Page 27 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

On the far wall was a singular door, missing the fineries of etchings and carved wood.

She pushed it open, finding a practical office lined with more bookcases and filing cabinets.

From the wood-paneled wall hung a hand-drawn map of the entire Akroi region.

Marietta walked to it, her fingers resting on Olkia, tracing the road to Kentro, to the other cities of Enomenos.

The same roads on which she and Keyain fell in love.

Marietta’s heart turned to ice as she turned around, glaring at the man who took everything from her. “So, this is where you do your dirty work? Start wars? Kill families?”

Keyain didn’t bother hiding his irritation as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, his fingers tapping against the door frame. “This is where I read those reports, actually. The dirty work happens with the King and my team.”

A nugget of information—his reports were in that room. Likely they were locked away, but what did they contain?

She walked over to his desk, her fingers tracing along the wood top to a stack of papers. “Oops,” she said, knocking them to the floor.

A satisfying warmth spread out from her chest as Keyain lost his temper, swearing. “Are you a child, Marietta? Is this necessary?”

“Would you admit to having a child as a wife?” she said sarcastically, strolling past the scattered papers, past him, and out the door. Petty, so incredibly petty.

Her lips tugged into a smile. She could be so much worse.

Marietta crossed the living and dining room to inspect the other side of the living space.

She stopped dead in the doorway. At its center was a four-poster bed with green brocade curtains, the mattress piled high with plush pillows and blankets.

She looked around for another bedroom, her gaze settling on Keyain. “There’s only one bed.”

“Yes?”

“I’m not sharing a bed.”

“Are we not husband and wife?” A smirk curled on his lips, the amusement not reaching his eyes as he leaned against the wall next to the doorway.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she said, striding past him into the suite. “Wouldn’t be the first time I made you do that.”

Keyain grumbled at the memory, and she would’ve smiled if her stomach wasn’t in knots. It was one thing to be forced to live with Keyain—it was another to sleep next to him.

She shuddered and turned to the bathroom, where wood paneling gave way to white marble tiles lining the room.

A golden glow lit the space as she entered.

“Magic must be nice,” she murmured, earning a sigh from Keyain.

Of course, the Syllogi nobles have magic-imbued objects for everyday use.

They controlled the magic, keeping the techniques and use for their own city-states.

When they did sell magic-imbued objects to people in Enomenos, it was at a ridiculous cost.

Across the wall adjacent to the bedroom was a long wood vanity with storage, marble sinks with running taps sprouting from its top, and all set before a seamless glass mirror.

A stone washtub sat at the center of the room upon a dais.

To its side was a small table with vials and a gold tap with a removable wash head.

It was set before…. “Gods, another fireplace?” she said, gaping.

It matched the carved stone of the dining-room hearth.

To its left was the water closet, tucked away from the finery of the ornate bathroom.

Marietta shook her head. The lords of Satiros shit in better rooms than most in Enomenos would ever live.

She returned to the bedroom, coming to another set of doors, and found two mother-of-pearl in-laid wardrobes and a velvet-padded bench. “Yours is on the left,” Keyain said just over her shoulder, causing her to jump.

A smirk lined his face as she turned to him, offering a glare. “Not too close now, lord,” she said, pushing him away.

“Lord husband, if you must.”

Her hands curled at her sides. Even if the suite physically had felt like home—which it didn’t—then Keyain’s presence would be enough to make it not so. Hate furled inside her as she stared at his face, the look of amusement lining his features.

“And your handmaid Amryth will bring your clothes later today.”

Marietta scoffed, pushing past him in the doorway into the bedroom. “I don’t want nor need a handmaid.”

“Why are you fighting me on everything, Mar?” he snapped, following her.

“Don’t call me that,” she snarled.

Keyain sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Look, you’re angry, and I know you’re going to be angry, but you’ve seen what this court is like.

You are very bright, but you don’t know what you’re doing—I’m going to be your only line of defense.

They aren’t aware of what happened to you in Olkia. ”

“Oh, so you’re stepping in to play hero?

You can’t be both my abductor and my savior, Keyain,” she said, squaring up to him, though she stood almost a foot below his head.

“And thanks to you, I went into that tea time blind. The ladies may have mentioned that the humans of Enomenos imprisoned me, keeping me from my poor, devastated husband.” She spat the words, anger and emotion building at her throat.

