It was officially Wyatt's first crowning. Yes, there had been a winner last time 'round, but there hadn't been all... this. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, or even what he was supposed to be feeling.

No, he didn't have any particular ill will toward Ariadne despite their history, and he was glad to see a decent sort get out..., but he was still going back.

But that wasn't her fault. And wasn't it better it was him, rather than her?

It left him all wrong-footed. All guilt, and confusion, frustration, and an impotent anger as he stood by himself, nursing a drink and eyeing the distant stage like he didn't trust it.