Page 114 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Seventy-Four

Marietta

E nergized by the different people she met, danced, and sang with, Marietta felt sure of herself.

Confident. Amryth walked arm in arm with her, both giggling at Wynn’s jokes, most at Keyain’s expense.

If his mood at the tavern was dour, it only further deteriorated while returning to the palace.

Even a few of his guards couldn’t hold back their snickering. If only she had met Wynn sooner.

The palace was only a few blocks from The Snapdragon.

Keyain navigated them towards the main gate, leading the party with a scowl.

Flanking the palace’s entrance were two female forms, hair twisted into branches, like statues guarding the sculpture garden.

Except they scaled higher than any person or tree that Marietta had seen and reached above the wall’s height.

Beyond it rose the white stone of the palace.

Columns were carved into the side of the soaring walls.

In between were trees that spanned five stories chiseled to look like old, gnarled wood.

Marietta squinted as they made their way up the steps, seeing a face etched in with the bark texture.

Enamored by the details, she nearly ran into Keyain’s back, Amryth pulling her back at the last second.

Reaching behind, Keyain grabbed for her wrist and dragged her to his side.

Marietta struggled from his grip. “What are—” The words died in her throat as she saw him. Dressed in all black, King Wyltam stood at the entrance with hands tucked into his pockets. “About time you returned, Keyain,” he drawled.

“It would’ve been sooner if—”

“That’s enough. Wynn?” he asked.

Wynn approached the King, leaning to speak into his ear. King Wyltam nodded, his gaze landing on Marietta. Maybe it was the alcohol altering her perception, but a smile hinted at his lips. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Interesting,” the King said as Wynn stepped back. “Amryth, follow Wynn. He has a few questions for you.”

Without hesitation, Amryth clamped her fist over her heart and bowed her head. “Of course, my King.”

The guards didn’t make it past the grand foyer before Keyain snapped again. “I need to get her inside, Wyl.”

“You need to meet with your team. The Exisotis made a move while you were out.” The King walked towards them with an unhurried pace. “I suggest you take the rest of your guards and learn what happened.”

“After I get Marietta to our room.” Keyain jerked her forward, but she resisted.

The King tilted his head. “I’ll be more than happy to escort Marietta. You have a duty to our city-state to—”

“I have a duty to my wife.” Keyain’s grip tightened on her wrist. Marietta hissed, trying to pull out of his hold again.

The King’s expression darkened, anger slipping from his expressionless mask. “Go now, Keyain, or I will make an example of what happens when people challenge my authority.”

Beside her, Keyain’s breathing became strained, but he released her, turning to his other guards and motioning them to follow. “We’ll talk after, Marietta.” Though she leaned away from his touch, he kissed her forehead and stormed off into the palace.

The absolute nerve that man had. Marietta met the King’s gaze, ignoring the pain that lingered at her wrist.

“Are you alright?” he asked, approaching Marietta.

Was she alright? Was anything alright when she was trapped in a foreign city-state and married to a man she didn’t want to marry?

Admitting she was not alright would be a betrayal to herself; but to continue pretending before a man who knew the truth, who knew her pain, who likely went through similar pain, seemed foolish.

“No,” she said, refusing to let her voice falter. Despite giving herself one night, a reminder of the person she used to be, Marietta still needed to say it. A confession for the man who realized when she needed help and reached out. “Nothing is alright. None of this is alright.”

“It takes a strong person to admit such truth,” the King said, nearly a whisper. “I’m happy you can share your honest feelings.” He paused, his dark gaze roaming over her. “Would you like to walk with me before I take you back to your room?”

“I want to be anywhere but that suite,” she said, hating the emotion that bit at her throat.

He considered her for a moment, nodding his head. “Understandable.” The King held out his arm, and Marietta took it. “Before that ,” he said, leading through the entrance, “did you enjoy your evening?”

“For the most part,” she said, offering a tight smile. “I’m thankful for your intervention and glad you sent along someone to play nursemaid.”

“Nursemaid?” the King chuckled, a smile coming to his lips as they started down a dim hallway. “Wynn is one of the most deadly mages I’ve ever worked with.”

