The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)

Chapter 24 | Kill Game (part ii)

As Jhak O'rian quickly explained, the tournament (of sorts) was a series of five challenges for the bridegroom. Each of the challengers were selected by the guests in five categories: someone of the bride's clan, the groom's clan, a peer, a friend, and a senior, in that order.

Rosalyne blinked at the jhak, wishing to the gods she couldn't perceive exactly how much he relished the look of horror on her face. She shook her head, trying to clear some of the ale-induced fog. She looked about the table, desperate for water to wash down the bile rising in her throat.

He handed her a cup. "Try this."

The golden fizz tasted sweeter than white wine — like a dry autumn when leaves crisped on the ground. Rosalyne had drained it before it hit the table again.

«Terus, take me.»

Jhak O'rian laughed as King Oktavi welcomed up his brother, Khal to lead the games.

Khal jumped up onto the dias next to the bridegroom and threw his arm around his nephew's shoulders. "Well, son, I do not envy you right now." The guests laughed and Khal winked at the crowd. "Shall we begin, ey?"

Rosalyne's brow pinched and Jhak O'rian patted the table next to her hand. «He means the trials not you — this is mostly an opportunity to humiliate the groom as much as humanly possible.»

The jaquelle sat back with a pleased little smirk and pushed a loc over her shoulder. «Well, by all means, then, continue.»

Khal shoved Jhak Oxland forward off the dias into the middle of the crowd, and filled the hall with his voice. "First challenger — ooh, we are perhaps a bit short of options..."

But the crowd did not disappoint. In the space of a moment, an irate Lucas was shoved into the clearing in the hall. The rest of the guests erupting in cheers of approval as the guard looked to his mistress in desperate confusion.

Rosalyne leaned across the table to address Khal. "Pardon me, uncle. But Captain Lucas is not my kinsman."

Khal shrugged, "It seems we will have to make do. It is either him or Clovis, and as much as I would enjoy watching that scrawny snoop get his ass handed to him, he is nowhere to be found."

Rosalyne contemplated informing him that Sir Clovis was the son of a lord — albeit an undistinguished one — but she doubted the information would impress him. And if it were a challenge of the mind, she was sure Clovis would have more than ample opportunity to do the handing of asses.

But she didn't. She just held his eyes and said, "I apologise for the inconvenience. The kin I brought with me had their throats torn out."

The stricken look on Khal's face almost alleviated her irritation.

Jhak O'rian tossed back the rest of drink, muttering, «Fun, Bramble. Fun.»

Khal turned away from Rosalyne's stare first, clearing his throat to call Lucas' attention. "Captain, you have been charged with the first round — have you elected your challenge?"

Lucas glared up at Khal from under his eyebrows. "You'll have to be more specific."

Someone took pity on Lucas and summarised the tradition to him.

The guard looked to his mistress, and Rosalyne felt his inquiry press into her mind. Below his deference, anger tightened his chest with a vindictive pinch.

Rosalyne glanced over at the shadow were she had spotted her husband's mistress, and gritted her teeth. Without moving, she projected assent back to her captain.

Lucas looked Jhak Oxland up and down. Shrugging off his tunic, he addressed Khal, "I have made my selection." He folded the uniform carefully and handed it to Lady Dys, who had appeared at the edge of the circle.