Page 115 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Grasping his arm once more, they made their way to the stairs as voices sounded from a room.

“Looks like not everyone is asleep,” she murmured.

In the doorway to one of the common rooms, a few people watched them make their way to the stairs.

What a sight for them to behold: a pilinos at the arm of the King.

She laughed at the thought. Perhaps they should get used to that.

The voices faded as they climbed the dark stairwell to Marietta’s floor. On one of the landings, the King stopped. He hesitated, then placed his hands on her hips. Out of instinct, she tried shifting away, but he held tight. “Entertain me for a moment, Marietta.”

In the dark, she could see the faint details of his face. Without another thought, she brought her arms up around his neck. “Is holding me your idea of entertainment?”

A smile curled onto his lips with a laugh. “Wynn was right—you are acting quite brash this evening. But please, I enjoy being close to you,” he said. “Just enjoy this moment with me.”

“That’s all you want—a pleasant moment with me in a dim stairwell?”

“I’m a simple man; I’ll take any moment with you.”

Marietta’s heart skipped a beat at his words, making it hard to hold herself back from him. “Aren’t you a male, not a man?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Don’t you say man and woman?”

“So you’ve noticed.”

“Of course, you’re from Enomenos, Marietta,” whispered the King, his hands squeezing her hips. “Practically the Princess of Enomenos.”

“Princess?” She shook her head with a laugh. “I’d rather be its queen.”

The King stilled with his lips parted. His hands slipped from her hips and up her back as he pulled her closer to his body.

A thought trickled into her mind from his treatment of her, from his words.

If he could be tender with her, then what prevented him from treating pilinos better?

Perhaps there was a part of him that could understand, that would push for change.

“I wish you cared as much about the half-elves and humans of this city as you do me,” she whispered. “Perhaps if you cared about being king—”

King Wyltam’s hands released her waist, one coming to her chin.

“I care more about Satiros and its people than you understand. Change cannot be sweeping with such hate deeply instilled in the elven community, Marietta.” His free hand reached up, brushing a hair from her face.

“I’ve been King for less time than you’ve been alive, and I’ve made small, gradual changes working towards a better future for the pilinos who live here. ”

“You’re lying—”

“I’m not, Marietta. Look at me.” For the first time, he wore his emotions clear on his face, brows furrowed, lines bracketing his mouth. “Your last words to me at the sculpture garden have hounded me day and night. I can’t stop thinking about them—about you.”

“But the pilinos who are here, who are still hunted by the other city-states—”

“Do you understand how many less used to make it here? In my mother’s reign, most who escaped to Satiros from other city-states died.

My mother hated pilinos and placed the strictest restrictions on humans and half-elves,” he said, his words coming quick.

“I act like an apathetic king so it looks like things slip through the cracks, that I’m not paying enough attention to those who seek refuge here. ”

“You act like an apathetic king?” The foundation on which Marietta built her visage of Wyltam began to crumble. Did he truly care?

“I order Keyain and his men to let them come, let them join the temples, that it isn’t worth the resources to stop them—but it’s because I want them to be safe. I do not have them chase down those who flee to Enomenos; I do not cut down those who hide in The Weeds.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “How can you say that but then attack Enomenos and claim it’s for unity—attacking a city of free people?”

“I told you I wanted to force the conversation between Enomenos and Satiros,” the King snapped.

The anger in his features, his scowl—his frown—made Marietta’s heart skip a beat.

It made him ordinary, approachable, utterly like a typical person.

For a moment, it was as if he didn’t wear his crown.

For a moment, it was as if he trusted her with seeing his emotions.

“Do you know why Keyain was in Enomenos all that time with you?” When she didn’t answer, he continued.

“He was searching for the leader of the Exisotis, The Shepherd. I want to work with them, to unite Satiros with them. Gaining their trust would aid Satiros in becoming an Enomenoan city-state.”

“So, what happened during all this time? People continue to suffer because of your inaction. While you slowly implement change, your laws still consider pilinos lesser people.”

