Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(71)

The dealer cleared his throat again, interrupting the tense silence. “King Maximus,” he said in a low, deferential voice. “What are you offering as your prize?”

Instead of answering the question, Maximus picked up his gold goblet. He started to take a drink but then realized it was empty. He set it down and flapped his hand in a sharp, annoyed motion over at the cart where Lyra was still sitting in her cage.

The bastard wanted another bloody nightcap.

No one immediately moved to do his bidding, so Maximus turned around in his seat and glared at his entourage. That prompted Mercer and Nox to spring into action. Mercer stepped forward and plucked Maximus’s dagger off the table, while Nox headed toward Lyra’s cage.

Leonidas’s hands clenched into even tighter fists, and he moved forward as though he was going to step in between Nox and his beloved strix, but Maeven latched on to her son’s shoulder again, holding him in place.

Leonidas stared at his mother, a silent plea in his eyes, but Maeven didn’t do or say anything. After a few seconds, the boy’s head dropped, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Lyra must have sensed his anguish, because she let out a couple of low, sad notes. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it almost sounded like she sang the word goodbye. The mournful cries, along with the overpowering scents of her dusty resignation and Leonidas’s ashy heartbreak, stabbed into my heart like three separate swords, cutting me to pieces.

But what could I do? How could I stop Maximus from killing the strix? I looked at the king, then at Leonidas, then at Lyra in her cage. No answers there, so I dropped my gaze to the gaming table. Driscol’s chest of gold, Zariza’s ogre pendant, and my trinkets gleamed in the center of the wood, and the answer suddenly came to me.

“Why not put up the strix as your prize?”

At the sound of my voice, everyone looked at me, including Maximus, who swiveled back around in his seat to face me again. His golden eyebrows creased together, as if he were truly surprised by my suggestion.

“The strix is not available,” he said.

“Why not? It belongs to you, doesn’t it? Can’t you do whatever you like with it?” I gestured at his empty goblet. “That’s certainly the impression you gave earlier.”

My voice took on a loud, sneering note, and a few snickers sounded. Maximus’s eyes narrowed, and once again he practically smoldered with anger. He didn’t like being mocked.

“Besides, I’ve always wanted my very own strix,” I continued in a lighter voice, as though the creature’s fate didn’t matter to me at all. “I always thought they were so much more interesting than ponies, and now I finally have a chance to win one. Surely you wouldn’t deny me that childhood dream?”

I gestured at the other items on the table. “Especially when you have an opportunity to win so much more in return.”

He stared at me, speculation filling his face. Maximus was wondering if I really wanted the creature or if I’d figured out his dirty little secret, that he planned to drink the strix’s blood to absorb its magic. No, the creature might not have as much monetary value as Driscol’s gold or Zariza’s bauble, but it was priceless to Maximus, the same way my trinkets were priceless to me. The Mortan king didn’t want to risk giving up a single drop of the strix’s blood and the power that it contained.

“How much is a strix worth?” I asked, further goading him. “I’ll happily put up the cost—in gold. We’ll think of it as a bonus prize for the winner.”

Some low whistles sounded, along with several appreciative claps. It was a more than generous offer, and one that Maximus couldn’t turn down without arousing suspicion about what was so special about this particular strix. But he still tried to weasel out of the corner that I’d just twirled him into.

“You couldn’t handle a strix, Everleigh,” he said. “They’re quite vicious unless properly trained.”

I gave him a thin smile. “Anything can be vicious when it’s stuffed in a cage. I’ll manage. Now, name your price.”

“Yes, Maximus,” Zariza chimed in. “Do tell us what this strix is worth to you.”

He shot her a sour look, but he had run out of excuses. “Ten thousand gold crowns.”

It was a small fortune and far more than what the strix was actually worth, if you could ever truly put a price on a creature’s life.

I leaned back in my seat and gave an airy, dismissive wave of my hand. “Done.”

Maximus’s eyes narrowed again. “You have ten thousand gold crowns? You, personally? We don’t gamble with our kingdom’s coffers here, Everleigh. And if you don’t have the money to pay for the strix, then it can’t be used as a prize.”

Ah, so that was his scheme. But it wasn’t going to work.

“Oh, yes,” I purred. “I have ten thousand gold crowns.”

“How did you get your hands on so much money?” Driscol asked, an incredulous note in his voice.

“Haven’t you heard? I won a black-ring gladiator match several months ago. I made sure that the purse was quite generous before I stepped one foot into the arena.”

I glanced over and winked at Serilda. The troupe leader rolled her eyes, but she grinned back at me.

“Of course, I don’t have the money with me at this very moment, but I’m sure the Fortuna Mint can extend me a line of credit.”