A Girl in Black and White (Alyria 2)

Maxim laughed.

Ha. Ha. I rolled my eyes and then paused. “Wait. You’re pledging some unlucky lady?” I asked Maxim, aghast. What a poor girl, I thought, my eyes flicking to six of his men who stood a little ways down the dock.

“The price to pay for one of the king’s vote,” Maxim said dryly. I frowned, but then realized he must have to make deals with some of these kings to get their vote to use the Mages they had in retainer to reverse the curse. That must be why it was taking so long to get what he wanted—he had to appease each one

of them.

The Titan next to me let out a breath of amusement as he turned toward Maxim like he loved the idea—only because Maxim would hate it.

“Why would any father want to pawn his daughter off to you?” I asked, blinking away the rest of the haze in my mind. My heartbeat was slowing down, my breaths evening out.

“Believe it or not,” Maxim deadpanned, “I’m a catch.”

Maybe as one of those male whores, but not for a husband. But I didn’t think he’d find that an insult, so I said nothing.

“I meant to congratulate you on your father’s death, but you’ve been avoiding me since you’ve been in the city,” Maxim told Weston.

I blinked. There was a lot wrong with that statement.

“You expected something else?”

Maxim shook his head, running his thumb across his lip, slightly amused. “I got your note earlier. Here I am.”

A frown pulled on my lips, some uncertainty rushing through me. Why would Weston tell Maxim to meet him at some Southie tavern, on the docks no less? Princes didn’t come down here. Though, I knew these weren’t your average ones.

As I looked at them now—Maxim wearing white, Weston in black, they looked like good versus evil. But both were on the villain side of the scale. This dark alley was a nice atmosphere for . . . earlier, but now, surrounded by Titan and Untouchables alike, I decided I needed a bit of light. Three lanterns near the edge of the dock suddenly flamed, filling the area with an orange glow.

They both shot their gazes to me, but I only looked at my nails, bored.

“How long have you known about this?” Weston asked Maxim, tilting his head toward me. What, did Maxim just write him a note that said, ‘Dead girl you kidnapped walking in Symbia?’ He gave him no details?

I suddenly felt like an outsider, uninvited, so I thought: why not let these two gentlemen duke it out themselves?

“I’m just gonna . . .” I began, taking a step to the side to leave, but Weston grabbed my arm without even a glance in my direction. “Or not,” I muttered.

“Long enough,” Maxim drawled.

I frowned at him disapprovingly. He was a liar. He’d known for two days, max. But I wasn’t getting involved in this, that much was for sure.

Weston let out an amused breath that wasn’t entirely amused at all as he rubbed his jaw—probably to keep his hands busy so that he didn’t throw his knives somewhere in Maxim’s vicinity.

“Doesn’t feel so good to be on the other side, does it?” Maxim asked.

“Quite lethal,” Weston bit out seriously. After a moment of silence surrounding us, he said, “You can have your vote.”

I blinked. “I thought you weren’t King?”

Weston glanced at me. “I’m an intermediary until the tourneys.”

Huh. Was that another way of saying I was just kissing a temporary king? Bloody hell . . . Wait until I tell Grandmother about this. She’d never believe me.

I wondered how Maxim felt about having to work with Weston to get his vote on the council. I bet he didn’t like it very much. I found it amusing, though.

“Just like that?” Maxim asked, disbelieving. “What’s it going to cost me? That,” he nodded to me, “was my leverage. But it seems she isn’t so good a leverage anymore when she doesn’t even know the meaning of monogamy.”

My eyes widened. “Monogamy? What—”

Maxim glanced at me meaningfully, and I realized with that look, this was the favor he decided on. Technically, that was void now that he hadn’t upheld my conditions and told Weston I was here. But with a glance at the Untouchables standing down the dock, I realized that I wasn’t really in a position to make demands as it was. He controlled two-thousand men who were alerted the Royal Affair wasn’t a normal brothel. I sighed, acquiescing to his game. “Like you know the meaning of the word, Prince a la harem.”