Page 35 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Anger shot to the tip of Elyse’s tongue. “I love that you’re bold enough to make those comments in front of Brynden. Jealousy is a poor look on anyone.”

Lydia raised her brows at the comment, her mouth hanging open, though she said nothing.

Why must she be like this in front of Brynden? Why can’t she hold her tongue? She was so hopelessly stupid. With dread pooling in her gut, Elyse didn’t offer a goodbye as she stepped out of Brynden’s arm and sped to the courtyard doors. She couldn’t do this, not today. Maybe not ever.

Brynden’s voice carried through the foyer. “Funny that you comment about Elyse wearing red as if it isn’t the color of Chorys Dasi. If you—” The door swung shut, muffling his response.

The late morning heat was warmer than expected, offering little help as she tried to suck in air to her chest. Elyse kept her head down as she crossed the courtyard and stepped onto the cobblestone path of the Central Garden.

Nobles and courtesans gawked at her from the benches surrounding a nearby fountain.

“Elyse?” Brynden’s voice carried from the doors.

It was so stupid. Elyse knew she should stop and let Brynden catch up, but the thought of him looking at her after Lydia’s comment made her stomach churn.

Because she woke up late, she didn’t realize how revealing the dress was.

A sheen of sweat covered her, unsure if it was from the running or her nerves.

It was too much—he was too much. Too good.

Elyse rushed down the path of the Central Garden and crossed a bridge that a creek meandered underneath.

What a fool she was to think she had a chance with him, regardless of his marriage comment—an attempt to be kind for her sake in front of Lydia.

Brynden was confident, well-spoken, and held an important position.

Gods, he had used Elyse the same way her father did, to sweeten whatever deal was between them.

“Elyse, please wait,” Bryden called again, still back in the courtyard as she wove her way deeper into the garden.

Panicked, Elyse stepped off the path and into a flower bed, crossing a gap between a row of lilac bushes, and hid behind the row of foliage.

A small meadow of white daisies appeared with a feline statue in the middle with a feathered tail fanned out behind it.

A creek drifted at the edge of the clearing, passing under the bridge she crossed.

Elyse sat down behind the lilac bushes with her head bent to rest on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Her father was right. Brynden was too good for her. His interest in Elyse was only sexual. It had to be—why else would he pursue her?

All she offered was a lifetime of pain, just like what her mother gave her father. No one wanted a life like that, and no one would want a life with her. The similarity between Elyse and her mother had never been more apparent. The realization made her inhales sharp, unable to breathe.

Tears fell as Elyse acknowledged that she would never be a mage either, for she would never control her emotions. This gods damned palace was her prison, and she would always be alone here with her father.

“There you are.”

She jumped, not having heard Brynden approach through the bushes. She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. Shame blossomed from her center. “How did you find me?”

Brynden shrugged. “I just knew.” He crossed the space between them, crouching next to Elyse. Instead of the anger she expected, Brynden only looked concerned. “You’re having quite the bad day, aren’t you?” he asked with a crooked smile that crinkled his eyes, causing her heart to skip a beat.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t do this.”

The deep, rolling laugh made her chest tighten. “Do what?”

“This.” Elyse gestured in the space between them.

“What is it we’re doing? Walking? Talking? Learning more about each other?” His smile remained as he spoke. “I know you’re an anxious person. Your father warned me, for a lack of a better word.”

“Gods, of course, he did.” She shut her eyes, unable to look at him.

“Elyse, it’s alright. Just take a deep breath and talk to me,” he murmured. “I know you were having a bad day before Lydia, so let’s start before that fool opened her mouth.”

Elyse’s eyes popped open. “Fool? Nothing she said was wrong.”

“I don’t care what she said. I really don’t. What I care about is why it bothered you so much.” His hand stroked her shoulder as he spoke.

She looked at him, exasperated. “What do you mean, why? Have you seen me? I look like a mess and like a whore. I—”

Brynden held up his hand to stop her. “First of all, I was honest when I said you looked beautiful. You took my breath away when you stepped out of your room. Second, why would you even say that last part?” Confusion tinged with anger laced his voice.

“Because that’s what you think I am, right?”

