Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(122)
Maeven didn’t say anything, but concern darkened her eyes. Even better, I could sense her growing fear as she realized just how effectively I had trapped her. Sweetest bloody aroma I’d ever smelled.
Serilda had trained me to be a soldier, a fighter, a gladiator, and Xenia had schooled me in the subtle art of being a spy and twirling my enemies into corners. I had learned from two masters, and I would always be grateful for the hard lessons they had taught me.
But this scheme against Maeven was all my doing, from beginning to end. It had been my idea, playing to my strengths of waiting, watching, plotting, manipulating, and thinking ahead. It was my proudest accomplishment to date, and something that made me feel like I had finally earned my throne, just like a true Winter queen would.
“You know what people say about Bellonans, don’t you?” I taunted her. “I’m sure you heard it often enough while you were at Seven Spire.”
She wet her lips and whispered the words. “Bellonans are very good at playing the long game.”
“Exactly! I’m so glad you remembered our little motto. I think that I did my kingdom, my people, and especially my family proud playing my long game with you.”
Maeven pressed her hand to her stomach, as if she suddenly felt nauseous. The sight filled me with even more malicious glee.
“Although I have to pay my respects to you as well,” I said. “You taught me an important lesson during the Seven Spire massacre, one that I’ve been thinking about a lot over the past year, one that I will never, ever forget. And now, thanks to me, you’ll always remember it too.”
Maeven couldn’t stop herself from asking the inevitable question. “And what’s that?”
I leaned forward and gave her a cold, vicious smile. “Someone always wants to kill the queen.”
She kept staring at me, more and more horror filling her amethyst eyes, and more and more worry saturating her scent.
“Good luck with everything,” I purred in a smug, satisfied voice. “I do hope that we can continue our chats through the Cardea mirror from time to time. I’m eager to hear about your progress in holding on to your throne. Goodbye, Queen Maeven. Long may you reign.”
I dipped down into a traditional Bellonan curtsy, holding it far longer than necessary, just to mock her that much more. Then I straightened. Maeven was still standing in front of me, that same shocked, sick expression on her pale face.
I smiled at Maeven again, then turned and left her alone in the corner to think about the horrible thing that I’d done to her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next morning, I stood in the Bellonan camp and watched while the tents were dismantled and packed up for our trip back to Svalin. The work proceeded quickly and efficiently, and everyone was in a jovial, boisterous mood. There were plenty of reasons to celebrate. The Bellonan magiers, masters, and other competitors had done well in the contests, Paloma had won the Tournament of Champions, and the Mortan king was dead.
Without a doubt, it had been the most successful Regalia Games in Bellonan history.
I watched the workers a few more minutes, then walked to the edge of the rise. Down below on the plaza, merchants were trying to sell a few final things off their carts so they wouldn’t have to carry their goods back home, but the constant, enthusiastic hawking had largely died down.
The massive crowds had already vanished from Fortuna, while workers were swabbing decks, hoisting sails, and getting ready to depart on the ships in the harbor. Everyone was packing up to return to their normal lives.
Including the Mortans.
Across the river, servants were breaking down the Mortans’ tents, just like my own people were doing, but the Mortans all seemed quiet and tense, and I didn’t hear any talking or laughter. Off to the left, several guards were digging what looked like a mass grave, probably to bury all the strixes Maximus had slaughtered before our arena fight.
Leonidas was standing near the guards, watching them dig and stroking Lyra’s feathers. Sometime during the night, the strix had flown over to the Mortan camp, and she was stuck to Leonidas’s side like glue. I was glad they had each other. Perhaps, together, they could survive all the dark days ahead.
Leonidas spotted me. He hesitated, then waved. Lyra also lifted her wing in greeting, and I waved back at both of them.
And then there was Maeven.
The new Mortan queen was also standing on the rise, overseeing the guards, and she noticed Leonidas’s waving. She turned toward me, and the motion made her amethyst-and-diamond crown glint in the winter sunlight. I hoped it felt as heavy as an anchor weighing her down.
Still, I wasn’t too eager for Maeven to lose her crown or her head. Not yet. At the very least, I knew how she thought and what she was capable of. As much as I despised her for what she’d done to my family, an enemy you knew and could prepare for was far better than one you didn’t know.
Like Seraphine DiLucri.
She too was out and about today, walking along the waterfront over on Fortuna. Driscol was with her, and the two of them were strolling arm in arm. For once, Seraphine was gesturing and doing all the talking, and Driscol was nodding at her words.
Everyone might think that Driscol was the head of the Mint, but I knew it was really Seraphine. I should have known right from the start, by the way Driscol was always deferring to her. Plus, the geldjagers back in Svalin had said that they didn’t take orders from him. I’d thought they meant Maximus, but now I realized they had been talking about Driscol. Seraphine was just using her brother as a prop, so that people wouldn’t realize she was the true power and force behind the Fortuna Mint.