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Queen Rivah's confused at first. After giving Victor permission, for a few days... nothing seems to happen.Things are happening, of course. He's making sure he has an accurate list from Annelise, and finding out who was the ringleader - whose idea it was, who egged the others on. There's always a ringleader.Other than that, he's being his normal friendly self. Even to the guys in question. Especially to them. And in ones and twos, he pulls aside some of his friends, guys he trusts. They're each given a name. "In a couple days I'm gonna do a thing," they're told in quiet tones. "Make sure you're standing near him when I do. When the time comes, grab him. You'll know when, believe me."He makes sure Annelise knows to stay away from the Summer Ballroom for a while. He doesn't want her to see.And then, on a day when it's more than usually packed with people of all courts working out or training, he claps his hands, all bouncing enthusiasm and guileless smiles, and announces in a booming voice, "Okay! We're gonna do a demonstration match, everyone, show off a few techniques! Gather round!" He bounces up into the fighting ring, the one that was used for the tournament finals, and calls a name to join him.The ringleader.He looks confused; he didn't agree to a demonstration match, although he's certainly not opposed to one. He may even wonder briefly if Victor's still mad from earlier and looking to get in a few good punches where nobody can call him on it. It doesn't really matter, though: all eyes are on him, he's Summer Court, and he can't exactly back down without looking like a coward. He shrugs and climbs into the ring.And yet the fight is gentle. Victor's better than him, he can tell, but it's not a beat-down. He telegraphs his moves, pulls his punches, explains to their audience what they're doing. "Now here's a trick," he says at one point. "Takes some practice, but if you can get it down it don't matter how much stronger than you the other guy is. Could save your life in a pinch," he says, nodding to a couple people in the audience who rely on speed rather than strength. "Okay. Throw a punch at me."The other man complies. Unsurprisingly, he soon finds himself immobilized and in a headlock. "Can't use his strength against you," Victor explains in a calm voice, "or he'll break his own arms. He's helpless until you let him go. Not a good position to be in. Especially if you've recently raped a girl."He doesn't even give it time for the words to sink in. He breaks the man's neck in the sudden silence, makes sure everyone can hear the crack. Makes sure everyone sees the body drop limp to the mat. Most importantly, makes sure everyone sees that he doesn't vanish. There's no oathbreak. The monarchs signed off on this.He looks back out at the shocked audience and sees, yes, Darryl and Nandi and Ichiro and Tyrone have the accomplices in hand. "Bring them up here," he orders, his tone cold.On the makeshift stage, he eyes them, face impassive. "I don't want to hear excuses, arguments, explanations or apologies. I only want to know your choice: oath or death?"The oath is a nasty one, guaranteed to put a crimp in one's social life. With the alternative being death, he makes them swear to never in their lives knowingly touch or communicate with any woman or trans or nonbinary person, or any fetch of any gender, unless they know for sure and in advance that the person in question wants them to. Not just consent, not just putting up with them, but actually and actively wants to interact with them. When asked how they can figure this out without talking to them, Victor just shrugs. That's not his problem. The sanction, surprisingly, isn't death. Instead there's two parts. The first is a greater curse, the one that leaves the oathbreaker vulnerable to violence.The second is a pishogue, relenting to Victor's tracking spell.One man refuses to swear. Victor breaks his neck while Tyrone holds him, as calm and matter-of-fact as if he were doing the dishes.The remaining two he fixes with a cold glare. "Understand this. Rivah and Aisha already signed your death warrants. There's no help for you there - and since the queens are both women and I know for a fact they don't want to see you, I wouldn't advise trying. The stay of execution comes from me. I'm the one offering you a second chance. Fuck it up - by, say, trying to obey the letter of the oath while looking for a loophole in the spirit, or by coming up with some creative way to take me out - and you'll never see me coming. Understand?"He turns then, contemptuous, and walks away. Over his shoulder he calls out, "Don't leave town. But get the hell out of my ballroom. You're not welcome here."