“Elyse, what are you talking about?”

She ran her hand over her hair, looking anywhere but at Brynden. “At the ball, the kiss and wanting to go somewhere private.”

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, drawing her attention back to his face.

His hand reached up to brush away a loose strand.

“I’m so sorry I kissed you, and I’m sorry that I tried to take you somewhere private.

I should’ve realized how much the alcohol affected you.

If I had realized it would cause you this much distress, I would have never done it. ”

Her breath caught in her chest. “But I wanted you to kiss me—I can’t stop thinking about it! And that’s part of why I probably am that .” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word once more.

“I’ve done a whole lot more with people I knew a whole lot less, and I wouldn’t ever think to call them that . As I said that night, I expect nothing of you.” That damn crooked smile returned as he added, “Was that your first kiss?”

“I—no. Well, that I didn’t regret, yes. But technically no.” Gods, how did they get to that topic?

“You’re saying Keyain was to marry you for five years—” he held out his hand for dramatic effect “—and he never once kissed you like that?”

She shook her head no.

“And I’m guessing you never shared a bed with him?”

“Gods, Brynden, no.” She shielded her face in her hands.

“Well, I’m trying to figure out how he was your betrothed for that long and didn’t even kiss you as you deserve,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I couldn’t be around you for one evening without kissing you.” A moment passed before he added, “Five years. Really?”

“Please, can we change the subject,” she pleaded, trying to stand.

Brynden’s arm stopped her. “You still haven’t told me all of why you were having a bad day.”

As much as she didn’t want to talk about it, she supposed she owed him an explanation. “I got little sleep last night, and then I woke up late. I’m so sorry for making you wait like that.”

“You will always be worth the wait,” he murmured. For a moment, Elyse thought he meant it. “Why were you up late? Thinking about how I kissed you?” Brynden smirked as he leaned in.

She would regret telling him about that. “I was being dramatic when I said I can’t stop thinking about it. I can, in fact, stop,” she lied, knowing that it was constantly buzzing in the back of her mind.

“Are you sure? You weren’t thinking about it when you were alone in your bed? Late at night? Wishing you weren’t so alone?” he teased.

“Oh, my gods.” Heat crept over Elyse’s cheeks.

“So if it wasn’t the thought of my mouth, and what I’m assuming is the rest of me,” he said with the flick of his brow, “then what robbed you of your sleep?”

“I was reading and couldn’t put my book down.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” she asked.

“Sounds like a lie.”

“Oh, my gods… No! I was reading Fulbryk’s book on the first principle of magic!” she snapped, embarrassment seizing control of her. She recoiled from him, not meaning to have told him the title. Gods, if her father knew.

Brynden blinked, the teasing smirk falling from his face. “Your father said you weren’t capable of magic,” he whispered, his tone serious.

“I’m not,” she said through her hands. “Please don’t tell him what I’m reading.”

“I wouldn’t dream of saying a word to him. I’m just,” he cocked his head, a genuine smile coming to his face, “pleasantly surprised.”

“You are?” Elyse’s eyes were wide as she gawked at him, her hands falling away.

“Of course. Your father spouts how he has this obedient daughter. As if you’re some sort of trained mutt. But here you are, studying magic behind his back,” he leaned in, his lips brushing her own. “You are anything but obedient, and I’ve never wanted to kiss you more.”

Their lips met, Brynden cupping behind her head as he stumbled to his knees.

Her lips parted, kissing him back in the way she imagined every night since the ball.

Brynden was breathless as he pulled away.

The way he gazed at her made her believe that maybe he did want more—made her feel that he would enjoy being married to her.

Her hand found the front of his shirt, pulling him to her face as she fell backward into the daisies.

He laughed into the kiss as he braced himself on top of her, obliging her hunger.

His tongue met hers, and the brief bite of her lip caused heat to pool at her center.

The soft strands of his hair fell between her fingers as she reached up behind his head, pulling him closer, her mouth desperate to get more of him.

Brynden pulled back, leaving Elyse breathless underneath him. The scent of citrus and juniper surrounded her as his russet eyes glowed. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Absolutely stunning. Surrounded by these flowers, I could easily mistake you for a goddess.”