“He's going to be okay," said Quentin. "He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around." "Weird and irritating?" I raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?" Quentin shrugged. "That's already how you get when he isn't around.”

“It was May’s idea,” Quentin added.“I’m sure it was,” I said. Sylvester started circling. I dropped into a defensive position. “I’m not really comfortable with this, May.”“Cope,” she said.“Maybe an audience will make you shape up,” Sylvester said, and lunged.I parried. “Maybe an audience will distract me and get me gutted.”“Let’s see some carnage!” hollered May, pumping her fist in the air.“This isn’t professional wrestling!” I snapped, trying to hit Sylvester’s ankle. He blocked, turning my thrust aside and nearly disarming me. “And I swear if you shout ‘take it off,’ I am coming over there.”“Take what off?” asked Sylvester.“Nothing, Your Grace,” Quentin and I said in unison.”

“Did I ever tell you what came between your mother's heart and mine?""I don't think this is the time--""Your friend would disagree," she said, almost playfully, her attention darting to Tybalt. Focusing in me again, she said, "He all but burns with what he doesn't say to you, and my time is mine to spend.”

“No walking! No standing, no bending, no moving, no accessing the Shadow Roads, nothing. You don't swim for an hour after eating, you don't swan around like an idiot for an hour after narrowly avoiding death.''Toby does,' said Quentin.'Toby is genetically predisposed to swan around like an idiot,' Jin shot back. 'Now sit.”

“She sent you to your death once, in case you've forgotten," he said, a sudden chill dropping into his voice. "Why should her collapse concern me?"I paused. Tybalt was a cat before he was anything else. If something didn't affect him personally, he was unlikely to give a damn. Slowly, I said, "Because Rayseline is blaming me, and if Luna dies--""The little bitch will push for your execution under Oberon's law," he snarled. I blinked. I'd expected a reaction, but nothing that strong.”

“See, Quentin, that’s why you should wear a cup before trying to assassinate someone.”

“Being a King sort of sucks," I said. Quentin wrinkled his nose, "So does your outfit." "Blood is in this season.”