“I’m sure Tolliver has far better things to do than fight in the tournament,” I said, trying to tell Fullman no without snapping and losing my temper as I so often did with him.
But of course Fullman didn’t take the hint. He never did. “But Tolliver has been training for months. Besides, someone from our family has been in the tournament for the last five generations. It’s a time-honored tradition for a Fullman to compete, and Tolliver should lead the Bellonan warriors, just as I did when I was his age.” His chin lifted, and his chest and belly both puffed up with bloated pride.
“I certainly admire Tolliver’s . . . dedication,” I said, once again trying to be diplomatic. “But Paloma is the highest-ranked gladiator in Svalin and one of the top-ranked gladiators on the continent. She’s earned the right to lead the other warriors and represent Bellona.”
A disgusted sneer twisted Fullman’s face, and he threw up his hands in frustration. “But she’s not even from Bellona! She’s some Floresian ogre morph of questionable lineage!”
Red-hot anger roared through me at the way he so casually dismissed my friend and her skills and mocked her heritage. Paloma was right. She was worth twenty of this pompous, arrogant bastard. No, not twenty. Two hundred. Two thousand. Two million.
Fullman must have realized his grave mistake, because he quickly lowered his hands and schooled his face into a more neutral expression. “Not that there’s anything wrong with Floresians. Or ogre morphs,” he added, although we could both hear the lie in his high, nervous tone.
“Let me be clear,” I said, my own voice growing colder and more menacing with each and every word. “Tolliver is a piss-poor fighter. He doesn’t even like to get his tunic dirty. He never did, not even when we were children. He will get eliminated in the first minute in the first round of the tournament. Paloma, on the other hand, will easily advance, probably all the way to the finals. So Paloma will be representing Bellona in the tournament, along with whomever else I choose. Not Tolliver.”
“But . . . but it’s my family’s tradition,” Fullman sputtered.
“I care about family traditions, but I care even more about winning. And we both know that Bellona won’t win anything—not one thing—if Tolliver competes.”
I glared at Fullman, daring him to contradict me, but for once he did the smart thing and shut his mouth, although hot, peppery anger blasted off him, along with a strong note of smoky deception. I’d pissed him off, and he was planning to retaliate. Well, this wouldn’t be the first time some noble had started scheming against me, although Fullman had enough land, men, and money to do more damage than most.
“You’re going to regret this,” he hissed.
“That’s the beauty of being queen—I never have to regret anything.”
I kept glaring at him, letting him see that I wasn’t the least bit intimidated. An angry red flush stained Fullman’s cheeks, and he spun around and stormed across the bridge, heading back toward the palace.
The sharp slap-slap-slap-slap of his boots quickly faded away, but it was almost immediately replaced by another, softer set of footsteps. Lady Diante glided forward and stopped beside me. I’d been so focused on Fullman that I’d forgotten she was still lurking around.
“I hope you enjoyed the show.”
“Seeing you put Fullman in his place? Absolutely,” she murmured in a soft, silky voice. “Little things like that always brighten my day.”
I snorted out a laugh.
She smiled, and a bit of genuine warmth crinkled her face. Diante could be as ruthless as any noble, but there were times like these when I thought she almost respected me—at least until she tried to undercut me with some new proposal that would benefit her family. But I couldn’t fault her for that. Seven Spire was its own sort of arena, and everyone was always ready, willing, and eager to stab their rivals in the back to further advance their own position and standing.
“What can I do for you, Diante?” I asked, getting down to business.
“I also wanted to inquire about the Tournament of Champions.”
I sighed. “Let me guess. You want one of your grandsons to compete.”
She shrugged. “We both know that you’ve chosen Paloma with good reason, and you’re right in that she could potentially win the tournament.” She paused. “But I would like you to consider Nico for one of the slots.”
Nico was one of the best warriors at Seven Spire and especially skilled at archery. I’d already been considering him for the Tournament of Champions, along with the separate archery competition. I had expected Diante to suggest some relative with no skill at all, someone she wanted to placate or appease, like Fullman had with Tolliver, but she was offering me a perfectly reasonable choice, one that all the other nobles could agree on. It made me even more suspicious about what she was really up to.
“The two of us have had our issues,” Diante continued. “But Nico is a fine warrior, and he deserves to be in the tournament. All I’m asking is that you judge my grandson on his own merits, and not on mine.”
I kept eyeing her, but once again, she seemed sincere, and she smelled strongly of lime truthfulness. More important, she was right. I should judge Nico on his own skills, and not on the problems I had with his grandmother.
“Very well. Nico will be an excellent addition to the tournament, as well as the archery competition. You can inform him of my decision, and tell him to report to the royal lawn in the morning to train with Paloma and the others.”
Diante dropped into a respectful curtsy. “Thank you, my queen.”
She straightened, but instead of leaving now that she’d gotten what she wanted, she stared at the platform in the distance. Her golden gaze flicked from one dead body to the next, and a thoughtful expression creased her face. “You’re doing the right thing displaying the geldjagers like this.”
