That first loud, resounding slap of my feet on the floor unlocked my mind, and all the movements and steps of the Tanzen Falter came rushing back to me. I had always loved dancing, and despite the high stakes, I was determined to fully enjoy this moment—and give everyone here a show they would never forget.
As the dance went on, my smile grew more genuine, and I lost myself in the rise and fall of the music, the ebb and flow of the steps, and the twists and turns of my arms, hands, and fingers flying through the air.
Up, down, right, left, twirl, twirl, twirl . . .
Point the right toe, then the left . . .
Then hop, hop, hop, hop . . .
We moved from the first section of the dance and into the second, then the third, then the fourth. The one good thing about the Tanzen Falter was that it was much shorter than the Tanzen Freund, only seven sections instead of thirteen, although the pace was much, much quicker. My endurance was exceptional, given all the long hours I had spent training and sparring with Serilda over the past several months, but even I found the dance to be extremely tiring.
Sweat quickly beaded on my temples and gathered in the small of my back underneath my gown. My cheeks felt hot, as did my feet, which started throbbing from my slamming them down onto the floor so many times. But I didn’t care that I didn’t look cool, queenly, and regal. No, all I cared about right now was winning. And not just to secure my alliance. I wanted to win for me, and for Xenia too. Because I had put the time, energy, and effort into learning the dance, and I wanted to show my excellent teacher that I had thoroughly mastered her lessons.
The longer we danced, the more I realized that I just might be able to triumph after all.
Somewhere around the middle of the second section, Zariza’s smug smile slowly started to wilt. Somewhere around the third section, it vanished altogether, and by the fifth, it had been replaced with an intense frown as she concentrated on her own steps.
She was sweating, just like I was, but I could also smell her surprise. She hadn’t thought that I knew the dance so well, or that I could keep up with her, or that I could match her move for move for move. She’d expected this to be an easy victory, but I was proving her wrong with every slap of my feet, twirl of my body, and slice of my hands through the air.
Zariza might not be smiling anymore, but I certainly was, and I even started humming along to the music, although no one could hear the soft sounds but me. Well, I thought no one could hear, but Zariza’s amber eyes narrowed in anger. Her morph magic let her hear me humming, something she didn’t have the breath or energy to do, and it further frustrated and infuriated her.
As the dance went on, the Ungers started enthusiastically clapping in time to the quick beat, just as they had the night I’d performed the Tanzen Freund. I laughed and kept dancing, letting the rhythm of the music sweep me away from everything else. All my worries about Maximus and Maeven. All my concerns about Bellona and her people. All my small, lingering fears, doubts, and insecurities about whether or not I was a strong queen, a good queen, a true Winter queen.
At this moment, there was nothing but the music and the dance.
Zariza also kept dancing, although her steps were now half a second slower than mine, which were still perfectly in sync with the music. My smile widened. That half a second might not seem like much, but it was going to trip her up at the very end.
And it did.
The seventh and final section of the dance was the fastest and hardest one of all, with more sharp toe points, elaborate hand movements, and prolonged twirls than all the other sections combined. I moved through the very last section, my feet flowing, my arms floating, and my body flying through the patterns, and Zariza’s slight lack of speed finally caught up with her.
She started to twirl around, but her toes weren’t in exactly the right position, and she wobbled, just a bit. At first I didn’t think that her slight hiccup was even noticeable to the crowd, but gasps surged through the ballroom, all of them coming from the Ungerian contingent. The Ungers loved dancing just about more than anything else, so of course they had spotted her small mistake. Zariza growled in frustration, while I kept going, dancing and humming as though I hadn’t seen or heard anything but the music.
That was the final twirl, and the dance ended a few seconds later with Zariza and me facing each other again, our arms and bodies in the same position as in the very beginning.
The music faded away, but Zariza and I kept staring at each other. This time, I smirked, knowing that I had won. She glowered back, but a sheepish expression slowly crept over her face. She curtsied to me, much lower than before, acknowledging my victory, then straightened. I returned the gesture with a low, respectful curtsy of my own.
Zariza waved to the crowd. Everyone politely clapped, but the Ungers weren’t nearly as enthusiastic as they should have been. They had seen her mistake, even if everyone else hadn’t.
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 st
rix 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.
Several Mortan nobles, servants, and guards were lurking behind Maeven, and I studied them all in turn, trying to pinpoint the source of her worry. Leonidas, her son, wasn’t here, but that wasn’t terribly unusual. The ball was a time for the adults to plot, scheme, and gossip, and few children attended, even among the royals and their respective broods. Still, the longer I studied Maeven, the more worried I became.
“Oh, yes. My only reason for existing is to entertain people in your absence,” Zariza drawled again, her voice even more mocking. “You might not have found our dance interesting, but perhaps you’ll be more invested in the outcome.”
Maximus hesitated, sensing it was a trap, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What outcome?”
“The new alliance between Unger and Bellona,” Zariza purred. “It will be quite lucrative for both our kingdoms, as well as for Andvari. All three of us are united now.”
Her sly words punched Maximus in the face, shattering his smooth, smug facade. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and anger sparked like matches in his dark amethyst eyes. Mercer and Nox sidled away from their king, but Maeven held her position, looking back and forth between her brother and me.
It took Maximus a few seconds to tamp down his ire enough to speak. “Such an alliance is quite . . . unwise,” he said in a cold, clipped voice. “Unger would be much better served aligning with Morta, rather than Bellona.”
