Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(72)



Driscol looked at Maximus, who drew his index finger in a short line across the table. No. Driscol glanced over at Seraphine. After a moment, she nodded. Yes.

Driscol was clearly caught between the king and his sister—a very uncomfortable place to be. He dropped his gaze to the table again, as if staring at the gold crowns and silver swords in the wood would somehow get him out of this dilemma. Then he sighed and slowly lifted his head.

“The Mint will be happy to extend Queen Everleigh a line of credit,” he mumbled.

His decision surprised me. He was so obviously, deeply in Maximus’s pocket that I’d expected him to refuse and for us to continue our verbal duel. So had Maximus, given the harsh, angry glare he shot at Driscol, who slumped in his chair. Maximus also glared at Seraphine, but she remained as calm and cool as ever.

Fortuna favors her ladies. The female assassin had said that on the plaza earlier, and I was beginning to think that her words had far more meaning than I’d realized—and that there was much more to Seraphine than just a bland smile and a pretty face.

But I pushed her out of my mind and looked at the Mortan king again. “Excellent! Now that the stakes are set, let’s play.”

Maximus glowered at me, and I gave him another thin smile in return. We both knew that the game between us had only just begun.





Chapter Sixteen


Another expectant hush fell over the ballroom, and everyone leaned forward to watch this last game of the night. The dealer shuffled the deck and passed out the cards, which landed with raspy whispers against the gleaming wood.

Maximus leaned forward and picked up his cards. I hadn’t played kronekling with him before, so I studied him carefully. The king had gotten his anger and annoyance under control, and no obvious emotion marred his features, but I could smell his sudden eagerness. He had a good hand.

I picked up my own cards, careful not to show any emotion either. My hand was okay, but it wasn’t strong enough to bid on the armory, so I decided to play for points instead. Like most things, kronekling was a long game, and I was determined to win.

Maximus easily won that first hand, while Zariza took the second, and I won the third. Driscol didn’t win any hands, but then again, he wasn’t trying to. Instead, he played as if he didn’t know the rules, foolishly giving away card after card and point after point, all to benefit Maximus.

Driscol was clearly trying to make sure Maximus won and kept his precious strix. He probably thought it was the only way he could salvage whatever deal he’d made with the Mortan king. He might as well have just handed his cards to Maximus and let the king play them as his own. That’s how badly and obviously Driscol was losing.

Zariza didn’t like Driscol throwing the game either, and she glared at him.

“Are you really that bloody stupid?” she snarled at one point, when Driscol started to play a ten of coins on Maximus’s king, instead of a lower-point card.

Driscol froze, his hand still on his card. He looked at the glaring ogre face on her neck, then slowly slid the card across the table and back into his hand. He hesitated, then laid down an eight of coins, giving Maximus two fewer points.

Zariza rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”

People snickered. Driscol’s face turned an interesting shade of red, but after that, he tried to be a little less obvious in his cheating.

It all came down to the seventh and final hand. Maximus, Zariza, and I had all won two hands each. Maximus had the most points, while I was in second. Zariza was still within striking distance in third, while Driscol was a distant, dismal fourth.

The cards were dealt. I wound up with a fairly even mix of suits and point values, along with the silberkling, the silver sword and second-highest trump. A decent hand, but not good enough to win outright, so I waited to see what the others would do.

Driscol passed on bidding, like always, but Zariza was very aggressive, and she and Maximus got into a bidding war for the armory. Maximus finally prevailed, but he had to bid an outrageous amount, and he would have to take back practically every single card in order to win. But if he did that, his point total would easily outstrip mine, and he would win the tournament, along with all the prizes, including Lyra, who was still sitting in her cage.

Maximus rifled through the armory, picking up a couple of cards and putting others back down. He once again smelled of eagerness, indicating that he had a good hand. “Trumps are swords.”

I had to work very hard to hide my surprise. I’d expected him to pick another suit, but I had four regular sword cards, which meant that I probably had just as many trumps as he did, although mine were mostly low cards. But I did have one high card—the silberkling—and I suddenly saw a way I could use that one single card to win everything.

Maximus played his opening card, the geldkrone. I gave him my lowest trump, as did Zariza. Driscol, of course, gave him a ten. Idiot.

Around and around the table we went, with Maximus playing his trump cards, and trying to force either Zariza or me to throw down the silberkling, since Driscol would have foolishly given it away already. Maximus must have thought that once the silberkling was gone, the rest of his cards were good enough to win all the other rounds. The common strategy probably would have worked if I hadn’t had just as many trumps as he did.

Zariza and Driscol both quickly ran out of trumps, and Maximus realized that I had the silberkling. So he changed his strategy and laid down a queen of crowns, trying to tempt me into trumping it and taking the points, but I had another plan, and I laid down a joker, a throwaway card. Zariza put down a king of crowns, winning that round and stealing those precious points away from Maximus.

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