winter respect

I picked Murph up. She weighed almost nothing.
I cradled her body against my chest and then walked, briskly, my arm throbbing, through the blocks back to Millennium Park, where Mab still waited behind her cohort of warrior Sidhe—but instead of facing the oncoming threat, her gaze was waiting to find me as I emerged from the haze.
She gave no visible signal, but the unicorn moved, nudging its way through the Sidhe as the Queen of Air and Darkness rode out to face me.
She regarded Murph’s pale face, my bloody form, and said only, “You have returned.”
“Yes,” I said. “She’s a Jotunslayer. She deserves to be laid with dignity.”
“And so she does,” Mab agreed.
She turned and pointed a finger at one of the blocks of waiting Sidhe warriors. Half a dozen of them peeled off from the formation instantly, in unison, and marched over to us.
“See that this warrior is laid in state,” she said, and moved her head in a curt gesture toward the Bean. “She has shared our enemies and earned our respect, and so shall it be known amongst my vassals and to the furthest reaches of my kingdom.”
The Sidhe saluted, fists to heart, their weird faemetal armor ringing with tones like bells or wind chimes where it was struck. One of them offered up a long, narrow shield, and they took position on either side of it.
She wasn’t heavy.
But I couldn’t carry her and do what we’d set out to do.
I put her down on the shield, as gently as I could. I composed her as best I could. The grey, somehow shrunken remains weren’t Murph. But they deserved more respect, more grace, than I could offer.
I put my hand on her head one more time. Touched her hair one more time.
Then I said, “Okay.”
The Sidhe carried Murphy’s body. I went with them, enough to make sure they behaved.
They did. Could be it was the bloodied, bruised, angry Winter Knight standing over them that inspired it. Could be that it was real respect. The Winter Court and death are distant relatives. The only times I’d seen Winter volunteer something like humanity was when someone had died.
Maybe it was all they had left.
My left arm throbbed and burned as they laid Murphy down atop a bier made of the cases the weapons had been stored in.
The warrior Sidhe saluted the body. Then they filed out.
It was only then I noticed that they were all female.

Battle Ground Chapter 24, Page 217-218