Crush the King

by Jennifer Estep

  “Very well,” he said. “We will fight at noon tomorrow in the arena. I’m looking forward to it, Everleigh.”

  I gave him a cold, thin smile. “As am I.”

  My challenge delivered and accepted, I whirled around and strode out of the ballroom, my bloody sword still clutched in my hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  My friends and I left the island and went back to the Bellonan camp to get ready for tomorrow.

  I had Auster triple the number of guards on duty. Just because Maximus had agreed to the royal challenge didn’t mean that he still wouldn’t send more assassins to try to kill me beforehand. So Auster posted guards all around camp, as well as in the surrounding trees to keep an eye out for strixes, in case the Mortan king decided to attack from the sky instead of the ground.

  While Auster dealt with the guards, my other friends and I gathered in my tent, studying maps of the island and debating the best, quickest, and easiest routes to get from here to the arena without running into another ambush. But there really wasn’t one, and we finally decided to go to the arena the same way we had been for the last two days.

  We also talked about what to do given the outcome of the challenge. Our own contingency plans, as they were.

  “If Maximus kills me, then you have to find some way to kill him before he leaves the arena.” I didn’t want to ask my friends to risk themselves again, but I had to put aside their safety and think about what was best for Bellona.

  Sullivan, Paloma, Serilda, and Xenia fell quiet, thinking about it.

  “I’ll do it,” Cho said.

  We all looked at him in surprise, especially Serilda.

  “I’m the ringmaster, so I’ll be on the arena floor anyway,” he continued. “If Maximus wins, then I’ll go over to lift his hand in victory like I would for anyone else.”

  “And then?” Serilda asked in a low, strained voice.

  Cho shrugged. “And then I’ll palm a dagger and cut his throat. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll morph and tear him to pieces with my teeth and talons. Either way, Maximus won’t be expecting me to attack, and he won’t leave the arena alive, not even if it costs me my own life. I promise you that, Evie.”

  Cho was talking to me, but his black eyes were fixed on Serilda, as were those of the dragon on his neck. Serilda stared at him a moment, then turned away, but not before I saw the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes.

  “He’s right,” Xenia said in a sympathetic voice. “It’s the best plan.”

  Serilda didn’t say anything, but she gave a single sharp nod. When she looked at Cho again, her tears were gone, and she was once again a warrior ready to sacrifice anything for her kingdom, even the man she loved.

  “And when Evie wins?” Paloma asked, refusing to accept anything less than my victory.

  Her confidence made me smile, but I forced myself to focus. “Then we’ll probably have to kill Mercer, Nox, and Maeven. No doubt Maximus will order them to try to kill me again, on the off chance that he loses.”

  My friends started throwing out ideas on how best to kill the Morricone royals, but I stayed quiet, thinking about Maeven. I wouldn’t just be fighting Maximus tomorrow. I would be battling her too.

  For the last few months, I had been playing my long game with Maeven, and tomorrow would probably determine whether I won or lost that battle, along with my life, in the arena. But I’d made my moves and played the long game as best I could. Now all I could do was wait and see what tomorrow brought—for everyone.

  An hour later, we finished our plotting, and everyone left my tent to go to bed, except for Sullivan. I was still standing by the table full of maps, and he walked up beside me.

  “A crown for your thoughts, highness?” he murmured.

  “Just thinking about tomorrow, and all the things that could go wrong.” I let out a low, bitter laugh. “Sometimes I feel like all I do, every single day, is think about all the things that could go wrong.”

  His gaze locked with mine. “And that is one of the things that makes you such an excellent queen.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I try. I suppose that’s all any of us can really do in the end, even Winter queens.”

  Sullivan stared at me, love and understanding filling his blue, blue eyes. I leaned forward and kissed him, breathing in his cold, clean vanilla scent. His arms snaked around me, and he kissed me back, even as the warmth of his body soaked into my own.

  “Come to bed,” he murmured.

  I did, and we spent the next hour making each other forget about all the dangers waiting for us in the arena tomorrow.

  Afterward, Sullivan drifted off to sleep, but I couldn’t rest, so I got out of bed, put on some clothes, along with my sword and dagger, and left the tent. The guards stationed outside started to follow me, but I waved them off. I wasn’t going far.

  I ended up on the rise at the edge of the Bellonan camp. Down below, the Perseverance Bridge gleamed like a sapphire arrow pointing toward Fortuna, while the ships anchored in the harbor bobbed up and down like golden and silver fireflies dancing on the surface of the water. More lights gleamed on the island, although the Mortan side of the river was largely dark.

  It was a cold, clear December night, and the moon hung like a silver shield in the black arena of the sky, surrounded by the bright, tiny drops of blood oozing out of the stars. I drew in a breath, tasting all the scents swirling through the air. The smoke from the campfires. The last lingering hints of grilled chicken, fish, and more from people’s dinners. The frost slowly forming on the ground.

  But above it all, I could smell this rich, dark scent—crushed stone mixed with cold dirt. The scent that was truly, uniquely Bellona.

