Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(82)
“Oh, really?”
Maximus probably thought I was going to accuse him of sending the boy to murder me. So did Nox and Maeven, from the way they both tensed. Driscol looked nervous as well, although Seraphine was as calm as ever.
“Oh, yes.” I looked around the terrace, making sure I had everyone’s attention. Time to once again focus on the second part of my Regalia plan, showing strength and cleverness in front of the other royals. “Leonidas saved my life last night. Why, the boy is a bloody hero.”
Silence dropped over the terrace, and everyone went utterly still. No one seemed to know what to do or say, including Maximus, who blinked in confusion.
“A hero?” he said. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
I gestured at Leonidas, who shuffled up beside me. The boy’s face was pale, and he looked like he might faint, so I patted his shoulder, trying to reassure him, then turned back to Maximus.
“Yes, a hero,” I repeated. “You see, that strix I won during the kronekling tournament is actually Leonidas’s strix. I didn’t realize that, or I never would have taken it away from the boy.”
Maximus kept blinking, still not sure where I was going with this.
“Leonidas came to the Bellonan camp last night to say goodbye to his beloved strix. Such a good boy, going to honor the outcome of the tournament, regardless of how much it hurt to lose his best friend.” I glanced at Leonidas, but he didn’t contradict my lies. “Anyway, Leonidas saw some assassins sneaking into my camp. He sounded the alarm, and he stopped the assassins from hurting anyone, including me.”
Maximus frowned, as did Nox, but I focused on Maeven. Anger stained her cheeks a bright, hot pink, and her hands were fisted in her skirt. She didn’t know what I was doing with her son, but she didn’t like it. Too damn bad. This game was just getting started.
“I was so impressed with Leonidas’s bravery that I’ve invited him to stay in the Bellonan camp for the duration of the Regalia as my special guest,” I said, looking at the king again. “I hope that you’ll agree, Maximus. I think it would be a wonderful way to foster better relations between our two kingdoms.”
Maximus’s eyes narrowed, and fury sparked in his dark purple gaze. He knew I was mocking him with Leonidas’s failure to kill me. No doubt, as soon as he’d seen Leonidas, Maximus had thought I would tell everyone that the boy had tried to murder me. Then the Mortan king could have publicly denounced his nephew or perhaps taken him into custody to be executed at a later date. But I’d surprised Maximus by painting the boy as a hero, and he couldn’t claim otherwise. Not without revealing that he’d sent the boy to try to assassinate me.
“Of course.” Maximus said the words through gritted teeth. “I’m sure that my nephew will enjoy your hospitality.”
I gestured at the buffet tables. “Leonidas, why don’t you get something to eat? You look famished.”
Leonidas actually looked sick to his stomach, but he shuffled over and started filling a plate with food, although I doubted he would eat any of it. Still, it gave him something to do, and it got him a little farther away from the rest of the Mortans.
“Enjoy the tournament,” I said.
I smiled at Maximus again, then walked over and took a seat at the royal table. The other kings and queens slowly moved forward and took their seats as well. Eon tipped his head respectfully to me. Ruri did the same, and the dragon on her hand actually winked at me. Cisco remained as sour as ever, ignoring me, while Heinrich and Zariza were both grinning.
“Well done, Everleigh,” Zariza whispered as she sat down beside me. “Very well done.”
I shrugged. “Well, it’s not as complicated as the Tanzen Falter, but I know how to dance around people like Maximus.”
“Yes, you do.” Zariza’s grin slowly faded. “The only question now is, how will he retaliate?”
I glanced over at Maximus. Even though he was on the opposite side of the terrace, I could clearly smell his hot jalape?o rage. It was practically blasting out of his pores like lightning from a magier’s fingertips.
Zariza was right. I had just kicked a nest of coral vipers. Now all I could do was wait and see how many of them slithered out and tried to kill me.
*
Five minutes later, Cho strode out to the center of the arena floor and used his booming voice to announce the start of the tournament. The crowd went wild, yelling, cheering, clapping, screaming, and whistling, and the scent of everyone’s collective eagerness flooded the air. The other events and competitions were entertaining enough, but this was what everyone had come to see.
Since Mercer was the defending champion, he had the honor of participating in the first bout. Cho announced him, and the Mortan crown prince strode out to the middle of the arena.
Like all the competitors, Mercer was wearing traditional gladiator fighting leathers—a tight, fitted sleeveless shirt, a knee-length kilt, and flat sandals with straps that wound up past his ankles. His leathers were a dark purple, with the fancy cursive M of the Morricone royal crest stretching across his chest in silver thread. A silver shield that featured the same M was strapped to his forearm, and he was also carrying a sword with a silver hilt.
The Mortan crown prince held his arms out wide, soaking up the crowd’s raucous cheers. Mercer turned around in a slow circle, then stepped into the center ring. The wooden ring had been painted a bright, glossy red, indicating that the bouts were only to first blood.