Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(108)

Shocked silence dropped over the ballroom again, and no one moved or said anything.

I looked at the other royals. “I’ve told you what a threat he is to all of us.” I stabbed my finger at Maximus again. “Maybe now you’ll finally believe me. You all saw him execute his own guard just for delivering bad news. Imagine what he would do to a true enemy. Actually, you don’t have to imagine anything, given that tidal wave he orchestrated against me.”

Once again, no one moved or said anything, and the scent of everyone’s collective worry, fear, and tension blanketed the air.

“You are mistaken, Everleigh,” Maximus repeated, his voice as smooth and silky as ever. “I had absolutely nothing to do with those weather magiers, whomever they were.”

I laughed. “Please. They were your blood, and now they’re all fish food. But you don’t care, do you? Even your relatives are just pawns that you use and sacrifice any way you want whenever you feel like it. All to give yourself a tiny bit more power.”

The king didn’t respond, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. My tirade was beginning to anger him. Good.

“Being here in the ballroom again, I can’t help but think of that strix you slaughtered last night. At first I thought you did it just to be disgusting, but then I realized that you had an ulterior motive. You wanted the strix’s magic, and you drank its blood so you could absorb its power.”

More shocked gasps rang out, but I ignored them and kept staring at the Mortan king.

“You know, Maximus, I’m starting to wonder if you have any real magic of your own—or just what you take from others. You’re not a true king. You’re not even a common mutt. You’re nothing but a sick, disgusting little thief.”

I didn’t know if Maximus had any magic of his own, and I really didn’t care. All that mattered right now was goading him into agreeing to my proposal and having another chance to end him.

A flurry of whispers sounded at my harsh insults, and everyone started eyeing Maximus, clearly wondering if my words were true, and what magic—if any—the Mortan king had.

Mercer and Nox both looked pale at my exposing their king’s secret, but Maeven studied her brother with a thoughtful expression.

My latest round of insults made Maximus go from merely being angry to being outright incensed. His purple eyes glowed with hate, his hands clenched into fists, and the scent of his hot jalape?o rage blasted over me in continuous gusts, like I was breathing in fire instead of the cool air.

“I would be careful, Everleigh,” he said in an icy voice. “You are dangerously close to insulting me. And that is not a wise thing to do.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Only close to insulting you? Well, then, let me make myself crystal clear.”

I held out my hand. Serilda stepped up and passed me my sword. Everyone, including Maximus, tensed, but I held the sword up high and turned around in a slow circle, so that everyone could see it.

A couple of low murmurs sounded. A few people had already figured out what I was up to, including Maeven, who stared at me with the same thoughtful expression she’d given her brother a few moments ago.

I kept my sword raised high overhead as I looked out over the crowd of royals, nobles, advisors, servants, and guards. “Maximus has spent the past year trying to kill me, and he almost succeeded today. Royals trying to murder each other is nothing new, but he didn’t just target me. How many people would have died on the bridge? Or on the shoreline? Hundreds, maybe even thousands. And this man, this so-called king, wouldn’t have given a damn about any of those innocent people. Just like he doesn’t give a damn about his subjects, not even his own flesh and blood.”

Several people nodded, and more than a few murmurs of agreement sounded. Maximus heard them too, and even more rage sparked in his eyes. He didn’t like my announcing his many sins. Too damn bad.

“Well, I say no more,” I called out. “We must all hold Maximus accountable for his actions, and especially those of his bastard relatives, the ones who lie, cheat, and kill on his orders.”

“What are you proposing?” Zariza called out.

I looked at the Ungerian queen. “There is only one way to settle this now.”

“And how is that?” This time Heinrich asked the question.

I smiled, baring my teeth at everyone. “Through a royal challenge.”

More shocked gasps surged through the crowd, but they almost immediately vanished, like candles being snuffed out by a cold, stiff wind.

I faced Maximus again. I raised my sword a little higher, then brought it down. Still keeping my gaze on his, I sliced the blade across my left palm, opening up a deep gash. Then I held my hand out and clenched it into a tight fist, so that my blood spurted out from between my fingers. The steady plop-plop-plop of my blood dripping onto the white marble floor seemed even louder than the coins still tinkling out of the fountains in the corners.

“I, Everleigh Saffira Winter Blair, queen of Bellona, challenge you, Maximus Mercer Morland Morricone, king of Morta, to a royal fight to the death.”

My voice boomed through the ballroom just like the thunder from the magiers’ storm had over the bridge. The last echoes of my voice and challenge quickly faded away, but no one moved or spoke.

Surprise flashed in Maximus’s eyes. Even after his vicious attack on the bridge, he still hadn’t expected me to do something so bold in return. Arrogant fool. He didn’t realize that his plots were finished and that we were playing my game from here on out.