Page 47 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Brynden laughed, pausing as if he had more to say, but pushed open the door.

“One of the side effects of flushing your system requires a toilet.” He gestured past the door as the room lit, revealing a restroom.

“So I’m going to give you the vial and let you take care of it.

All you need to do is drink and give it a minute.

I have to run upstairs, but I’ll be back to grab you, alright? Just wait for me here.”

Before she could answer, he gave her a quick kiss and headed down the hallway.

Elyse stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

The liquid in the vial looked like water, nothing similar to Choke .

Without another thought, she downed the vial and waited until her bladder suddenly felt as if it would burst.

Once she finished, she waited in the hallway for Brynden, her head clear from the alcohol’s effects.

“My lady.” She turned to find Daryn staring at her with his weird, wide eyes again. “It’s good to see you again.”

Did Daryn follow them? “Have we met before?” Unease settled into her chest.

“Once, about a decade ago. Your father hosted a handful of us from Chorys Dasi. You were acting so obedient that night, Gyrsh having us believe it was his raising. Now I know it was Choke.”

Of course he did. She glared at Daryn for bringing up the memories of those nights, ones that often happened before Keyain. If the ball wasn’t so public, Elyse assumed her father would have drugged her then to be Brynden’s date.

“I have a favor to ask, and it’s going to sound odd. Can you keep it between just you and I?” Daryn took a step closer, causing Elyse to step back.

“That depends.”

“Can I smell you?” he asked, taking another step.

“Excuse me?” Of all the favors she expected, smelling her was not one of them.

“I… uh. Brynden said you have a specific scent, and I was curious.”

“No, you cannot smell me,” she snapped, brows furrowed, her glare deepening. “What kind of favor is that?”

“I know it’s odd,” Daryn said, taking two steps, cornering Elyse. “But please, it could even be your arm.”

“This is highly inappropriate,” she said, pressing herself against the wall. “What would my father say if he knew you were asking me this alone in the hallway?”

Where was Brynden?

Daryn laughed, nervousness laced throughout it. “Gyrsh would blame you, would he not? For turning down a simple, harmless favor of his contact from a foreign entity?”

Gods, he was right—he would blame her and punish her. Daryn took another step towards her, a hand brushing back his blonde hair.

Where in the hells was Brynden?

“Please,” Daryn asked again. “I’m just curious to see if Brynden was correct.”

“Correct about what?” Elyse asked.

“If you smelled like us.”

“Why would I smell like you? Please step back.” Her heart pounded faster as he leaned in close, and she shoved her arm into him. “Stop this.”

Daryn grabbed her arm and brought it to his face, inhaling. Elyse watched with horrified eyes, unsure of what to do.

“Daryn, what are you doing?” Sylas stormed down the hall, his wide nostrils flaring as he gave a menacing stare to Daryn.

After meeting the male sitting down, Elyse didn’t realize how large he was.

Broad-shouldered, about a head and a half taller than Daryn, and absolutely terrifying with the snarl on his face.

“Az was right. She smells like us,” Daryn said, turning to Sylas.

Elyse took her chance and pulled her arm out from his grasp, pressing further back into the wall. What in the gods is wrong with him?

Sylas grabbed Daryn and slammed him into the opposite wall, pinning his shoulders. “You idiot,” he hissed, “that was uncalled for.”

“But she smells like peaches and honey and cream. Like us ,” Daryn said, exasperated. “After Gyrsh said—”

Elyse tilted her head. Why would she smell like any of those things?

“What is this?” Brynden walked towards them with a small box under his arm. “Do I even want to know what Daryn did to terrify my lady so?”

“I’ll give you the full details later,” Sylas growled.

Elyse turned to Brynden, arms wrapped around herself. “He was trying to smell me, stating you thought my scent was of food.”

A smile came to Brynden that didn’t reach his eyes. “And what else?”

“He grabbed my arm so he could smell me after I told him no.”

Brynden walked towards the group, handing the wooden box to Elyse. “Please hold this for a moment, my goddess.”

He stalked towards Daryn as Sylas backed off, crossing his arms with a disapproving grimace.

Brynden grabbed Daryn by his shirt, jerking him back into the wall.

“If you ever so much as lay a finger on Elyse again without her permission, then I will break both your hands. Do I make myself clear?” Despite his anger, Brynden kept his voice calm and low, his eyes boring through his friend.

