Page 20 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)
Chapter Sixteen
Marietta
T he dizzying effects from the night made Marietta’s head spin as she held it, sitting on the edge of her bed. Awareness edged its way back, starting in the hallways, her body threatening to topple. Keyain had carried her back to her room.
Keyain knelt before her, whispering, “I’m so sorry I’m doing this to you.” She lacked the energy to recoil from his touch as he leaned in with a kiss. Heavy footfalls crossed the floor, and then the door clicked shut.
Scenes of twirling dresses, mystical creatures, mesmerizing dark eyes, and a voice of rolling thunder swirled in her head. Where had they come from? Regardless of placing all her strength towards focusing, Marietta could recall nothing more.
The tight gown she wore grew uncomfortable the longer she sat. The green fabric with gold lace lined her body, the color causing bile to rise in her throat. Satiros’s colors. Keyain was dressing her like a doll, one he could show off to the court, his faithful wife.
Fogginess threatened her vision, and even shaking her head didn’t help her focus.
She wanted the gods’ forsaken dress off her.
The zipper on the side slid down, her hands pulling the fabric off her when one hand slipped into the pocket, finding a folded piece of paper.
She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands as she examined it.
Was it real, or did she imagine it?
Shaky fingers unfolded the paper to find the looping handwriting of smeared charcoal.
“Don’t eat or drink what they bring you. Don’t let them know you know.”
Confused, she reread it once more, trying to make sense of the words. They… they were drugging her food. The words were a warning, but who in Satiros knew Marietta enough to warn her about Keyain? No one in Satiros knew her, save Keyain, but he was the one doing the drugging.
The handle jiggled as a different nurse opened the door. Marietta dove onto her bed, hiding the note underneath her pillow. As the nurse stepped in, Marietta sat on the edge of the bed, forcing her eyes to gloss over.
He said nothing to Marietta as he helped her change, as if he expected Marietta to be incoherent. How long had she been like that? The nurse left the room after changing Marietta into a plain white shift.
She glared at the door, holding her head.
How and when had Keyain turned into a monster?
One that killed her husband, trapped her, and drugged her into oblivion?
How had he attacked the city he knew Marietta loved, then expected her to be okay with it?
Expecting her to live with him in oblivion, absolving him of everything?
Burning hate swelled in her chest as she lay on the bed. Her hand shifted under the pillow, clutching the note. Whoever gave it to her knew what Keyain was doing and wanted to intervene. But why? What did they gain from helping her?
Regardless of their answer, Marietta sent a prayer to whatever god watched over her, thankful that someone had intervened. Tomorrow she would get her chance. She would escape this gods damned place.
The morning sun lit the room as Marietta woke, her hand still clutching the note underneath her pillow. The ache and fogginess lifted from her head, and her thoughts were clear. She hadn’t felt this good in weeks, since before….
Pressure grew in her chest, threatening to choke her. Tilan. He remained dead. The pain of loss threatened her vision. She gripped her sides, taking a shattering breath. A piece of her was missing, one she reached out to but felt nothing. He was dead, and she was in Satiros.
As she sat up in bed, she reread the note. “Don’t eat or drink what they bring you. Don’t let them know.” Though her emotions threatened to drown her, she needed to pull herself together. To focus.
When the nurse stepped into the room, Marietta remained sitting in bed, eyes staring at the wall. “Good morning, Lady Marietta. I expect you slept well,” she said, setting a tray of food on the bed. She grabbed the discarded dress from the night before, leaving Marietta alone.
When the door shut, she jumped up, shoveling part of her porridge and fruit underneath her bed. A quick splash of her water followed, hoping that it was enough to make it appear as if she ate. Someone would find it, but she planned to be gone by the time they did.
The nurse returned as Marietta sat back down on the bed. In her hands was a light blue gown, the fabric tight and thin. Keyain was dressing her again, it seemed. What else should she expect when he thought she was still too drugged to make her own decisions?
“Must be thirsty this morning. That’s the fastest I’ve seen you drink yet,” the nurse said, humming to herself.
Shit, she overdid it.
“For a male, he has good taste,” she said with a smile, glancing at Marietta. She gestured for Marietta to stand. “Pastel colors are lovely with your skin tone, and this blue will make your gray eyes pop.”