Everyone could hear the underlying threat in the king’s voice. I held my breath, wondering if Zariza would back out of our deal moments after it had been struck. Beside me, Sullivan tensed, as if he were thinking the same thing.
I opened my mouth to say . . . something, but Xenia discreetly shook her head, so I shut my mouth and kept quiet. Besides, Maximus had threatened Zariza, not me, so this was between Morta and Unger.
Zariza smiled at the king, but the expression was all teeth, as was the one of the ogre on her neck. “Eon and Ruri might be across the sea and able to turn a blind eye to your actions, and Cisco might be so desperate to align with you that he overlooks his own cousin’s murder, but I will do no such thing.”
Maximus lifted his chin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do.” Zariza tilted her head to the side, making her glorious red hair fall prettily over her shoulder. “It’s very hard to forget giving the order to massacre a royal family in their own palace.”
Shocked gasps surged through the crowd around us. Those gasps, whispers, and murmurs quickly spread even farther out into the ballroom, like waves rippling along the surface of a pond.
As far as I knew, this was the first time anyone had openly accused Maximus of orchestrating the Seven Spire massacre, and Zariza couldn’t have chosen a more public setting. The news would be all over the castle within minutes. By midnight it would have spread to every part of the island, and by morning it would have started making its way through the ships and camps and out into the kingdoms beyond.
All eyes turned to Maximus. That muscle ticked in his jaw again, and he practically smoldered with barely restrained anger. He didn’t like someone so loudly pointing out his despicable crime.
“Now, I might be willing to ignore such a horrific travesty were you to offer me something to make it worth my while,” Zariza continued. “After all, that is what royals do. We plot and scheme and wheel and deal to raise up our own kingdom and people above all others.”
“What’s your point?” Maximus said through gritted teeth, neither confirming nor denying her accusation, much like I had done with the other royals and their questions about my assassination attempt on him.
“Unfortunately for you, my dear beloved cousin Xenia was one of the people your minions tried to murder at Seven Spire.” Zariza gestured at the older woman, and Xenia stepped up beside her.
“We all know that the Morricones don’t really value family. Otherwise, you would treat your bastard relatives much better.” Her gaze pointedly flicked to Maeven for a moment before she focused on the king again. “But you shouldn’t have included my family, my blood, in your plans. That was a mistake, and it’s going to cost you dearly.”
Maximus opened his mouth, probably to deliver some threat, but Zariza cut him off.
“From this day forward, Unger will align itself with Bellona and Andvari,” she said in a loud voice that boomed through the ballroom. “An attack on one of us is an attack on all. Until the mountains crumble to ash!”
“Until the mountains crumble to ash!” Every single Unger in the ballroom repeated the traditional phrase, their voices ringing out just as loudly as hers had.
Zariza smirked at Maximus again, then scanned the ballroom. At first I wasn’t sure who she was searching for, but her gaze settled on Heinrich, who was still standing near the buffet tables, holding a glass of champagne.
“Well, Heinrich?” Zariza called out. “How do you feel about our new alliance?”
All eyes turned to Heinrich, who stepped forward. The Andvarian king looked at Zariza, then Maximus, and finally me. A wide grin split his face, and he pressed his fist to his heart and bowed low to first Zariza and then to me before straightening.
“Until the mountains crumble to ash,” he said, toasting us both with his glass. “And our enemies are dead and buried.”
More murmurs rippled through the crowd, although silence quickly fell over the ballroom again.
“Thank you, Heinrich,” Zariza replied. “I knew I could count on you to express the proper sentiment.”
He grinned and toasted her with his glass a second time. Zariza turned ba
ck to Maximus and arched an eyebrow, silently daring the Mortan king to threaten her again.
“You’ve made your choice, Zariza,” he said in a cold voice. “Unfortunately for you, it’s the wrong one. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
Maximus spun around on his bootheels. People scurried out of his way, and he stormed across the ballroom and disappeared through one of the archways that led deeper into the castle. Mercer and Nox followed him, but Maeven stayed in the ballroom with the rest of the Mortans, all of whom looked and smelled just as worried as she did.
Still basking in her triumph, Zariza waved her hand. “Heinrich had the right idea. This calls for a toast.”
A servant rushed forward, and Zariza plucked two snifters of Ungerian apple brandy off the man’s tray. I finally loosened my grip on the vial of poison in my pocket and took one of the glasses from her. Xenia and Sullivan grabbed their own drinks.
“To our new alliance,” Zariza murmured.
“To our alliance,” I repeated.
She clinked her glass against mine, then threw back her brandy like it was water. I took a much more modest sip, enjoying the sweet, crisp apple flavor and then slow cinnamon burn in my stomach. Xenia and Sullivan also clinked their glasses together and started sipping their brandy.
I thought about everything that had just happened, then toasted the Ungerian queen with my glass. “Well done,” I murmured. “That was a truly masterful performance. One of the best I’ve ever seen.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Zariza signaled for another brandy.
I waited until the servant had handed her a fresh glass before I spoke again. “Oh, don’t be so modest. You really had me sweating there for a while, especially during the dance.”
Sullivan frowned. “What are you talking about, highness?”
“I’m talking about the fact that Zariza was always going to align with me. The dance, insulting Maximus, it was all just a show for her nobles and everyone else.”
Zariza pouted a moment, but then a sly smile slowly curved her lips. “What gave me away?”
Crush the King Page 20