“But I make changes so that their children and grandchildren will know peace. It is the best I can offer.” The King stared into her eyes, the hurt of his situation obvious to Marietta, but she ignored it.

How could he do nothing? “Just make them equals now.”

“You don’t understand the type of destruction that would cause—for the elves who hold wealth in the city and with the other city-states of Syllogi. Marietta, know this: I wish I could.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, still caressing her face. “Do you want to know why I found you so curious?”

“Is this truth for a truth, Wyltam?”

“I don’t need our deal to be honest with you,” he whispered, his gaze on her lips.

“When Keyain brought you to court, your existence shocked us because you were half-elven. Many saw that as a sign of weakness from Keyain, but want to know what I saw?” He leaned in, stopping before her lips.

“Hope,” he murmured. “That those in this city-state with the most tainted views can change. Hope that you are just the beginning. So, I seek you out. I ask you questions. I keep you safe—because you are the future of Satiros. You are the change.”

Breathless, she stared at him with parted lips. “I’m your symbol.”

“No, Marietta,” he said. “You are my future.”

Marietta held her breath. Was it true? Did the King want to help the pilinos citizens of Satiros?

Marietta saw his emotion plainly in his face, the mask lifting and smoke clearing.

The elven man who stood before her attempted to hide none of what he felt.

If his words were honest, then Marietta could help him.

The change was incremental, but what difference would Marietta’s position at court make? Other nobles might be bold enough to marry a pilinos, to include them in court. Perhaps one day soon, Satiros could have both women and pilinos in positions of power.

Marietta searched the King’s face, his expression raw with furrowed brows and wide eyes. King Wyltam wasn’t a monster—just a man doing the best with the cards he was dealt, slowly playing his hand; and she was his hope to win, his hope of change. “Wyltam—”

The King kissed her, pulling her hard against him, both hands caressing her face. Letting go of all thoughts, she sunk herself into the feeling of being kissed by a man trying to change the world for the better. Marietta parted her lips, King Wyltam’s tongue sweeping past her own.

Stupid, so incredibly stupid.

But it was better than she imagined.

Marietta matched his intensity and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the tips of her toes.

His taste, his touch, his need to pull her closer to him woke something in Marietta, something deeper than lust. For that moment, it was just them.

He was just Wyltam and she was just Marietta.

His touch felt familiar, comforting, and his kissing gave in to her need, leaving her craving for more.

Her heart thundered in her chest, feeling alive as they stood in the dim of the landing.

Therypon said to seek the truth and it led her to that moment—being held by King Wyltam, feeling his lips against her own; so she kissed the King and she let him kiss her back.

Marietta was his future. Together, they could bring change to Satiros.

Wyltam pulled back, gazing down at her. “I have half a mind to go somewhere a bit more private, Marietta.”

“Why don’t we?” she murmured.

He gave a breathless laugh as his lips met hers again, pushing her back against the wall. Heat blossomed in her stomach as he kissed along her jaw and down to her neck.

They heard the footsteps on the stairs when it was too late.

By the time they untangled from each other, the damage had been done.

“No, this is a fucking joke.” Keyain stood on the step below the landing with two guards at his side.

He shook his head, covering his mouth as he looked away.

“Is this what returning her to our suite meant?” he asked, his voice rising. “So you could fuck my wife?”

Marietta didn’t dare take a breath. They had made a horrible mistake. In a moment, her plan fell apart, amounting to nothing. Every sweet moment with Keyain, every kiss, every fuck, was for nothing .

One of his soldiers placed a hand on his soldier. “Keyain, keep it down.” He shrugged off their hand and walked toward them.

Marietta glanced at Wyltam, who held his hand out in front of her. “She doesn’t love you, Keyain.”

“Clearly.”

“Why did you marry her? Why did you do this to her?” His deep voice was a growl, the anger underlying his tone making her want to kiss him again.

