It was dumb, but the drawings were nice at least.
Each deck was handmade by an artist, and each artist had their own unique style. This deck was decorated with shimmering gold designs that complemented the slick ivory parchment. The artist had opted for a simplistic design, each figure and their numeral drawn with sleek lines. Above the Saint, whose hands stretched toward the heavens, hovered three six-pointed stars. For the General, there were swords, and for the Councilor, owls adorned the cards. The Executioner, to Elyse’s amusement, had nine dead bodies scattered before him, their heads disconnected from their torsos.
“Would anyone like to wager?” Julian asked from where he stood behind the twins. He looked eagerly at each of the players.
Elyse flung two coins toward the pot. The “wager” was that in exchange for two coins, she could lay two of her cards downand blindly trade them for a fresh duo. She selected the first two cards in her hand—the Saint and the General—and laid them face down. Julian swept them into a pile and dealt her two new cards.
Elyse picked them up and refrained from frowning. A Saint’s two and a Councilor’s one. She still didn’t have anything. But Dead Man’s Wager wasn’t merely about the cards you held; it was about making others believe you had a winning hand.
The twins also wagered, trading out two of their cards in hopes of getting a run. Based on their stoic expressions, Elyse had no idea if they’d bargained correctly.
“We’ll begin with you, Mr. Southwick,” Julian announced. He had far too much flair for Elyse’s taste.
Killian tossed a coin into the pot. “I’m in.”
One by one, the others threw in their bets as well, including Elyse. She wouldn’t fold on the first hand, not when everyone was still feeling each other out.
Killian tossed three coins into the pot, upping the bet. Elyse, seated to his left, tossed in three of her own. Thomes followed the action, but Norvick and Nathaniel both folded. Death, on the other hand, threw in five coins.
Killian quirked his eyebrow ever so slightly, but he answered with two additional coins of his own, as did Elyse and Thomes.
“Show your cards,” Julian commanded. He smirked at them, eager to see who had bested whom.
Killian laid down his hand to reveal a straight: General’s three, four, and five.
Elyse let out a growl and tossed her cards face down toward Julian, conceding without presenting her rubbish hand.
Thomes presented a straight as well, but his Councilor’s six, seven, eight was still trumped by Killian’s hand. Generals always beat Councilors, and Saints always beat Generals. Executioners were the bottom tier, but a run did occasionally win.
Death set down her cards one by one in a dramatic display that made Julian’s eyes light up. Her hand contained a run, one composed of Councilor’s two and three, with a Mage to round them out. There were only two Mages in the entire deck, but they acted as wild cards that could represent any other card.
“The pot goes to Mr. Southwick,” Julian boomed with a wink toward Killian.
Elyse’s nostrils flared. An hour ago, her whole plan banked on Killian winning. Now, she worried what he would do if he did win.
She’d seen the way he’d stared at the chest containing her soul. He’d practically drooled over it, with wide eyes and an idiotic gape of his mouth. He kept glancing at it, the only sign of emotion he presented during the game. Elyse had made her threats clear, but she worried it wouldn’t be enough to keep that sappy romantic from doing something stupid.
Julian, finally finished with his exaggerated shuffling, dealt out the next hand. This time, Elyse thought she had a decent shot. She only needed one card to get a run, so she wagered two coins to get it—and failed.
Still, she’d try her hand at bluffing.
The bets went around, and the hands were revealed. This time, Thomes took the pot.
It’s a long game, Elyse told herself. She despised losing, especially to the likes of a priss like Thomes, but there was still plenty of time to pull ahead.
Killian won three of the next five hands, with Death and Norvick winning the other two.
“Ha!” Norvick laughed in his twin’s face. “You might as well say goodbye to your coins,” he taunted as Nathanial rolled his eyes.
“Please, Norvick,” Julian drawled as he executed a perfect one-handed shuffle. “Have some decorum.”
Norvick frowned, but his glare was aimed at Nathanial instead of Julian.
The next hand, Elyse was dealt a ringer off the bat. Saint’s six, seven, and eight. She hid her excitement behind a mask of calm as the others placed their bets.
When it came time to reveal, Elyse displayed her cards proudly. Killian gave her a nod of approval, but Death only smiled.
She laid down a Saint’s nine and ten, followed by a Mage.
