Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(64)
She stepped back, and it was my turn to wave. The applause was just as polite for me, but the Ungers were much more enthusiastic, and everyone could hear that I was the clear winner. Still smiling wide, I dipped into another curtsy, acknowledging the applause and savoring my victory.
Zariza signaled to the musicians that they could take a break, and everyone started milling around the ballroom again, eating, drinking, and gossiping, although many folks kept glancing at the two of us, wondering how one queen would handle being defeated by another.
Xenia stepped up to Zariza’s side, while Sullivan did the same for me. Paloma flashed me a thumbs-up, and Auster, Serilda, and Cho all smiled at me. Then the four of them slipped back into the crowd to see if they could pick up any more gossip about the plaza attack, the Mortans, or anything else noteworthy. The longer the ball went on, the more people would drink, and the looser their tongues would become.
Zariza tipped her head to me. “You dance exceptionally well.” She paused. “For a Bellonan.”
“As do you.” I also paused. “For an Unger.”
The other queen eyed me, as did the ogre face on her neck. Then she threw back her head and laughed, long, loud, and deep, and her inner ogre chimed in with its own silent chuckles.
Zariza smiled. “Xenia also warned me about your biting tongue. I think you wield it even better than you dance.”
Xenia shrugged. “I told you not to underestimate her.”
“Yes, well, I won’t make that mistake again,” Zariza murmured. “Regardless, you clearly won the dance, Everleigh. Congratulations.”
I tipped my head to her, acknowledging her grace in defeat. Then I held out my hand. “And our alliance?”
Perhaps it was gauche to bring up my prize mere minutes after beating her, but I hadn’t danced so bloody long and hard for nothing. Besides, Xenia was right. I needed to secure Zariza’s support before the Morricones or the DiLucris tried to kill me again.
Zariza stared at my outstretched hand. For a moment, I wondered if I’d made a mistake in asking so soon, but she stepped forward and took my hand in hers. “From this moment forward, Unger and Bellona are allies. Until the mountains crumble to ash.”
“Until the mountains crumble to ash,” I said, repeating the traditional Ungerian phrase.
And then we shook on it, officially sealing our alliance—
“I must congratulate you both on such a masterful performance.” A low, silky voice slithered through the air. “It truly was something to see.”
Startled, Zariza dropped my hand and whirled around.
Maximus was standing in front of us, with Mercer by his side, and Nox and Maeven lurking behind them.
The Mortans had finally arrived.
*
At the sight of the Mortans, faint murmurs rippled through the crowd, and several people sidled closer to us, not so subtly trying to see and hear everything that was happening.
Like many men in attendance, Maximus was wearing a short, formal jacket. The Morricone family crest—that fancy cursive M surrounded by a ring of strix feathers—was done in gold thread over the place where his heart would be, if he actually had one.
The crest was fairly large, about the size of my palm, and gleamed like liquid gold, as though it were ink that had somehow been stamped onto the midnight-purple fabric. Gold buttons boasting the same symbol marched down the front of his jacket. No weapons dangled from his black leather belt, but he once again reeked of magic.
Mercer and Nox were dressed the same way, although the crest on Mercer’s jacket was much smaller, only about the size of a coin, while the one on Nox’s jacket was done in silver thread instead of gold. The Morricone crest didn’t adorn Maeven’s much lighter, lilac-colored gown, and it wasn’t engraved into her silver choker studded with amethysts, her two matching bracelets, or the ring that gleamed on her index finger.
My hand slid into my dress pocket, and my fingers curled around the vial of wormroot hidden there. My plan had been to dose Maximus’s food or drink with the poison, but now that he was standing right in front of me, I wondered if I could leap forward, close the distance between us, and smash the glass against his smug face.
Probably, but there was no guarantee the poison would kill him that way, and the Mortan guards lurking nearby would almost certainly cut me down. It wasn’t worth the risk. No, I would bide my time and see if a more feasible opportunity presented itself.
Zariza tossed her long red hair over one shoulder, as though the Mortans’ sudden appearance already bored her. “Why, Maximus,” she drawled. “You finally decided to grace us with your presence.”
“I had some business to attend to before the kronekling tournament,” he replied. “But I’m so glad the two of you were able to entertain everyone with your little . . . demonstration.”
I clutched the vial of poison in my pocket even tighter to help me resist the urge to lunge forward, wrap my fingers around the king’s throat, and squeeze the life out of him. But my anger didn’t go unnoticed, and Mercer smirked at me, as did Nox. I glanced at Maeven, expecting her to sneer at me as well, but her face was absolutely blank.
She was far too worried to mock me right now.
The sharp scent of her concern rolled off her body, burning my nose with its unexpected intensity. What was Maeven so worried about? It wasn’t like I could give in to my dark desires, grab someone’s weapon, and try to kill her and her murderous brother in the middle of the ballroom.