The dress slipped over her head, the nurse zipping the fabric tight to her. Hugging her curves, Marietta wanted to protest. Instead, she nodded her head, doing her best to appear groggy.
The nurse sat Marietta in a chair and brushed her curls. Gods, she hadn’t listened to Marietta’s request to use a comb. Of course not. Marietta had no control.
The nurse ran her hands along Marietta’s hairline, pulling back her strands to secure them in a tight knot. Hair covered the blunt tapered tip of her ears. Right, Keyain wouldn’t want her half-elven features to show too much.
Frustrated, Marietta did her best not to smack the nurse’s hands away as she layered jewelry on her. To lose the freedom of dressing herself, of styling her hair, was a defeating feeling. Keyain’s control had reached new limits. Before, he would’ve never made such decisions for her.
A hand fell to her shoulder. The nurse said, “There, all done. You look lovely, my lady. Your husband will enjoy it.” With a wink, she left the room.
Marietta wished for a mirror as she raised a hand to her hair. Her thick curls pulled taut against her head, and she longed to pull it all loose and let it fall to her shoulders. Yet another freedom that Keyain had taken away from her. She wouldn’t forget this.
But she needed to focus. Today was the day—she was escaping.
Keyain’s footfalls echoed down the hall before the door opened.
The large elven man stepped in wearing a simple green shirt covered by a black jacket.
“Good morning, my love,” he murmured, approaching Marietta and kissing her cheek.
His touch was as repulsing as the previous night.
“You look beautiful, as always. I thought we’d go for a walk before you see the Queen today,” he said.
“Remember what I told you about the Queen?”
Gently, he lifted her chin and stared into her face. Never having been on drugs, Marietta thought back to the old drunks in Olkia’s taverns, mimicking their half-smile and glossy eyes.
Keyain sighed. “We don’t trust the Queen, do we, Marietta?”
She nodded at him.
“Very good.” He looped his arm around her, leaving the room behind. She held her breath as Keyain led her out of the infirmary, passing the window she once wished to see. How long ago had that been?
Sunlight filtered through the glass panes, and below she glimpsed the greenery of a garden. A flutter came to her heart, anxiety mixed with anticipation. She was getting out.
Keyain’s idle chatter faded into the background as she absorbed her surroundings. Marbled floor stretched the length of the hall. Green-veined marble columns flanked the passageway, twined with golden vines.
At the end of the hallway, a staircase built of dark wood circled to the floor below. Carved into it was an intricate forest scene with tiny beasts. The creatures enthralled Marietta. Though she wished to inspect the wood, she resisted, letting Keyain guide her down the stairs.
“I’m surprised. You usually try to stop and look at the carvings,” Keyain said in a pleasant tone.
So the drugs gave her little control over her urges. Gods, what else had she done while under its effects?
The staircase opened to the bottom floor. The space was vast and cavernous, with elven men meandering about in groups, some walking to and from the open doorways. Dressed in finery, they looked the part of nobles.
A bit of green caught her eye from the far side of the room. Glass doors showed a garden beyond them, hope filling her chest. She was so close.
A few nobles nodded at Keyain as they passed, pausing their conversation. Odd. Foolish of her to think she ever knew him. All those years together, yet she never even knew his rank or position in Satiros.
Breath hitched in her throat as the reality of her situation hit her.
Marietta was in Satiros at the hand of the stranger who killed her husband.
Those surrounding her were all elven. She was the only half-elf.
It was dangerous for her to be there; they considered her a lesser person under the law.
What rights did she even have? Bile rose in her throat, the crowd of people feeling too close.
Controlling her breath, she kept her tears at bay.
A spindly elf with a crop of white hair approached, his face lined and sagging with age. With his chin pointed up, he looked down at Marietta with narrowed eyes. “Good morning, Keyain and Marietta,” he said with a nasal tone to his voice.
She resisted the urge to lift her chin, to stare him down the same. Instead, she forced a grin.
“Well, aren’t you looking chipper today, you sweet little thing! Keyain, you got lucky to have such a tame little clip at your side,” he added with a wink. The slur made her want to scream.
“I’m lucky to have her back, Royir.” Keyain’s arm that looped around Marietta’s slipped out and folded around her waist. Her body tightened at the touch, and she tried to loosen it. She needed to keep it together. Her chance would come.