Another curveball. I spied Hyas farther down the line, his grin mirroring that of his twin. I already knew the way the Council would vote. Aretha wouldn’t risk a public embarrassment, and my mother had probably lobbied the other Grigori already.
Well, luckily, you’d taught me a very important lesson, to make sure my backup plans had backups.
“I wonder,” I began while I let my hands drift along Ashur’s broad shoulders, a gesture that didn’t miss your eagle-eyes. “With so many qualified candidates, if there might not be a better way to decide my suitor. I mean, it seems like a vote would be split anyway. Who in their right mind would vote against their own tribe?”
I turned toward the crowd, commanding their attention. I didn’t know much about political maneuvers, but I was a quick study. If things weren’t going your way, you had to appeal to your public. None of the tribes wanted to hand me over to the warborn. It would only cement their power and place everyone else in danger.
“Why not have a little competition?” I suggested. Here, I let my eyes trail over Hyas. His eyebrows raised with interest. If there was one thing I’d learned over the years about alpha males, it was that they were generally over-eager to prove their dominance. “A battle of strength and endurance.”
“That’s not in keeping with tradition,” Aretha said, considerably less smug now.
“But what could be a fairer, more egalitarian way to decide myprotectorthan a wrestling tournament?”
“The beastborn will win,” Ashur said, referring to himself in third person and puffing out his broad chest. I couldn’t have timed it better because that was just the antagonism Hyas needed to react.
“I’d agree to that,” Hyas said, sizing up his competition and finding himself at an advantage.
Eubuleus added, “Whoever wins the tournament gets the mouthy sunborn as a prize.” He smiled at me as though he already had a few ideas on how to make use of my mouth.
“Then it’s decided,” I said before anyone could argue. “Let’s meet back at the training yard after lunch. May the best man win.”
Hyas tipped his head and winked at you before strutting out of the hall.
“What’s your angle?” you asked me while I signaled to Stefan.
“Mater and the warborn planned this ahead of time. She wants me to ally myself with Hyas in order to drive a wedge between him and Aretha. Aretha agreed to it because she wants my lands.”
“Clever,” you said with some admiration.
“And despicable.” You only nodded. “I want this issue put to bed. There will be no alliance with any of the tribes. I fuck who I want when I want, and no one will tell me otherwise.” You stared at me, waiting for me to get that bit out. “But if things don’t go my way, I want you to win.”
“Understood.” You turned on your heel, and I thanked the gods that for once, you’d managed to take an order without arguing.
“How may I be of service, your highness?” Stefan said to me with a sardonic grin.
I told Stefan my plan, thinking this sly thief might turn out to be my best ally yet.
“You seem quite satisfied with yourself,”Aretha said to me a little while later. Our chairs had been moved outdoors where we were served refreshments under the awning of the training yard. Lovers, staff, and soldiers had gathered as well to watch this feat of strength and cheer for their own tribal representatives.
“I am supremely satisfied,” I said to her, determined not to let my anxiety show. Mater was at the other end of the spectating stands, still with that wretched smile on her face. “This is every gay boy’s fantasy. A dozen sweaty, stacked men grappling each other, all for the chance to expand their empires.” I tapped my drink against hers, some mixture of liquor and fruit nectar. Bubbly and refreshing, Lucian had truly thought of everything.
“My brother is interested in more than just your lands,” she said.
“Yes, he’s made that pretty clear.” In both explicit and non-explicit terms. Hyas and Ashur both had a fetish for the sunborn, because I was exotic or royal or the last of my kind. It didn’t really matter to me. To them, I was a status symbol more than anything else.
“We’re a loyal tribe,” Aretha said. “We don’t betray our own.”
But my mother is counting on the fact that you would.
My eyes drifted to the sidelines where you were oiling up your skin along with a dozen other competitors, all dressed in skimpy leather loincloths similar to the one Ashur had been wearing when I’d first met him in the mine. It must be some kind of ritualistic competition garb. (Not complaining.) You’d told me before that Ashur was your biggest competition. Thankfully, the two of you were in separate heats. But you’d still need to beat Eubuleus, who was also an experienced grappler with an impressive build.
“Tell me something good, Orcus.” I directed my attention to my other viewing companion. He’d draped himself in a head-to-toe silver cloak with extra-long sleeves and a hood that kept his pale face in shadow. He’d not made a bid for my hand, which was a small blessing. He probably realized it was unnecessary. That his visions were valuable enough on their own.
“Azrael will be visiting you in dreams,” he said soberly.
“I saidgood.”
“When he does, you should demand an audience with the Thrones.”
