Page 107 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Elyse

S eated on a balcony overlooking the Halia, The Waterway was one of the best restaurants in Satiros.

A few years prior, Keyain took her to the restaurant as a night away from the palace, back when they were still betrothed.

Now Elyse sat across from Keyain’s wife and next to a male who was desperate to marry her.

Funny how time could change such things.

For how normal the evening started, the mood shifted to uncomfortable. No one at the table addressed it. Keyain remained quiet, not being his chatty self, leaving Brynden and Marietta to fill the silence—something in which they were both adept.

Elyse convinced herself that she misheard the baker call Marietta a different surname.

She was Marietta Vallynte, not whatever name she spoke.

Perhaps that was her maiden name; yet, Keyain’s uncomfortable silence, paired with his warning to Brynden to ask no more questions, left Elyse believing it was something else.

If the name wasn’t odd enough, Marietta also had a deep knowledge of baking—the bakery owner even knew her.

When they disappeared into the back, Keyain had grown antsy, pacing, not saying a word.

Brynden had asked why a noble lady would know a baker, to which Keyain threatened to ban him from the city if he asked any more questions.

That had angered Elyse, but what upset her more was Marietta.

Even as she talked, she had a sense of discomfort about her that lingered since she returned from the bakery kitchen. What was going on?

Marietta downed her third glass of wine, and her mood shifted into something lighter. Perhaps she should do the same. Elyse drained the rest of her cup, earning a glance from Brynden, whose hand slid to her knee with a squeeze.

To pull Brynden’s attention away from her drinking, she turned to Marietta. “Have you been back to the temple? I know you were visiting Therypon for a moment there.” She thought it was a civil enough question, but the look Keyain shot her suggested otherwise.

“Not for two weeks now, though I should make a point to visit again soon,” Marietta said, her gaze slipping out towards the river.

“A noble lady devoted to the gods?” Brynden asked, a playful smile across his face. “Was being the first half-elven lady not enough of an anomaly for you?”

Keyain went to speak, but Marietta cut him off. “Of course not. I’m trying to collect as many titles as possible. How silly would it be just to have one?”

“Silly indeed. ‘Lady Marietta Vallynte, the First Half-Elven Lady, Favored by the Gods’ has quite a ring to it.”

“It just slips off the tongue,” Marietta said, a smirk wrapping around her lips. “From what I hear, you’ve found yourself your own goddess to pray to, a fervent worshiper in your own right.”

Heat came to Elyse’s face at the comment as Brynden’s thumb brushed against her leg. Must they talk of this?

“Do you not believe in the goddess?” Brynden asked, giving Elyse a slight squeeze.

“Oh, no, I do. She can do anything she sets her mind to,” Marietta said, her smile sharpening. “However, you won’t catch me supplicating at her temple.”

Elyse caught Keyain’s confused stare, and her face grew hotter. Gods, he didn’t need to hear that—she didn’t want him to hear it either.

“A shame. I’d love to see a female supplicating at her temple,” Brynden mused, swirling the wine in his cup. “I am but a devoted male to my goddess, always ready to sing—and share—her praises.”

“Who knew being a devoted male made one so poetic?” Marietta said, placing a hand over her heart. “But I must ask, what’s your best method for praying? With your hands or by your mouth?”

Brynden’s smirk deepened, sipping his wine. “In my experience, both simultaneously are the best form of worship.”

Amryth, who stood on guard next to the door, covered her laugh with a cough. Marietta forced down her own chuckle as well. “A devoted follower indeed.”

“What are you two talking about?” Keyain asked, his glare passing between Marietta and Brynden.

Marietta leaned back into his arm looped around her seat. “Brynden refers to Elyse as the goddess.”

Though Keyain was bright, it took him a moment to replay their words for understanding to reach him. “For fuck’s sake,” he said, his face turning red as he drank from his glass.

Elyse must have been an equal shade of red. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Trust me,” he said, shooting a look at Marietta, “it’s not your fault.”

Marietta shrugged with a smirk, eying Brynden, which caused Keyain’s jaw to clench so hard that Elyse thought his teeth would crack. Never had she seen him so on edge, yet Marietta seemed thrilled with herself.

By the time dessert came out, Keyain’s mood continued to sour, but he took it upon himself to fill the gap. He asked Brynden of Chorys Dasi, about his family and what part of the city-state he grew up in. Elyse bit back her irritation—it felt more like interrogating than civil chatter.

The server set slices of white cake before them, layered with cream and strawberry slices. Elyse’s bite melted on her tongue, the sweetness from the layers almost overwhelming.

