Page 22 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Seventeen

Marietta

M arietta needed to run, needed to escape Keyain. His fingers tightened on her chin, pulling her closer as she struggled to leave. “Damn it, Mar. You’re not drugged,” his voice cracked, thick with emotion.

Keyain gripped her arm as she attempted to flee, holding her in place. Panicked, she couldn’t breathe, though she heaved her breaths. She fought him, pulling against his hold,

“Why… how…” he stammered, eyes searching her face for an answer.

“Oh, Keyain, Marietta! What are the chances?” a high, honeyed voice called from the path.

A mask fell over his emotions as his eyes shifted towards the voice. “Queen Valeriya, what are the chances indeed,” he ground out as he dropped Marietta’s chin and offered a stiff bow.

A thin elven woman in a slinky black dress appeared on the path.

Her features were sharp and beautiful, almost as sharp as her eyes that glanced between the two.

“Just in time for tea, as well. I would love to escort her the rest of the way, Keyain. You’re very busy these days,” she said, her thick red hair flipping over her shoulder.

A thin crown of gold was nestled in its mass.

Keyain held his hand out in front of Marietta as if he meant to put distance between her and the Queen. His jaw tensed as he said, “I’m afraid Marietta isn’t feeling well, so she must decline for afternoon tea. I should—”

The Queen raised her hand. A long sigh escaped from his nose. “Need I remind you that this wasn’t an ask? It was a demand.” A smirk spread across her lips. “Come, Marietta. I’ve been dying to meet you.”

As Marietta looked at Keyain, panic seized its last grip on her. With wide eyes, he dropped his hand and let Marietta pass. Keyain’s fingers lingered on her skin as if he wanted to pull her back.

The Queen extended an arm to Marietta that she took, her limbs still numbed. “I’m pleased to see you’re feeling better than last night,” Valeriya said, eyes cutting to Keyain. “You seem more alert today.”

Last night? Did she meet Queen Valeriya? Her tone suggested she knew Keyain had drugged Marietta. The Queen was toying with them. Marietta wanted to turn back to watch Keyain. He was a monster, but at least she could predict him. She understood him.

Why would she be dying to meet Marietta, a simple baker from Olkia? None of it made sense.

As they walked down the garden path, Marietta’s breath still shook, with tears lining her eyes. Quick blinks attempted to hold them back, failing as they trailed down her cheeks.

The Queen held Marietta’s arm, patting it. “Breathe. It’s alright,” she whispered.

Marietta gasped, but her throat was tight.

She couldn’t breathe. Choking, Marietta bent over and grasped at her neck.

The Queen swore and led her off the path to a bench hidden by greenery, gesturing for Marietta to sit.

With each shuddering breath, her vision spotted.

The world spun as she beheld the Queen. It was too much.

She imagined the draw of the knife on Tilan’s throat, the spill of blood as it cut through his flesh.

They destroyed Olkia, her friends killed by Satiroan soldiers, by Keyain’s hand.

Marietta saw her friend Tristina lying dead next to her children, a pool of blood around them.

Keyain’s touch on her skin, his lips a violation of her body.

The moments kept playing in her head, one after another.

“Hush, place your head between your knees,” Valeriya said as she bent down to Marietta’s face. Icy blue eyes peered up at Marietta, her brows knitted with concern. A gentle hand found Marietta’s knee. “It’s alright. I promise I won’t hurt you. Take your time and breathe deeply.”

Marietta focused on the Queen’s face, grounding herself in the moment.

She shook the plaguing thoughts from her mind while counting each breath.

On a count of four, she inhaled, holding her breath, then slowly released it.

With it, Marietta’s heartbeat slowed, and her vision returned to normal.

When she sat up, she looked at the Queen. “How did you know I needed help?”

“It was clear Keyain has been drugging you. I assumed he spiked your food and beverages,” she said as a smirk spread across her lips. “I’m glad you got my note.”

“You… why would the Queen want to help me?” Marietta’s eyes grew wide as Keyain’s warning rang through her head: don’t trust the Queen.

But could she really trust Keyain after everything he did?

The Queen stood, bringing her hand to her chin. “I wanted to see how you’d react while sober and to learn why Keyain drugged you. Now, come. We should meet the other ladies.” She turned, waiting for Marietta to follow.