“Who are you to question that?” Keyain spat.

“Your King, in case you forgot.”

“So you can just fuck anyone’s wife?” Keyain’s voice rose to a yell as he took another step forward. “If you were anyone else, I would hit you right now.”

“You couldn’t lay a hand on me if you tried.” Wyltam stepped in front of Marietta. “Your behavior towards her has been and continues to be a disgrace. You will always be a terrible partner. Why is she here, Keyain? Why did you marry her only to let her rot away?”

Keyain remained quiet with his jaw clenched and eyes burning. On the stairs, one guard murmured to the other and took off.

“Is it because of your odd fixation with Tilan?” Wyltam asked.

To hear his name on the King’s lips—the ones she just had on her own—made her stomach drop.

“Odd fixation?” Keyain laughed. “You sent me there to find the Exisotis.”

“I asked you to find The Shepherd or his family. What were you doing all that time, Keyain? Why stay in Enomenos for Marietta? Why bring her back here if she clearly means nothing to you?”

“She means everything to me,” he growled as he closed the space between them. “I have loved her every day for the past decade—”

“If that’s true, then why did she suffer when she came to Satiros?” Wyltam asked. “I’ve had to check on her well-being multiple times—”

“Does ‘checking her well-being’ mean fucking Marietta? Pushing her up against the dark stairwell when you’re supposed to be returning her to my suite?” Keyain yelled.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Marietta stepped around the King, her blood roaring in her ears.

“I don’t love you, and I often question if I ever truly did.

From the beginning, you’ve treated me like shit, acted as if my feelings are irrational, and let your anger snap whenever you wanted.

” She stepped closer to him, forcing him to take a step back.

Keyain’s lips quivered, and she could see the tears welling in his eyes.

“How are you going to cry over this? I gave up after I found out about Tilan, about the Exisotis,” she said, emotion clipping her voice, “and you left me to rot. You were okay with me wanting to die. How could anyone love you after that?” A hand reached her lower back, realizing the King had approached.

The gesture calmed the building emotion.

“I hate you, Keyain, and I hate being your wife.”

“King Wyltam, a word.” At the top of the connecting staircase dressed in a robe, stood Minister Dyieter. Despite serving Wyltam, the elder elf had a commanding presence, likely from the centuries spent judging others under Satiroan law.

“Now isn’t a great time.” Wyltam stayed his position at her back.

“I think now is the perfect time, considering your voices have carried down the hallways.”

She closed her eyes at the realization. Everyone would know. Gods, Valeriya will know.

With that, the King stepped back. “Marietta, if you’d like to stay somewhere—”

“Perhaps she should remain in her own suite, Your Grace,” Dyieter said, cutting him off. “Considering the alleged adultery you both have committed.”

“We didn’t—”

“It doesn’t matter. The damage has been done and the rumors have already spread.”

“I’ll take her back,” Keyain said, his voice taking on an unnatural calm.

“No, you won’t,” the King protested.

“Someone best take her back.” Dyieter started down the stairs.

“I want to talk to her about all of this, but I have no intention of staying anywhere near her tonight.” Keyain stepped past Marietta. “Come on.”

They had already caused a scene. With Minister Dyieter glaring at her, she took a breath and began to follow Keyain.

Wyltam took her hand in his own. “Do you feel safe?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t look at him. Shame knotted her stomach, realizing everything she had lost by kissing him. “He wouldn’t lay a hand on me.”

“He best not,” the King whispered to her. “Keyain, if there is so much as a scratch on her tomorrow, I will have you detained. Do you understand?”

Keyain didn’t bother to turn around as he answered. “Yeah.”

The King tried to bring her hand up to his mouth, but she pulled it away.

It was too much. Who was she to kiss the King, a married man of the woman she conspired with?

The former lover of the man she was married to?

The ruler of the city-state she hated? Her words were nearly soundless as she turned to his face and said, “I’m sorry.

” Marietta followed Keyain up the steps without another word.