“Yes, my—,” Daryn said, cut off by Brynden slamming into the wall.

“Get your shit together or you will need to leave. Understood?” he threatened.

Daryn only nodded his head, biting back his reply. Elyse shook where she stood, something glass rattling in the box Brynden handed her.

Her mind raced as she followed the three males back to the courtyard. Why would Brynden tell them how she smelled ? And of things she most definitely didn’t smell like, let alone like them .

Between Sylas and Brynden’s anger, the silence was almost unbearable, their rage similar to that of her father’s. Brynden had lost his temper twice over minor things—was he always like this? Was she jumping from one controlling male to another?

No, because he didn’t want her to be some complicit wife. At least that much was obvious. But what else did she know of him?

She knew little of Brynden. That was her third time spending time with him, and he was already so protective of her. None of it made sense. Brynden courting her after meeting her once, continuing to court her even after the incident . What was his angle? Elyse wasn’t worth the hassle.

Silence still encased their group as they returned to the courtyard, Oryck looking between them all. “I missed something. Tell me what I missed.”

“Nothing.” Brynden flashed a smile and opened the wooden box. Inside was a leafy mixture smelling like burnt resin. He filled a few pipes before handing one to Sylas and Oryck.

Oryck raised his eyebrows to Daryn, gleaning something had angered Brynden.

“So Elyse, my goddess, all you have to do is inhale,” Brynden said, holding a pipe in his hands towards her. “Have you ever smoked before?”

She shook her head. It was all new to her, and she couldn’t believe she was doing it.

“Well, you’ll experience a little burning in the chest, but it should adjust after a few times. Here, try it.” Brynden handed her the pipe. From his fingertips, a small flame appeared that he dipped into the pipe. “Inhale.”

Magic. Of course, Brynden could do magic.

Suppressing the shock of his ability, Elyse brought the pipe to her mouth, inhaling. Smoky resin and peppered smoke filled her lungs. A cough racketed through her chest, causing her to fumble with the pipe, but Brynden steadied her hand.

The effects came slowly at first, her thoughts still racing, but the impending doom that always lingered over her head lessened and… she was okay.

There was no doom, no stress. She looked at Brynden, who puffed out a cloud of white and turned to her, and her breath caught. The crooked smile returned, his eyes ablaze with an emotion Elyse couldn’t place.

“How do you feel, goddess?” he said, keeping his voice low as the other males chatted and smoked.

“Like a great weight lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t even know I was holding it until it was gone.” She rolled her neck, closing her eyes as her head tilted back in the sun. She smiled at the lightness in her heart, in her chest.

“If I could see that smile every day for the rest of my life, it still wouldn’t be enough.” Brynden leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“If you could show me everything the world has to offer, then I would smile like this every day.” She peeked one eye open towards Brynden, his smile still caught on his face.

“Once more should be enough for you.” Brynden handed her back the pipe.

She smoked again, the effects stronger the second time around after her coughing subsided. All her worries vanished—even the ones that always ebbed at the edge of her mind. The sense of being watched, the unease in it, vanished as well.

Was this how normal people felt?

As she looked at the Chorys Dasian males laughing as they smoked, the friendship and relationship they had, Elyse knew she was missing something.

A lot of things. Life’s simple pleasures of sitting around with friends, joking, and enjoying the moment, were foreign to her.

Elyse’s heart ached for it. Her hand grasped Brynden’s, and she squeezed.

“If you can give me a life like this,” she whispered to him, “then I will love you until the end of time.”

“Of what? Smoking?” he teased, pulling her close to him.

“Moments of peace, of laughter, of friendship. The freedom to be happy and to enjoy life.” Elyse turned her gaze to his russet eyes. “I want to live and to love, Brynden. I want to experience everything that’s been kept from me.”

Brynden swallowed hard, his gaze roaming her face. The world subsided as they stared at one another, an unspoken understanding passing between them. His lips ticked up in a smile and he glanced down, then back at her. Brynden opened his mouth to speak, but his response was cut off.

“You two are awfully quiet over there,” Oryck said. “Are you walking her through aithyr?”

Brynden hesitated, pulling his gaze from Elyse. “I don’t think I need to walk her through anything. If Fulbryk can keep her up through the night reading, then I think she’s ready.”

Elyse nodded, remembering her reading. Aithyr was all around them, ever-flowing and ever-present. All she needed to do was have her mind reach out and….

