Page 45 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Thirty

Elyse

“ R emember to not make a fool of yourself today,” Elyse’s father said, picking fuzz off a navy jacket as he ignored the heat from the early afternoon sun. “Last time was enough of an embarrassment for a lifetime. I need not remind you what the consequences would be.”

The implication lingered between them, and Elyse swallowed hard. No, she wouldn’t think of the consequences. “I’ll be on my best behavior, father.” She hated the words, and she hated her father for expecting them.

After Keyain and Brynden’s fight, referred to as the incident , it surprised Elyse that Brynden wished to call on her again. More surprising was her father agreeing to let Elyse leave the palace.

The Chorys Dasians stayed at a townhouse nearby, though Elyse questioned why they wouldn’t stay in the designated section of the palace for foreign dignitaries.

But who was she to question? She’d get to visit with Brynden and enjoy a day of freedom.

No palace. No father. No watchful eyes. Excitement bubbled at her center, a mixture of nerves and giddiness.

Her father ordered a handmaid back full time for Elyse since Brynden wished to continue pursuing her hand in marriage. Though she dreaded sitting through the awkward silence, Elyse was thankful for their expert touch.

Much to her surprise, she felt beautiful. People claimed she was a beauty, and Elyse knew they didn’t lie, but she was uncomfortable in her skin. She could not see what others saw. It was as if her clothes or hair never fit her, like they belonged to a different person.

Except for that afternoon, in her gown of pale blush, striking against her bronze skin.

The tight-fitted lace corset bodice flowed into a tulle skirt with slits well up her thighs.

A sweetheart neckline complemented what few curves she possessed.

The sleeves started mid-arm, billowing out in the sheer fabric and gathering again at her wrists.

The handmaid twisted her hair up with loose strands of honey brown hair falling free; her shoulders laid bare.

For once, her father had nothing to nitpick on her appearance. That alone set her nerves at ease. Well, that and the liquor. Three cups, to be exact, kept them eased as well.

An ostentatious carriage pulled up to the curb outside the palace, painted black with red and gold filigree adorning the trim and doors. At the helm sat a mage who propelled the vehicle with magic.

The door flung open, revealing Brynden, his straight black hair pulled into a knot, extenuating the planes of his face.

Draped on his body was a silk shirt with a deep neckline dropping to his navel with ruffles.

Similar to her dress, the sleeves billowed out and were tight at his wrists.

A gold chain hung deep into his neckline, with a small gold medallion hanging from the end.

Handsome, but like the carriage, ostentatious.

Elyse suppressed a laugh as he bowed dramatically, a full smile lining his face. “Oh, my dear Elyse, how I have missed you so.”

Before she responded, Brynden slipped one hand behind her head, the other at her waist, pulling Elyse into a kiss. His grasp was firm, his kisses soft as he started with her lips and moved to her cheek, causing heat to flood her face.

Her father cleared his throat as he stood right next to them.

Brynden pulled back with a mischievous grin. “Hello, my goddess,” he murmured, lacing their hands together.

“Brynden, it’s good to catch you outside our meetings.” Her father stepped up, offering his hand. In his plain clothes, her father looked subdued next to Brynden.

“Gyrsh, always a pleasure.” Brynden took her father’s hand. “I’ve looked forward to spoiling your daughter all week.”

“Don’t spoil her too much. I wouldn’t want Elyse to forget her place.”

Elyse didn’t miss the warning in her father’s words. She was lucky she even had this opportunity with him.

Brynden pulled her close, the juniper and citrus scent becoming stronger. “Well, it’s a good thing her place is at my side,” he said with a wink. “But we should be off.”

Before her father could answer, Brynden led her to the carriage.

A slight limp in her gait caught Brynden’s eye, though he didn’t comment.

Instead, he offered a hand as she entered the carriage.

With a last glance back, her father gave her a look that said she should be grateful. Grateful didn’t cover it.

Inside the carriage, Brynden lounged across from Elyse on an upholstered seat as the carriage rolled forward.

The neckline of his shirt hung loose, revealing his olive skin and the sculpted shape of his body beneath.

She had seen glimpses of his chest before but now she could confirm how toned they were.

Though he was no longer in the army, he remained fit.

“See something you like?”

“Just admiring the interesting choice in shirt.” A smirk came to her lips.