  I crouched down. Aisha had healed the gash in my left palm, so I dug my hands into the ground, moving past the grass and grabbing two handfuls of earth. Then I drew my hands up and inhaled deeply. The scent of stone and dirt flooded my nose again, bringing with it a sense of strength, peace, and above all, determination. I was fighting for this land and its people, so they could be safe, happy, and free, and I could never, ever forget that.

  I let the dirt slowly trickle through my fingers, then got to my feet. I stared at the island in the distance again, then turned and headed back to my tent and Sullivan to get what sleep I could.

  * * *

  The next morning, I sat in front of the vanity table in my tent, staring at my reflection.

  Calandre had made me exactly what I’d requested. She must have worked on the outfit all night, but she had kept her promise.

  I was wearing fighting leathers similar to the ones I’d worn at the Black Swan arena—a tight, fitted sleeveless shirt, a knee-length kilt, and sturdy sandals with straps that wound up past my ankles. The leathers were a deep midnight-blue, and Calandre had stitched my crown-of-shards crest in glittering silver thread over my heart. My tearstone sword dangled off my belt, and my shield was sitting nearby, waiting to be strapped to my forearm.

  Calandre’s sisters had also done their part, painting my face to make me look like a swan. But not a black swan this time. That was Serilda’s symbol. No, I was a tearstone swan, a Bellonan swan, a Winter queen swan.

  Dark blue shadow rimmed my eyes in thick, heavy circles before tapering off to sharp points. Bright silver paint had been streaked over the blue, creating shard-like feathers. Blue and silver crystals had been glued at the corners of my eyes, and silver glitter had been dusted all over my neck, arms, hands, and legs. My black hair was pulled back into three knots that bristled with blue feathers, and for a final touch, my lips had been painted a dark blue.

  I had started this journey as a gladiator, and I was going to finish it as one.

  “Well, my queen?” Calandre asked. “What do you think?”

  I looked up and smiled at her, along with Camille and Cerana, who were hovering nearby. “It’s perfect. Exactly what I wanted. Thank you again for making it on such short notice.”

  Calandre bowed her head. “It’s b
een my honor to serve you, and I look forward to doing so for many more years to come.”

  Her confidence surprised me. Warmth and gratitude flooded my heart, and I got to my feet, reached out, and hugged her.

  I drew back. “Thank you. It has been an honor to have you as my thread master.”

  Calandre wet her lips, as if debating whether she should say what was on her mind, but she finally did. “I’ve already lost one queen to the Mortans. I would hate to lose another one.”

  She curtsied to me in the traditional Bellonan style, then left the tent with her sisters trailing along behind her.

  I stared at my reflection a moment longer, then grabbed my shield and left the tent as well.

  My friends were waiting outside. Sullivan. Paloma. Serilda. Cho. Xenia. Auster. The last time we had done something like this had been the night of Vasilia’s coronation. I hoped that today went as well as that night had—and that I was able to save Bellona from the Mortans.

  So many things needed to fall into place for that to truly happen, but I was more optimistic about my chances for success than I had been in months. Plus, my friends were here to see this thing through with me—even if it led to our deaths.

  “To the end?” I asked in a soft voice.

  “To the end,” they replied back in unison.

  “Then let’s finish this.”

  My friends and I headed toward the rise at the edge of camp. Leonidas was also here, once again sandwiched in the middle of the large contingent of guards who flanked us. To my surprise, the boy had asked Auster if he could attend the royal challenge, although his face was pale, and I could smell his worry.

  But perhaps the biggest surprise was that the people—my people—were waiting for me.

  Nobles, competitors, merchants, servants, guards. Old, young, rich, poor, and everyone in between. They had all flocked to the plaza along the waterfront, and they all started yelling, screaming, and cheering when they saw me standing on the rise above them.

  “Evie! Evie! Evie!”

  The chant rang out over and over again, and people waved pennants and flags, many of which featured my crown-of-shards crest. I felt like I was staring out at the living, beating heart of Bellona, and it was one of the most wonderful sights I’d ever seen.

  This was what I had always secretly dreamed about when it came to the Regalia. The cheers, the excitement, the support. Now that it had come true, I realized that it was far more meaningful than just a childhood fantasy.

  Even if Maximus killed me and my friends today, Bellona would live on through her people. And that thought brought me far more peace and comfort than anything else had over the past year.

  “You should wave to your people, highness,” Sullivan murmured.

  His words roused me out of my reverie, and I lifted my hand, smiling and waving. The people cheered even louder. I kept right on smiling and waving as I wound my way down the steps and across the plaza.

  As I headed toward the bridge, something else unexpected happened. The crowd of people closed in so that they surrounded me, my friends, and the guards, like a moving gladiator’s shield.

  “Don’t worry, Evie!”

  “We’ll protect you!”

  “No assassins are getting to you today!”

  One after another, voices rose up in the crowd. Tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them away and smiled and waved again, thanking my people for their service. Then together, en masse, we crossed the bridge and headed over to the island.

  The mood might have been subdued on Fortuna last night, but that was no longer the case. Thousands upon thousands of people had flocked to the island, and more folks were crammed into the plazas and along the boulevard than ever before. Music, laughter, and conversations filled the air, creating a loud cacophony of sound, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. The collective scents of eagerness and excitement filled the air, washing over me like the waves slapping up against the waterfront.