She gasped, not registering what someone said, followed by some chuckles.

Instead, she focused on the flow of aithyr all around her.

The paths were faint and hazy white. A strong, thick current of energy flowed in front of her before snaking up and over the house.

Smaller streams of energy wove through the courtyard, swirling around the males.

Elyse’s mind pulled at a smaller stream first, the aithyr drawn to her. Energy entered her body, causing her to gasp again, but the energy stayed thrumming inside.

But what should she do with it?

Thinking back to Fulbryk’s, she imagined transferring the energy to her hand, creating fire as Bryden did.

Her hand burst into flames as her surroundings came back into focus. Brynden jumped back while someone else yelled. The flames covered her hand and the cuff of her sleeve. Heat danced over her skin as she watched in amazement. She’d done magic.

Despite being soft and weak like her father suggested, this moment proved otherwise. She could do it. The magic felt incredible, all-empowering. With that kind of power, she could have the freedom to do whatever she wished. She laughed as the flames flickered up from her hand.

Water appeared from Brynden, dousing her hand and sleeve. “Are you okay? How bad is the burn?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, observing her unmarred skin and dress. “I didn’t let it hurt me.”

Sylas swore and sat forward in his chair. “And you never touched aithyr before just now?”

“No, but I felt it all around us. I could see what it looked like. Through here—” Elyse sat forward, tracing the strong current of aithyr with her arm “—there was a big stream. I just tried a smaller stream that was closer, though.”

Brynden stared at her with his mouth agape. The other males held similar expressions.

“What?”

“Gyrsh is a bloody liar. Your talent could outshine your mother’s,” Sylas stated. “Even with drugs, most mages can’t get that clear of a reading on aithyr, let alone on their first time. Can you create the flames again? And hold it as you did?”

Elyse nodded, focusing on the aithyr once more. That time, she dipped into the strong current, expecting its strength and pulling out a small amount of energy. Like before, she imagined her hand lit in flame and transferred the energy.

Flames licked up her sleeve, heat encompassing her skin but it did not burn.

Bryden reached out his hand to the flame. “It’s not an illusion, Sylas,” he said, laughing.

“Elyse, can you toss it up and catch it back in your hand?” Sylas asked, his brows furrowed with his attention locked on her.

She bit her tongue as she tossed her hand, focusing on the energy. The flames formed a ball as she tossed it in the air, catching it as it fell.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sylas sat back in his chair, confusion mixed with his scowl as he regarded Elyse.

She let the flames sputter out as the aithyr she held burnt away. “What does this mean?”

“It means I’ll have the most beautiful and most talented wife,” Brynden said. “That was incredible.”

Elyse turned to Brynden with wide eyes, his words registering. He winked before pulling her close to him, his scent and touch mixing with excitement in her chest.

Brynden intended to marry her.

The afternoon wore on with Brynden, Sylas, and Oryck calling out different ways to manipulate aithyr, Daryn consciously remaining quiet.

She summoned water, like Brynden, and a wind that blew back his hair.

Sylas challenged her to try an illusion—changing the clothing she wore.

Her ability to keep using aithyr faltered after an afternoon of effort, and she could change only the color to black.

The effects of Mage’s Eye wore off, but Elyse’s mood remained light and cheery, slipping into easy conversation.

Brynden called for food and drink, and servants arrived with a platter of olives, cheeses, bread, and meats. They also brought carafes of dark red wine, filling their glasses to the brim.

Elyse picked around the meat, catching Oryck’s attention. “Not a fan of goat?”

“Oh, I don’t eat meat,” she answered, taking a sip of the tart and full-bodied wine.

“Why’s that?” Sylas asked between bites.

She hesitated, turning to Brynden.

“Is there a reason?” he asked.

“The scent and flavor make my stomach churn,” she offered a tight-lipped smile to Brynden, who gave her a curious look but didn’t press further.

Not long after, the sun dipped below the roofline, casting the courtyard in the shade. Brynden clapped his hands. “Well, my friends, I think Elyse and I have done our due diligence on being chaperoned. Now, if you will excuse us, I have a surprise for her upstairs.”

Sylas tried to scowl, but a smile cracked through. “Have fun, don’t be too long. We have a meeting tonight.”

Brynden swatted a hand at him as he led Elyse inside the townhouse.