Every conversation that had been building for over a day detonated simultaneously. Forty-eight Alphas, their Betas, their Gammas, and every officer in the upper stands all started talking at once with the coordinated discipline of a henhouse during a thunderstorm.
"DOUBLE-DIP CONFIRMED." Darwin was standing. Obviously. Arms spread. Vindicated. The man had peaked and was going to ride this moment into the goddamn afterlife.
"SIT DOWN, DARWIN."
"I WILL NOT SIT DOWN. I WAS RIGHT. FROM THE BEGINNING. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU OWES ME—"
Nicholas looked at him. Darwin sat. In the heavens, the gods stopped keeping count.
"Future queen," Thornback repeated to no one in particular. "Future queen of Shadowfell AND wife to the Dragon King. That's two crowns."
"Three if you count Lunaris," Ironmaw added.
Renwick's head turned so slowly it registered on instruments designed to measure glacial drift. "She is not queen of Lunaris."
"Yet," Thornback muttered.
