed when Delin handed each of us a sword, the handle on mine carved with intricate oak leaves, while Lonan’s had holly. He accepted the weapon and swung it round in an easy, relaxed grip that tightened my stomach with a weird bout of lust, for some reason.
Black eyes drifted to me, cool and aloof. “Shall we?”
“The halfling and Prince Lonan will be our kings this Solstice,” Delin announced hurriedly as I followed Lonan away from the tree and the gathered Folk. He led us to a patch of grass that had been cleared of snow and was ringed with torches stuck into the icy ground.
“The oak king always wins,” he murmured. “It’s just for show. A silly tradition. We’ll give them a few minutes of entertainment and be done with it.”
I swallowed nervously. “Okay.”
How was I going to even do this for show? And somehowwin?I didn’t know how to fight properly, especially not with a fucking sword. It hung limply from my hand, the tip leaving a furrow in the snow as we walked away from the group.
Lonan positioned himself with his back to the watching Folk so he could shoot me a little smile. “Fight well, my oak king.”
I was too anxious to smile back. I couldn’t have, anyway—not with all the Folk eyes fixed on me.