“If they knew the truth, that you willingly left me, I wouldn’t have been able to get you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her gaze. “You would have been hurt in the attack, Mar. You don’t realize the whole truth of your situation.”

“If you know the whole truth of my situation, then why aren’t you telling me?” Marietta felt bile rise in her throat. More secrets. More lies. When would it stop?

It wouldn’t. Gods, it wouldn’t end, not if she remained in Satiros. Despair clawed at her throat, the walls suddenly too close, Keyain’s touch scathing.

“You’re getting worked up,” he said, dropping his hand. “Today has been a lot for you.”

Heavy tears fell from Marietta’s eyes. Her feet and hands went numb as she stood there. It wasn’t just that day—all of it was too much for her. Tilan’s death, being ripped from her life, being forced to live with Keyain. Gods, she’d have to sleep next to him.

A choking sob came from her throat as she crumpled, self-hate pitting her against herself.

She shouldn’t have cried—she should have fought.

She should have screamed at him, hit him, torn the brocade curtains from the bed.

Keyain deserved a headache. He deserved pain.

Yet Marietta couldn’t overcome her own pain.

“I know,” Keyain whispered, pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry I did this.”

As he led Marietta to the bed, her breath quickened into sharp inhales.

She placed her head between her legs to slow the breathing, Keyain coming to focus as he knelt before her.

“Just lay in bed until this passes. Amryth will bring clothes, but I’ll let her know to leave you be. Just stay in here.”

Marietta nodded, not looking at him as she focused on her breathing, trying to calm herself.

“I have some meetings this afternoon, but I’ll be back for dinner,” he turned away but then turned back to Marietta, kissing her forehead.

The affection caused her body to stiffen. Keyain looked at her with a smile. The touch—his touch—felt familiar but wrong. So very wrong.

The front door latched as Keyain exited the suite. Marietta hugged a pillow to her chest, it catching the tears that fell.

Looking into the bedroom that surrounded her, she felt out of place, dragged into a world she didn’t know or understand. This world—Keyain’s world—was one of luxury, of lies. Gods, of fireplaces. There was another one across from the bed.

She would have laughed, but more than anything, rage grew inside her. For the grotesque wealth, for the absurd amount of fireplaces, for what it all meant—Keyain hid all of it for years, and Marietta bought his half-hearted lies.

All her strength diminished, wishing she could control the situation, to control her life. Marietta thought of Tilan, and her heart shattered again. Her home and her husband were gone. Only Keyain and his duplicities remained.

As Amryth filtered in and out of the room, Marietta paid her no mind. Her thoughts carried her far away from Satiros, to her home—to Olkia. To her husband.

Amryth popped her head into Marietta’s view. Black skin graced her body, and dark hair twisted into tiny braids that swung as she leaned over the bed. “Is there anything else I can get you, Lady Marietta?”

Marietta shook her head.

“I’ll be in the other room if you need anything.” Marietta heard the bedroom door shut. She laid there for hours, lost in her pain.

That evening, Marietta ate dinner with Keyain, something she thought she’d never do again.

Between them sat half-empty platters of pork in a red wine sauce, fried zucchini fritters, flatbread, and grape leaves stuffed with rice, pine nuts, and fresh herbs.

Under normal circumstances, such a spread would be satisfying; yet, this wasn’t a normal circumstance.

The food sat like a rock in her stomach.

“Are you feeling better than earlier?” he asked, removing his napkin from his lap and placing it on the table.

“As best as I can be, considering the situation,” Marietta muttered.

Keyain glanced at her with a frown. “Things will get better, I promise. I’m reworking my plan. It’d be best if you left the palace altogether,” he said, sipping his drink. “The King wants the information, and I can only stall so much.”

“Is the King aware that I was married to Tilan before you abducted me?” Marietta said, her eyebrows raised in mock speculation.

Keyain looked down and rubbed his nose. “No, no one is. At least not that you willingly married him, anyway. Though that’s still up for debate.”

“Or it’s not up for debate.” She set down her fork, her appetite lost.

“I don’t want to get into this. Whether you like it or not, this is the situation you’re in, Marietta. I’m doing my best to make this as safe as possible for you.”