Her approval surprised me. “Why would you say that?”
She turned toward me. “Because the DiLucris are one of the biggest threats to Bellona. They covet our land and tearstone mines just like the Mortans do. My family has had several run-ins with the DiLucris over the years, and their geldjagers have killed many of my people. Men, women, children.”
The scent of hot, peppery anger blasted off her, searing my nose with its sudden, sharp intensity. Diante owned fruit orchards in the southern districts, many of which bordered the Summanus River close to Fortuna Island where the DiLucris made their home.
“In some ways, the DiLucris are even worse than the Mortans,” Diante continued, her voice dripping with disgust. “They don’t care about tradition or honor or playing the long game with their enemies. They just butcher and pillage whenever the mood strikes them. Two years ago, a group of geldjagers burned one of my pear orchards to the ground. Not because my people had done anything to them, but just because it amused them. Just because they wanted to watch the trees burn.”
She fell silent, but memories darkened her eyes, and more peppery anger surged off her, along with a strong note of salty grief. This was by far the most open, honest, and vulnerable Diante had ever been in my presence, although the cynical part of me couldn’t help but think that it was a carefully scripted act in order to manipulate me into doing whatever it was that she wanted.
“I’ve never heard you speak about anyone like this before, especially not a family as powerful as the DiLucris,” I said, trying to determine her motives.
She shrugged again. “That’s because I never had anyone willing to listen before.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I told Cordelia about the geldjagers, she said that the DiLucris were too rich, too far away from Svalin, and too well guarded on their island to attack. She did nothing.” Diante spat out the last word, then drew in a breath, visibly trying to rein in her temper. “But tonight, you actually did something.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
She shrugged yet again. “I know, but I appreciate it all the same.”
I drew in a b
reath, tasting her scent, but she still reeked of lime truthfulness. She really was glad that the geldjagers were dead and on display. They must have killed someone she deeply loved, for her to despise them this much.
However, I still wondered why she was being so candid. Was she trying to warn me to be careful during the Regalia, since the Games were being held on the DiLucris’ island? Was she hinting that the DiLucris were in league with the Mortans? Was she trying to push me into going after the DiLucris? Or did she have some other plan in mind?
“May I offer you some advice, my queen?” Diante asked, although she didn’t wait for my agreement before speaking again. “Since you have picked this path, you need to continue on it, especially during the Regalia. Be bold, daring, brutal, and above all merciless. It’s the only way anyone is going to take you seriously.”
“I don’t need a reminder of just how little people think of me, both here in Bellona and abroad.” My voice came out louder and harsher than I had intended, and my cheeks burned with embarassment, despite the cool night air.
Diante dipped her head in apology. “I meant no disrespect. Truly. I have come to think quite a lot of you over the past few months, Everleigh. So have the other nobles. It’s the fools like Fullman who continue to underestimate you.”
She gestured up at the palace columns in the distance. “You rather remind me of a caladrius. Such a normal, innocent, quiet facade, but so much raw power lurking underneath. I admire how you hid your true strength from everyone at court. Smart of you to play that long game, especially when Vasilia was alive.”
“But?” I asked, still wondering where she was going with this.
“But the time for hiding has passed. Something I think you already know, given your order to display the geldjagers’ bodies. It is time to show your true strength, Everleigh, when it comes to both your reign and your magic. And it is especially time for you to play your own long game.”
Her words mirrored my own thoughts, although I would never tell her so.
“Why, I think you could be one of the finest queens Bellona has ever known, if . . .” She deliberately let her voice trail off.
I sighed and asked the inevitable question. “If what?”
“If you quit worrying so much about what your actions might cost others.” Diante gave me a speculative look. “You have people who will fight, kill, and die on your command, and yet you still prefer to handle such things yourself. It’s no secret that you would much rather put yourself in danger rather than your people. An admirable, if foolish quality in a queen.”
She paused. “Isn’t that why you faced down the geldjagers this evening?”
I didn’t respond, although I was cursing on the inside. It seemed as though my story about Serilda and Cho killing the geldjagers hadn’t been as convincing as I’d hoped.
At my continued silence, Diante’s golden eyes narrowed, and a pleased smile crinkled her face. “Not a flicker of emotion at my accusation. Excellent. That skill will serve you well during the Regalia.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware I needed your approval.”
She let out a low, amused chuckle. “That’s because you don’t. You are the queen of Bellona. You have convinced me of it, Everleigh, and I am not an easy person to sway. Now it’s time for you to convince everyone else—for all our sakes.”
Once again, I didn’t respond.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, my queen, I’m going to tell Nico the good news about the tournament.” Diante’s expression turned smug. “Along with Fullman, of course.”
I snorted out another laugh. “Of course.”
Diante curtsied again, then glided across the bridge, heading back toward the palace.
I watched her go, turning her words over in my mind. Diante was right. By displaying the geldjagers’ bodies, I had chosen a new path, a bolder path, one where I would finally show my true power. Now I had to figure out how to stay on this path and achieve my ultimate goal, the thing I had secretly been dreaming about doing ever since the Seven Spire massacre.
