His gambit works as intended, the unarmored arm snapping with a sickening crack, his sword dropping from his numb fingers, as he cries out in a mix of pain and rage. His offhand reaches for a dagger at his belt, but before it leaves the sheath, they'll both feel a soft, but firm hand on their shoulders. "This match is over; combat is to first blood, here in this Court, and as I see, your blood has been drawn," the princess says, separating the two almost effortlessly, as she gestures to the elf's broken arm, where a broken bone juts from his arm, and a couple of spots of blood stain the spotless, marble floor.