“I believe you’re admiring more than just the shirt, my goddess. After our last encounter, I figured you’d appreciate a deep neckline. As you see,” he gestured to his chest with a hand, “I won’t be outshined by your remarkable fashion choices.”

A laugh escaped from Elyse as she rolled her eyes. “Minutes into spending time with me and you’re already teasing.” The banter was easy, lighthearted—just like the night they met.

“Sassy today, are we? My friends will enjoy that.”

Elyse tilted her head. “Friends? It won’t be just us?”

“I wish it were just us, but I’ve assured your father chaperons would be around so no one will find me on top of you in a field again.” His russet eyes gleamed with amusement. “You met them at the ball.”

Gods, her father introduced her to the Chorys Dasians, but alcohol made her forget. “Perhaps you can remind me of their names. That was some time ago.”

“It would be my absolute pleasure to tell them my beautiful date forgot their names because my alluring nature distracted her,” Brynden said, pulling open his shirt more.

“Oh, my gods….”

A genuine smile came to his lips. “It’s cute that you say that.”

“Say what?”

“Oh, my gods this, gods that. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re one of their followers.” A dark eyebrow lifted as he spoke.

“Just because I don’t follow them doesn’t make them not real.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he said, sitting up and placing his forearms on his knees. “But being real doesn’t make the gods as all-powerful as they would like us to believe.”

Brynden dropped to his knees before Elyse, placing himself between her legs. Heat crept across her cheeks again as his face became inches from her own. “I digress—we won’t spend the entire time with my friends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just because your father thinks there will be constant chaperoning doesn’t mean there will be.” He smirked and added, “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise. If kissing you at the ball sent you over the edge, then I can’t imagine what straddling you in a field of flowers did for you.”

Elyse’s heart heaved in her chest, but the liquor emboldened her words. “If I told you I already forgot about it, how would you feel?”

“Hurt, because you would be lying. There is no way you forgot.” Both of his hands crossed over his heart with dramatic flare. “It brings me much joy knowing you feel better today.” Brynden leaned in. “Perhaps you’re well enough for another kiss?”

Elyse leaned forward, her lips locking with his and Brynden caressed her cheek, his lips soft.

“Hmm,” Brynden said, pulling back. “That’s what I thought.”

“What?”

“Alcohol. Couldn’t get through one afternoon without drinking?” He raised an eyebrow in speculation with a crooked smile.

“After last time, my father didn’t want to risk it, so he had me drink a glass or two,” she said as she avoided his gaze. She hated that he knew, hated that she even needed it to talk to him.

Brynden’s thumb brushed across her mouth as he cupped her cheek. “There’s nothing to worry about. Unless I’m so unbearable that you need to drink to get through the afternoon.”

“Gods, no. You are more than bearable. I just… get nervous. And you’re so perfect. And handsome.” What was she saying? “I enjoy your company and don’t want to mess this up.”

“There is nothing you can do to mess this up, goddess.”

Her breath snatched, not realizing how much she needed that reassurance. Elyse glanced at her lap then back at him as her smile grew.

The carriage came to a stop as Brynden kissed her again. “Remember to repeat the part about me being perfect and handsome to my friends. They’ll be thrilled that someone is feeding my ego.”

With one last kiss, he stood, exiting the carriage with an extended hand to Elyse.

Brynden escorted her to the staircase that led to the townhouse before them. Six stories high in white-washed stone clad in green vines, it looked like any of the homes along the street, except for the columns and ornamentations added to the outside, painted in crimson and gold like the carriage.

“May I welcome you to my home away from home, my goddess?” Brynden led her over the threshold, beholding the cavernous foyer.

Black tiles patterned the floor, meeting the dark wood wainscoting of the walls. A rug of crimson, black, and gold sprawled below them depicting scenes of elves on ships, of a minotaur howling.

A grand staircase curved from the second floor with a crimson runner lining the steps. Banisters of rich, dark wood lined the staircase, the ends capped with a carved bull head.

“Though I’d love to give you the grand tour now, it’ll have to wait until I show you your surprise upstairs.” Brynden winked as he strolled over to a living room, only partially separated from the entry.

Elyse followed him, though her gait slowed by the frustrating pain in her hip. Staying a step behind Brynden, she hoped he wouldn’t notice it again. “Surprise? What surprise?”