Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(36)
I kept glancing around the terrace, and I finally spotted two friendly faces—King Heinrich Ripley and his son Dominic. Sullivan’s father and older half brother.
The two men put down their breakfast plates and walked over to me. Heinrich and Dominic were both dressed in black tunics, along with black leggings and boots, and the Ripley royal crest—a snarling gargoyle face—was stitched in black thread on their gray jackets. They both had the same dark brown hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and lightning magic that Sullivan did, although I had always thought Sullivan was by far the most handsome and powerful. Then again, my opinion was a little biased.
“Everleigh!” Heinrich said in a warm voice, grasping my hands. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“And you too, Heinrich.” I squeezed his hands in my own. “You look well.”
And he truly did. A few months ago, Heinrich had been near death, thanks to the amethyst-eye poison that Dahlia, his longtime mistress and Sullivan’s mother, had been slipping into his evening tea. I’d used my immunity to cleanse the foul magic from his system, and Heinrich now seemed fully recovered, healthy and strong again. At least when it came to his body, although I knew that the sting of Dahlia’s betrayal would always linger in his heart.
I turned to the crown prince. “And you also look well, Dominic.”
“Hello, Everleigh.” He smiled, then leaned forward and kissed my cheek before drawing back.
I glanced around the terrace again. “Where’s Gemma?”
Heinrich and Dominic exchanged a glance.
“She’s back home with Alvis and Grimley,” Dominic said in a smooth voice. “She wanted to come, of course, but we thought it would be better if she stayed at the palace. Just in case the Regalia turns out to be more . . . exciting than usual.”
He smiled again, but the sharp scent of vinegary tension wafted off him. Dominic must be worried that the Mortans would try to kill him and his father again during the Games. I didn’t fault him for taking precautions with his daughter’s safety.
“And Rhea?” I asked.
Dominic looked to his right, and a much wider, far more genuine smile softened his face. “Here with me.”
I followed his gaze over to a woman standing next to the wrought-iron railing along the front of the terrace. She was wearing black boots and leggings, along with a gray tunic with a gargoyle face done in black thread over her heart. Several gray crystal pins held her shoulder-length curly black hair back from her face, showing off her topaz eyes and ebony skin. In addition to being beautiful, Captain Rhea was also a fearsome warrior, and a dagger hung from her belt, along with a sword with three rubies set into the hilt to augment her own impressive strength magic.
Rhea was speaking with a short woman wearing a black jacket with red buttons who was part of the Ungerian contingent. The Andvarian captain noticed me and waved. I returned the gesture.
“I’m glad that Rhea is here to watch over you,” I said. “And I’m especially glad that Gemma is far away and safe at Glitnir. The poor girl already survived one massacre. She doesn’t need to be in the middle of this circus too.”
Heinrich and Dominic both grimaced, their faces tight with tension. Prince Frederich Ripley had died during the Seven Spire massacre, and they had almost lost Gemma during it as well, so they knew how dangerous royal gatherings could be.
“Where are the Mortans?” I asked in a low voice. “Why aren’t they here yet?”
“I’ve been discreetly asking around, but no one seems to know,” Dominic replied. “No one has spotted any activity on the Mortan side of the river. No servants or guards approaching, no tents being set up at their usual campsite, nothing like that. There’s no indication that the king is anywhere near Fortuna.”
“He’ll be here,” Heinrich said in a dark tone. “He never misses the Regalia, and he won’t pass up this chance to remind us just how much we should all fear him. And he’ll want to get a look at you in person, Everleigh. Especially since you keep killing all the assassins he sends after you.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered.
Heinrich gave me a sympathetic look, while Dominic waved over a servant, who handed each one of us a tall, frosty glass of kiwi mimosa. I discreetly smelled the drink, but I didn’t sense anything that shouldn’t be there, so I took a sip. The tart taste of the kiwi exploded on my tongue, along with the fizzy bubbles of the champagne. It was a perfect, refreshing way to start the gathering.
Over our drinks, Heinrich and Dominic filled me in on their conversations with the other royals and nobles, along with the gossip and rumors they’d heard. Most of it was typical stuff. Polite small talk and inane chitchat about the weather, the Regalia, and the upcoming yuletide season, as well as a few salacious whispers about various scandals. Nothing important, but that didn’t surprise me. Serilda and Xenia had told me that nothing of consequence usually happened until the first of the royal balls, which was being held tonight.
As I listened to Heinrich and Dominic’s tales, I kept looking around, searching for the Mortans. And I wasn’t the only one who was on edge because they weren’t here.
Captain Auster was standing a few feet away with the Bellonan guards, his hand on his sword, suspiciously eyeing anyone who came near me. Paloma was doing the same thing, her fingers resting against her mace handle. Xenia was sipping a mimosa and speaking with some of the Ungers, but she was still clutching her cane. Cho was chatting up a servant, trying to convince the other man to hand over his entire tray of pastries, but he too kept glancing around. Sullivan was speaking with Rhea, but he also kept looking out over the arena.