Page 147 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)
Chapter One Hundred One
Marietta
M arietta couldn’t feel the goddess’s magic thrumming under her skin or the heat of her presence in her chest, but Therypon watched over her. The truth Elyse had brought her shook her very being to her core.
The fey discovery—learning that Az, better known as Brynden, or the gods damned Prince of Chorys Dasi was a fey—seemed impossible.
To discover he was the one brutalizing pilinos, carving clip into their foreheads made her furious.
They hid inside the court the whole time.
At least they had been right about the murderers being from Chorys Dasi.
If Marietta’s plan worked, if she lived through today, then she would raise all seven layers of hell to bring Azarys to justice.
What Elyse had shared about her father and the truth around her birth explained so much. It gave her an idea of how to leverage herself in court, standing on trial for crimes she both did and did not commit. If her plan didn’t work, then at least damage would be done.
Marietta stood between two guards, the doors to the throne room towering before her. How funny her abduction to Satiros ended with her on trial for murder while Tilan lived in the dungeons. She wondered if he knew that she was in Satiros at all.
There was a knock, and then the guards ushered in Marietta. Cavernous, the room appeared as empty as Marietta felt. Her footsteps echoed in the quietness.
Across from the entrance loomed a massive stained-glass window.
The light shone through its panes of greenery and swirling flowers, bathing the room in its glow.
Before it, dressed in his contrasting black, sat Wyltam on a golden throne, an ornate crown replacing his usual simple golden circlet.
He didn’t seem to breathe as she neared.
His ministers fanned out from his dais. Minister Dyieter stood apart, waiting at a podium for Marietta to approach.
Keyain wouldn’t look at her. Gods, of course, he wouldn’t.
After all, this was his fault. He should have left her in Olkia, left her to her life.
At least he would end their marriage today—that had been one bit of information Elyse passed on.
Besides the ministers, groups of their men watched.
Off to one side stood Wynn and Elyse. The latter nodded at her.
She knew Marietta’s plan, had even helped her run through all the ways it could go wrong.
Wynn leaned down to whisper something to her, squeezing her shoulder.
Elyse locked her eyes with Marietta as she whispered something back to Wynn.
The attendants of Therypon stood across from them.
With a grimace, Coryn shook his head. Next to him was Nosokyma, who glared at the ministers and the King.
Amryth was without her uniform, holding Deania, who cried.
The sight crushed her. The people who risked everything to keep her safe now had to watch her gamble with her life.
More men stood in the galley’s shadows. They spoke in hushed whispers, their voices not carrying, but Marietta saw their lips all the same. Some dared to smile. She wanted to sneer at them but didn’t have her usual fire. Calm washed over Marietta as she approached the dais.
She lifted her chin, daring Keyain to look at her. Instead, Dyieter cleared his throat, pulling her attention. “Lady Marietta, the King’s Council of Ministers has gathered today to decide your future, but before we get to that, there’s unfinished business.”
Keyain stepped forward, his stare landing anywhere but on Marietta as he approached her side.
He turned, facing the dais. “I move to annul my marriage to Lady Marietta under the grounds of adultery and high treason to the court of Satiros.” Adultery.
He’d rather slander her name than help save her. Never would she forget his betrayal.
The King watched Marietta as he answered. “Approved.” Unlike the day he visited her in the infirmary, he tucked away his emotions.
Keyain walked to Dyieter, signing a paper before stepping in line with the other ministers.
“As it should be. After all, Marietta lied to Keyain about being with child.” Dyieter set papers down with a raised brow. “But now,” he said with a clap of his hands, “we can begin. Marietta Vallynte—apologies, that’s no longer your name.”
Vexed, Marietta wished to wipe the smirk clean from his face.
“Marietta Lytpier, you stand on trial for treachery against Satiros and the crown.”
So Wyltam had not told them yet. Hope grew in her chest, realizing she could still get the information out before him.
Turning to the ministers, Dyieter added, “We charge Marietta with delivering sensitive information to our enemies, aiding in their war efforts. During our apprehension of her, she incited a riot, and then she conspired in the tragic death of Queen Valeriya.”
Marietta bit back her surprise. The riot had not been her fault—it wasn’t her sword taking the lives of citizens. She withheld a scoff. They were throwing any charge at her to justify her execution.