Trailing Queen Valeriya through the garden, Marietta’s mind raced.

Why help her? To what end was helping Marietta deemed necessary to her?

If she cared for her well-being, wouldn’t the crown intervene in another manner?

There had to be a more official procedure for someone drugging their spouse—some sort of law that prevented it.

Assuming the laws here applied to someone like Marietta. She swallowed hard at the thought.

The Queen flipped her hair over her shoulder, glancing back towards Marietta.

Dignity and grace, that’s how she held herself with her straight back and purposeful gait.

“A queen typically waits for no one, yet your husband has kept you from me. I wonder, Marietta, why that is? Was he not excited to bring his long, lost wife to court? He keeps you locked away, drugged. Why would that be?”

Marietta had thought the same question. Why would Keyain keep her drugged for this long?

He was too smart to think she’d remain in that state.

Did he think she’d fight him, not wanting to be in Satiros?

Of course, Marietta would fight him until her dying breath, but drugs weren’t the only way to suppress her.

He had mentioned she’d be safe in the countryside. Marietta assumed it was to isolate her and to restrict her freedom. Staring at the Queen of Satiros, she realized it might have been to protect Marietta from the Queen’s pressing questions. What was he attempting to hide?

His marriage to Marietta. That had to be it.

He was lying to the court, had them all believing she was his wife. Keyain had to keep her drugged so the Queen wouldn’t know the truth, but she saw through his lie. “I’m not sure, Queen Valeriya,” Marietta said, keeping her expression neutral.

The Queen frowned, then looked ahead before speaking. “The ladies are eager to meet you. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of questions, so try not to let it overwhelm you.”

Heaviness pooled in Marietta’s stomach. Strangers excited her under normal circumstances, learning their stories and personalities, but she didn’t know their court. She’d have to walk into the room completely unprepared.

Heavy raindrops fell, causing the Queen to look up with a frown. “We’ll take the long way to the Royal’s Wing. This palace might sprawl, but at least they made the separate buildings connect.”

Two elves guarded the door as they approached.

Without their helmets on, Marietta noticed one had more masculine features and the other more feminine.

Leaf-shaped pieces of leather armor dyed green spread across their shoulders and abdomens with swords hanging at their sides.

The Queen ignored the guards, leading Marietta into the building.

The parts of the palace she’d seen were already dripping in luxury.

Yet as she stepped into the hall, the lavishness struck her.

Velvet green curtains trailed from the windows.

Gold-gilded frames of artwork hung from the walls clad in expensive dark wood.

Marietta felt out of place, her surroundings too formal for a mere baker.

“I know you have seen little of the palace,” the Queen said, “but this is the Noble’s Section.

I expect you’ll move in with Keyain soon enough.

Any person with a political title or land-holding noble keeps a suite in this building.

Under Satiroan Law, nobles must spend at least half the year in the palace.

They could be here for six months straight or interspersed throughout the year. ”

Marietta’s eyes flicked to the Queen, recalling the days she’d travel with Keyain. He would leave for six months, never telling her the truth. “For what reason?” she asked.

“Remember titles and honorifics, Marietta,” the Queen chided. “And the late Queen Olytia—King Wyltam’s mother who ruled before him—had a wise philosophy of keeping her court close. It’s easier to snuff the flame of rebellion when the wick is under your thumb.”

Marietta raised her brows, the philosophy sounding more controlling than wise. Keeping a thumb on people would suffocate them if held on long enough. Keyain’s nature was just a product of being from Satiros.

“Nobles must return when their duty calls,” the Queen continued, “even if they have completed their six months. Many of Keyain’s subordinates have traveled back to the palace for the war effort.”

Marietta knitted her brows. How high was Keyain’s position? They traveled together, ate together, slept together—he was her gods damned bodyguard; and, yet he held a high enough office to start a war and have subordinates? Unbelievable.

The hallways turned at a set of doors and led to a new section.

Embossed into the floor were two intertwined wisteria flowers of purple amethyst—the Satiroan crest. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the passage, facing the rainy garden to one side.

To the other were columns of green marble laced with golden vines.

A broad staircase sat at the center of the hall, made of rich wood cushioned with plush green carpet.