Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(45)

It was a flat-out lie, since I trained with Serilda every single day, something she had insisted upon, even after I had become queen. I was extremely grateful for Serilda’s skill and ruthlessness in knocking me on my ass time and time again, since that continued training had saved my life more than once over the past several months.

Maximus opened his mouth, no doubt to belittle and mock me again, but I cut him off.

“Besides, my thread master worked far too long and hard for me to ruin my Regalia wardrobe with blood, sweat, and dust. Why, she would kill me herself for that,” I drawled.

The other royals politely laughed at my joke. Everyone except for Maximus, but I didn’t care if he laughed. If I had my way, he’d be screaming before the Games were over. Him, Maeven, and the other Mortans, and Driscol along with them.

I stared at Maximus, silently daring him to challenge me again, but he decided to retreat—for now. He stood up and waved to his entourage. Mercer, Nox, Maeven, and Leonidas all shot to their feet and hurried over to flank him.

“Forgive me for leaving so early, but we flew directly here from the capital this morning, and it was a long, tiring journey.” Maximus looked at me. “Made even more so by my spontaneous display on the arena floor.”

This was the first time he had alluded to the assassin’s arrow, and everyone on the terrace tensed. Maximus kept staring at me, but not a flicker of emotion crossed my features. Diante had been right back at Seven Spire. That skill had already come in handy during the Regalia.

“But I suppose it’s a king’s duty to give the people a show,” Maximus continued. “I hope everyone was pleased with my little weather performance.”

I had to hold back a derisive snort. No, I had not been pleased to see exactly how much magic he had. I hadn’t thought Maximus would be easy to kill, but the depths of his power were forcing me to rethink my plots for eliminating him.

“Either way, I want to rest up for the kronekling tournament tonight,” he finished.

As part of the Regalia, the kings and queens held a competition among themselves—kronekling, a card game that was played in front of all the other royals, nobles, and advisors. The game was always held during the opening-night ball, and it often set the tone for the rest of the Regalia, as the winning royal earned bragging rights that often bolstered their kingdom’s competitors to even greater feats of athletic and magical prowess.

“Oh, yes,” I replied. “I’m sure it will be a game that none of us will ever forget.”

Maximus eyed me a moment longer before waving his hand at Driscol, indicating that the other man could finally approach His Royal Majesty again. The two of them spoke in low voices for several seconds before Driscol nodded and stepped back.

Maximus crooked his finger at first Mercer, then Nox, gesturing for the two younger men to follow him. He didn’t acknowledge Maeven or Leonidas. He didn’t even look at them as he left the terrace, and I realized that he hadn’t introduced them earlier, or called their names, or done anything to indicate that he was even remotely aware of their presence. It was like his sister and her son were as invisible to him as the servants were, and he only noticed the pair whenever he wanted them to fetch him something. An interesting—and insulting—family dynamic.

Mercer sneered at me again, then followed his father. He didn’t acknowledge Maeven or Leonidas either. Nox shot Maeven a guilty look and hurried to catch up with his legitimate relatives.

Maeven held her position on the terrace, her face calm and impassive, but a muscle ticked in her jaw, and hot, peppery anger blasted off her body. She didn’t like being ignored by her brother, especially not in front of so many rich, powerful, important people. Leonidas stood quietly beside his mother, ducking his head and doing his best to remain as small and invisible as possible.

Once again, I felt a surprising amount of sympathy for the boy. Unlike his other relatives, he didn’t seem to be an overtly bad sort, although I wondered how long that would last. Sooner or later, Leonidas would have to become as ruthless as his other relatives, if only to survive their petty games and deadly power struggles.

Maeven noticed me staring at her son, and she put her arm around his shoulders, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Leonidas nodded, then left the terrace, heading after Maximus, Mercer, and Nox, although the three of them had already vanished into the crowd at the bottom of the bleachers.

That left Maeven standing all alone. Once again, I was tempted to draw my sword, close the distance between us, and bury my blade in her heart, but I tamped down the urge. I couldn’t kill her. Not here, not now.

But I could certainly add to her humiliation.

I was still clutching my empty mug, so I got to my feet and toasted Maeven with it. “To family,” I called out. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

At my obvious mockery, chuckles rang out from several people, including Heinrich and Zariza, who were still sitting beside me.

Maeven’s nostrils flared, her amethyst eyes glittered with anger, and hot pink streaked across her cheekbones, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she whirled around and stormed off the terrace. I watched her go with a thin smile on my face.

Maximus might still be breathing, but I had definitely won this round in my ongoing battle against Maeven.





Chapter Eleven


With Maximus gone, the other kings and queens said their goodbyes and left.