Marietta stopped and turned to him. “A mage? To protect our party?”

“To protect you.” King Wyltam placed a hand over hers that gripped his arm, a smile touching his lips.

Marietta’s breath caught. Not wanting to acknowledge the King’s implication, that he protected her , that he thought of her , she said, “I’ve never met a mage before.”

“That’s the funny thing about being a mage,” he said. “We can be anyone, and you would never know.”

“We?” She furrowed her brows. “You’re a king, not a mage.”

“To be one doesn’t mean I can’t be the other.” His hand brushed back the dark hair that fell into his face. “Mages can be beyond deadly, definitely dangerous, and a complete secret.”

“And is that what you are, my King?” she teased. “Deadly? Dangerous?” She looked him up and down, a smirk curling at her lip. “Because I find you to be neither.”

King Wyltam chuckled as he untangled himself from her.

Then he disappeared, the spot he occupied becoming empty.

Standing before her one moment, gone the next, Marietta had a second to register what she saw before she was pinned to the wall.

A scream died in her throat as King Wyltam reappeared, his hands firm but gentle, holding her to the stone.

His breath fell on her skin, his mouth inches from her own.

She swallowed hard, cursing her heart for betraying her as it thundered in her chest. “I guess that proves your point,” she managed to say.

“You have never called me your King, Marietta.” He brought his hand to her chin, tilting her face towards his. “Is that what I am? Your King?”

“What if you are?” Stupid. Foolish. She should push him away. Marietta should end the conversation, but she wanted more—she wanted him. His lips were so close; she imagined the softness of them brushing over her skin.

“Then I wouldn’t be deadly or dangerous to you. For you, I would be loving,” he murmured, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. “For you, I would be tender.”

She stared at his mouth, wishing it on her own. “Show me how tender you can be, my King.”

His breath slowed as he leaned in. “If I show you now,” he said, lips brushing against hers, “then I fear you’ll never return to your suite.” He pulled back enough that she could look him in the eye.

“And why is that?”

“Because I won’t stop kissing you once we start.” His thumb brushed over her lips as he released a slow breath. “Because once I have you, I won’t want to let you go.”

Marietta lifted her face to his, whispering, “That seems better than the alternative.”

“And what’s the alternative, Marietta?”

“Being in that gods damned suite.”

A laugh escaped the King, and for a moment Marietta thought he would kiss her, but he stepped back and offered his arm once more. “Come. We’ll take the long way back.”

Disappointed and breathless, Marietta continued down the hall with the King. Stupid, he was married, as was she. But Keyain didn’t give her a choice in the matter. And the King? Well, if what he said was true of Valeriya, then what harm did it cause?

That’s beside the point—it was wrong. Gods, it was for the best that the King stopped such a kiss. It would have been both wonderful and terrible, equally terrifying and thrilling, and utterly reckless. She forced herself to stare down the hall, ignoring the King’s gaze upon her.

They walked in comfortable silence. Holding onto the arm of the King, she savored the closeness of him, for it would be as close as she could ever be.

Beyond the inappropriateness of kissing him, it simply made little sense.

King Wyltam was vexing, often stoking her temper or leaving her frustrated.

Though, often he seemed to leave her breathless as well.

He was confusing and contradictory, as unpredictable as a storm cloud, yet she wouldn’t trade his company for any other.

Such a confession made her chest lighter.

The halls remained empty as they walked, devoid of any person. “Is everyone asleep?” she joked, breaking the silence.

“Not quite,” he said with a smile. “I just know the best ways to avoid people.”

“That sounds like you.” Marietta laughed, and turned to him with a grin. For a moment, Wyltam’s smile faltered into a look of awe before he cleared his throat and looked ahead.

“You know,” she said, attempting to get his attention once more, “I like that about you. It’s entertaining, the way you are a public leader but hate the public.”

“I don’t hate the public. I hate the attention.”

“All attention?” she teased. “Even mine?”

“Never yours.”

“Good, because I like giving it to you.”

He laughed, glancing down before looking at her. “I’ll take every drop of you I can get.”

Locked together, their gazes refused to drop as they approached the door to the Noble’s Section. The King paused a moment, then turned and held the door open for Marietta.