Diante was also right about something else—I was already worrying about what my actions would cost my friends and how I could complete my mission without getting us all killed.
But I was too tired to puzzle it out tonight. Ensuring my kingdom’s survival, along with my own, was a problem for tomorrow.
Unfortunately for me, I always had plenty of problems for tomorrow.
Chapter Five
I left the geldjagers’ bodies behind in the plaza, crossed the bridge, and headed into the palace.
Given the late hour, the wide hallways and spacious common areas were deserted, and I didn’t run into any other nobles. Guards were stationed here and there, and they all snapped to attention when they spotted me. I nodded at them and went to my chambers on the third floor.
The double doors were standing open, and I walked inside to find Sullivan surrounded by women.
One of them was about my age, with dark honey-blond hair, blue eyes, and rosy skin. She was quite pretty, as were the other two women, who were both younger but had similar features. All three were gathered around Sullivan, who was standing on a round dais with his arms held out to his sides and a pained expression on his face. Thick bolts of fabric, fat spools of thread, and plump pincushions glittering with needles littered several nearby tables.
I leaned against one of the doors and crossed my arms over my chest. “I stay behind to oversee Auster and his men and come back to find you besieged by beautiful women. The life of a consort truly is a grand one.”
Calandre, my thread master, and Camille and Cerana, her two younger sisters, looked up at the sound of my drawling voice. The two teenage girls tittered and sidled away from Sullivan, as though they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have, but Calandre raised her measuring tape and went back to work. The three women had been in my chambers every night this week, designing, sewing, and perfecting my and Sullivan’s Regalia wardrobes.
“I feel like a bloody puppet,” Sullivan muttered, still holding his arms out to his sides. “If I’d known that being your consort meant this sort of cruel, prolonged torture, then I would have reconsidered declaring my love for you.”
Camille and Cerana gasped at his grumbled words, but I grinned.
“Ah, the trials we suffer for love,” I said in mock sympathy.
Sullivan’s eyes narrowed, but a smile curved the corner of his lips.
“A royal ball will be held every single night of the Regalia,” Calandre said in a patient voice, as though she’d explained this more than once. “You need new jackets and tunics for all of them, not to mention the other events you’re scheduled to attend. And not just any old clothes, but proper garments that are as fine as what the other royals will be wearing. Things that will make you look strong and imposing.”
“Oh, I think that Evie is strong and imposing enough for the both of us,” Sullivan joked.
“Absolutely,” Calandre agreed. “And you have to look as polished as she does. Otherwise, you will completely clash with the gowns and other garments I’ve designed for her. I won’t have you ruining all my hard work just because you have the patience of a petulant child.”
Sullivan looked at me for help, but I held my hands up in surrender.
“You should listen to Calandre,” I said. “She knows her fashions better than anyone.”
Sullivan grumbled something under his breath, but he lifted his arms a little higher. Calandre winked at me and kept right on working.
Fifteen minutes later, the thread master announced she had finished recording Sullivan’s measurements, and she and her sisters packed up their supplies and left the chambers. I thanked them for their time, then closed and locked the double doors behind them.
A long, tired sigh escaped my lips, and I leaned back against the stone.
“Problems with the nobles?” Sullivan asked, stepping off the dais. “I saw Fullman and Diante heading out of the palace earlier.”
I sighed again. “Fullman questioned my every decision regarding the DiLucris and the geldjagers before threatening me for not including Tolliver in the Tournament of Champions.”
Sympathy filled his face. “And Diante?”
“She asked me to include Nico in the tournament, which I agreed to do.” I paused. “And then she said that I’d made the right decision displaying the geldjagers’ bodies. She was actually quite supportive.”
I told him everything Diante had said, including how the geldjagers had burned her orchard and killed her people. The only thing I omitted was her advice about continuing down my bold, brutal new path. I wanted some more time to think about that before I told Sullivan my true plans for the Regalia.
“Maybe she’s finally warming up to you,” Sullivan suggested. “Or at least hates the DiLucris enough to align with you on this.”
I shrugged. “If I had to bet, I would say it was her hatred of the DiLucris that made her so approving. Diante might be inscrutable, but she wasn’t faking her rage, grief, and heartache. I could smell how angry she was.”
Sullivan studied me. “She sided with you, but you still seem upset. Why? Did she say something else?”
“No. But Diante’s story and facing down the geldjagers earlier reminded me of . . .” My voice trailed off, and I couldn’t finish my thought.
“Of what?”
“Of some things that happened after my parents were murdered.” I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop the awful memories from flooding my mind.
“You’ve never told me much about your parents,” Sullivan said. “Or what happened to you right after they died.”
I shook my head again. “It’s not something I like to dwell on. And I have far too many problems right now to start digging up painful memories of the past.”
Sullivan studied me a moment longer. Then he shrugged out of the dark blue cloak that Calandre had draped over his shoulders, tossed it aside, and prowled over to where I was still leaning against the doors.
Crush the King Page 6