  My friends and I climbed the steps and headed up toward the arena on the top of the island. And, as always, comments nipped at my heels as people caught sight of me.

  “There she is!”

  “That’s the Bellonan queen!”

  “Do you really think she can kill Maximus?”

  “I guess we’ll find out . . .”

  All too soon, we left the steps behind, crossed the plaza, and reached the main archway that led into the arena. Thousands of people had already filed into the structure to watch the battle royale, and their cheers and conversations rang out like a low, rolling drumbeat that went on and on and on.

  Even though I had been in this position before, nervous butterflies still danced in my stomach, but I swatted them away. I had beaten Emilie, another gladiator, in a black-ring match, and I had faced Vasilia and won. I could do the same to Maximus.

  Paloma must have sensed my nerves, because she clapped her hand on my back, her great strength making me stagger forward.

  “Don’t worry, Evie,” she said in her matter-of-fact voice. “If Maximus kills you, I will go into the arena and avenge you.”

  I groaned. She said that every single time I faced someone in battle, and I both loved and hated her for it.

  “No.” I stabbed my finger at her. “You are not going to avenge me. Remember the plan. If the worst happens and Maximus kills me, then Cho will kill him. Not you.”

  Paloma shrugged. “That depends on who gets to the bastard first.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but she gave me a fierce look, as did the ogre on her neck. They wouldn’t be dissuaded, so I sighed.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “You can avenge me to your heart’s content. Just don’t blame me if you wind up dead.”

  She grinned. I gave her a sour look, then glanced around. The others were a few steps away, scanning the crowd, so I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small gray envelope sealed with blue wax and my crown-of-shards crest.

  “Here. This is for you.” I gave the envelope to Paloma. “Just in case I don’t make it out of the arena alive. Save it for when you’re alone.”

  Late last night, I had written out everything I suspected about Paloma’s mother and Xenia’s daughter being one and the same. I just hoped it wouldn’t be the final gift I ever gave my friend.

  Paloma hefted the envelope. “What does it say? And why don’t you just tell me now?”

  “Because it’s private, and I want to give you some time to think about what it says. Just promise me that you’ll open it later, okay?”

  She didn’t like it, but she tucked the paper into her own pocket. “I promise.”

  By this point, most of the crowd, including the Bellonans, had streamed into the arena, although a few stragglers were still hurrying across the plaza. With every passing minute, the roars of the crowd already inside grew louder and louder.

  It was time for me to leave my friends behind.

  They knew it too, and they all gathered around me. Paloma. Captain Auster. Xenia. Cho. Serilda. Sullivan. They stared at me with a mixture of love, confidence, and determination glinting in their eyes, and they smelled of the same emotions too, although the strongest was their rosy love for me, and mine for them.

  Seeing, sensing, feeling that love made the butterflies in my stomach finally, fully evaporate. I dipped into the traditional Bellonan curtsy, trying to show them all how deeply I respected them and how very much their friendship had meant to me over this past year.

  Then I straightened, left my friends behind, and headed into the arena.

  Cho was the only one who came with me. The others were going up to the royal terrace to keep an eye on Mercer, Nox, and Maeven. Maximus might have to finally face me himself, but I wouldn’t put it past the king to order his other relatives to try to assassinate Heinrich, Zariza, or another royal during the bout. Today wasn’t just about my winning—it was also about keeping our allies safe.

  Cho and I stopped in the shadows that filled the archway, and I stared out at the spectacl
e.

  I had always thought the Black Swan arena was massive, but the Pinnaculum easily dwarfed it. Thousands upon thousands of people were packed into the arena, and every available seat was taken. Those who hadn’t been able to get a seat had lined up along the wall that circled the arena floor, as well as the one that cordoned off the very top of the structure.

  Vendors carrying wooden trays filled with bags of cornucopia, cups of flavored ices, and other sweet and savory treats were hustling up and down the bleacher steps as fast as they could, desperately trying to make a few last sales before the battle royale began. Above the conversations, I could hear the distinctive clink-clink-clink of coins changing hands as people bet on the outcome. The sound was strangely comforting and reminded me of my first black-ring match against Emilie. I had given Serilda some gold crowns this morning and told her to make a bet for me. We’d see whether or not it would pay off.

  “You’re going to do fine, Evie,” Cho said. “No, wait. Scratch that. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to kick Maximus’s ass. For everyone in Bellona and beyond that he’s ever hurt. And then you’re going to kill the bastard.”

  I smiled at him, and he winked back at me, as did the dragon on his neck.

  “All right, then,” Cho murmured, his black eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Let’s start the show.”

  He straightened the sleeves on his red jacket, then squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and stepped out into the arena.

  The crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of him, and Cho raised his hand, smiling, waving, and playing the part of the ringmaster to perfection. I stayed in the shadows, shifting on my feet and trying not to notice how sweaty my palm was against the hilt of my sword.

  Cho waved to the crowd again, then held up his hands, asking for silence.