“Two of the charges are worthy of death,” Dyieter continued. “The other is a serious crime. Without defense, the Ministers of the King’s Council will—”
“You didn’t ask if she had one.” Wyltam’s voice echoed across the empty room.
Rage mixed with adoration, for they would not give her a defense. Wyltam had to save her, the idea of both making her heart skip a beat and her stomach nauseous.
“Your Grace, who do you suppose would stand at her defense since I have already denied the temple custody of her?”
The King stood, taking his time to smooth his clothes and walk to the edge of the dais with his hands pocketed. “I stand in defense of Marietta.”
The bastard. The stupid, helpful bastard. Marietta dug her nails into her palms as she lifted her chin. “I stand in defense of myself,” she responded.
A few chuckles sounded from the side. She caught the gaze of Minister Adryan, who looked delighted by her outburst.
“I don’t think you want to do that, Lady Marietta.” Wyltam’s voice strained as he spoke. “Let me help you.”
Minister Dyieter smirked. “It seems she’s already decided.”
To her left, a squat man with dark hair and tan skin stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“You may speak, Minister Rymos,” Dyieter said.
“The rules of conduct state that the person on trial can choose at any moment to have someone stand in their defense, even after rejecting it,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Marietta may also speak as needed during her statement with any information that may help better inform us Ministers.”
“Well,” Dyieter said, “it’ll be entertaining, at least.”
“Your Grace,” Rymos added, turning to Wyltam, “you are our King. If we go against your defense, how do we ensure you won’t seek retribution?”
Wyltam glanced at him. “If I wanted my ministers to serve me blindly, I would pardon Marietta without a trial.” His dark eyes found her. “But I am not my mother. I ask you all to listen to the information we present and use it for your judgment.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” answered Rymos. “With that in mind, we can continue.”
Dyieter sighed and cleared his throat. “You may begin the defense, King Wyltam.”
Marietta bit back her irritation—of course, they would have him start. She took a deep breath and waited for her opening.
“When Minister Keyain shared he took a wife in secret, I decided to investigate, for there had to be a reason he never brought her to court.” Pausing, he glanced at Keyain.
“And the reason had to be beyond her capture by the Exisotis. Over the past couple of months, I sought Marietta’s company, and I would ask her harmless snippets from her life. What I discovered was the truth.”
Marietta furrowed her brows, glancing between Wyltam and Keyain, who paled.
“First, I will address the easily disputable charges—at least easy to dispute when you have a defense.”
Dyieter stiffened with the comment.
“Marietta did not incite that riot.” His voice called in the quietness.
“Yesterday, the attendants pleaded on her behalf. We discovered that while a crowd gathered outside, Marietta was within the temple of Therypon, undergoing the ceremony to be named an Iros. My summons for Marietta inspired Satiros’s most devoted to the streets.
The guards’ presence put them on edge.” The King paused, gesturing to Keyain.
“Though we at court are not ones to follow the deities, it’s not a crime in Satiros to worship them or become any level of their attendants—Iros or otherwise. ”
Murmurs echoed from the galley at the King’s words. How easily he dismissed the blatant charge. The ministers orchestrated this, believing Marietta would have no one to defend her.
But she did. She stared at the King with parted lips, raising her brows.
“Second, I was beside Marietta and Valeriya at the time of the assassination. The riot served as a distraction for our guard, leaving high-ranking members of court vulnerable—”
“You and Queen Valeriya had no reason to leave the Royal Suite,” Dyieter said, cutting off the King.
“Do you question our loyalty to our city-state? To our people?” Wyltam asked. “I heard they gathered outside from my summons, and as the leaders of Satiros, we needed to witness it.”
Dyieter bit down his retort, motioning for King Wyltam to continue.
“As I was saying, Valeriya sensed the attack before it happened, warning us to return inside. Yet when the assassin struck, Valeriya protected Marietta.”
“Why would the Queen of Satiros risk her life for a pilinos?” Dyieter asked, drawling out the word.
Marietta went to speak, but Wyltam held a hand. She bristled as he continued.
“Valeriya understood Marietta’s death would fuel the riot,” he said. “And she knew it would stoke Enomenos and the Exisotis’ vengeance. Before her death, I shared with her the truth of who Marietta is.”
“No,” Keyain whispered, drawing Marietta’s attention. His skin paling further, he now appeared as if he’d be sick.