Tybault

We watched as Father and Rand fought, and I could not help the slight curl of a smile when I saw how well Rand manipulated our Father. He didn't fight him as Ainmire expected, strength for strength, but by using all of his gifts, leaping from shadows to push Father first one way and then another. Finally, Rand had Father pinned and clearly beaten, when Father, foolish foolish Father who never could see when people changed, tried to win by pulling Rand into the shadows. Was the fool not paying attention to how Rand had been fighting? The shadows were his now.

We waited for one or the other to step forward and take the throne. Father's latest doxie alternated between glaring and gloating at me, and worriedly looking to the various shadows of the room. Then Rand stepped forth and gazed at us impassively while the rest of the court gazed at him appraisingly.

I stepped forward, head held high, and said, "The King is dead."

"The Prince has died in slaying him," Rand replied, steadily as a true King.

I nodded, accepting the ritual response and flushing with pride. My only regret was that Jill had not been here to see his triumph. "Who claims the crown?"

Rand paused then, looking to where Jill still lay. "Tybalt, King of the Court of Fogbound Cats."

The Court roared its approval.