“They added too much sugar for the filling,” Marietta murmured as she took a second bite. “If the baker would have tasted the strawberries first, they would’ve known how sweet their shipment was. Overall, not bad.”

“I have to ask,” Brynden said, drawing a glare from Keyain. “How does a noble lady know so much about baking? I’m ever so curious.”

Marietta shot a smirk at Keyain, then leaned in. “During my captivity, I learned to bake. Became an expert in my own right.”

“Ah, yes. The Exisotis captured you, hence why no one knew of Keyain’s half-elven wife,” Brynden said, furrowing his brows. “The humans have a weird way of treating their captives.”

Marietta opened her mouth, but Keyain snapped. “Enough, Marietta. Learn to keep quiet for once.”

Keyain’s raised tone panicked Elyse, staring at him with wide eyes. His behavior was so odd compared to his calm and collected demeanor. The only time she’d seen him snap was during his fight with Brynden in the Central Garden.

Brynden sat back, regarding Keyain. “A husband must never speak to his wife in such a manner.”

Marietta batted a hand in Keyain’s direction, earning a glare from him. “Keyain just gets grumpy when I enjoy myself. Despite his hostility today, he had his moments of rowdiness back in the day. Would you believe I got him to dance on a table at a tavern in Avato?”

Elyse cocked her head at Keyain, trying to imagine him dancing at a tavern, let alone on a table.

“Mar,” he warned, gripping his glass.

“It took quite a bit of alcohol, but sure enough, he got up on the table with the locals. Do you remember how much they could drink, Keyain? Gods, that’s how we even convinced you to drink so much—you felt like it was a competition.”

Keyain’s tongue ran over his teeth as he looked out over the city, ignoring Marietta. Beside Elyse, Brynden leaned in with fascination.

“If you don’t remember that, then perhaps you recall the time that chatty bard wouldn’t stop following us as we traveled from Rotamu to Kentro? You feigned falling in love with him, and we had a pretend lover’s spat that got him to leave. Gods, what was his name?”

Keyain sighed, sitting back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “I don’t remember, but you only referred to him as Bard-tholomew.”

Marietta grinned, laughing. “Yes, one of my better nicknames.”

“I hated him and his awful singing,” Keyain muttered, looking back at Marietta. “From the bottom of my heart, I hope his career was short-lived.”

“He was a lousy singer and an even lousier travel companion.”

“I didn’t realize you two traveled so much together,” Elyse said, laughing. “And that you two lived such an adventurous life.” And she was envious of that, never given the opportunity to meet rogue travelers and dance on tables.

“Yes, funny how that is.” Brynden leaned back, removing his hand from her thigh to hook it across her shoulders. “Whatever caused you guys to stop? Was it marriage?”

The amusement in Keyain’s expression faded, his icy gaze turning towards the city. “Not something we can disclose.”

Marietta’s hand struck out to Elyse’s arm from across the table. “We should go to a tavern tonight!”

“Mar, no,” Keyain said with a sigh. “It’s neither a good nor a safe idea for you to be out in the city.”

“But it’ll be just like the old days,” she said, patting his arm. Gods, that was their first contact since the carriage ride.

“Actually,” Brynden said with uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice. “I would like to walk along the river with Elyse. Alone, if possible.”

Elyse caught his stare, heat growing on her face. Not for the romantic gesture, but for the inevitable end to their night—the breaking of their hearts.

“First poetic letters, now romantic walks along the river? You are quite the dreamy man, Brynden,” Marietta purred with a flick of her brows.

“Satiros might be a safe city-state, but we are at war,” Keyain said, frowning. “It wouldn’t be safe now that the sun had set.”

“Not a problem,” Brynden said, offering Elyse his hand to stand. “Not only am I a trained warrior, but Elyse can handle herself.”

Keyain scoffed. “No offense, Elyse, but you don’t have a lick of defense training.”

“Ah, but she knows magic,” Brynden said, grinning. “Show them.”

Elyse reached out to aithyr, second nature to her already, and transferred the magical energy into her hand, creating a flame. Both Keyain and Marietta jumped back in surprise.

“Stop that,” Keyain hissed, looking around the balcony and the street below. “You know you can’t do magic so openly.”

Brynden laughed, shaking his head. “That’s only true in Satiros. Chorys Dasians do their magic in public and often.”

Keyain sighed again. “Fine, go. When you’re ready to return to the palace, please send for a carriage.”

“Well, of course,” Brynden said, bowing his head.

After a few departing words, Elyse glanced back at the table towards Marietta and Keyain. Already he was whispering something to her, his expression furious. Marietta just swirled the wine in her cup and took a sip, ignoring him. What in the hells was going on between them?