Page 48 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

Elyse

A fter a quick tour of the townhouse, a question burned at the end of Elyse’s tongue, but her stomach churned each time she went to speak. Daryn’s behavior made her uncomfortable, and no one bothered to explain it. They all acted as if nothing happened but it did happen .

Who asks to smell someone they didn’t know?

Who asks to smell someone they did know?

Gods, to think Daryn was also at her father’s dinner parties when she was still a child.

Unaware of herself and her surroundings, Elyse didn’t remember those evenings.

Her father would dress her up and place her on the arm of a friend or colleague, softening whatever deal he wanted.

The memory of it then made her breath quicken.

“Fascinating,” Brynden said, shaking Elyse from her introspection.

“What’s fascinating?”

“I can see a thousand thoughts that cross your mind in an instant and yet you share none. You think more and say less than most people.” The crooked smile returned to his face as he stopped in the wide hallway of the sixth floor.

“Since the night of the ball, I’ve been dying to know those thoughts. ”

Elyse broke from his stare with a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, you do not.”

“And why would that be?”

Because they were erratic and dark, but she couldn’t tell him that. Elyse hesitated, finding her words. “I’m like shattered glass.”

Brynden lifted a brow. “Explain?”

“I’m in tiny, broken pieces and if you try to help put them back together, you’re likely to get hurt.”

Brynden stepped close, lifting her chin to meet his gaze.

“Not true. You are more like a raw diamond fresh from the ground. Resilient, even when mistreated. Led to believe you are nothing before being shaped. But that means you’re full of potential, your true form not yet known.

When you figure out the way you want to be cut, your true nature will shine. ”

Tears welled in her eyes as her breath caught. “I wish that were accurate; I’m soft.” Weak.

“Would you be standing here today if you were?” Brynden’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.

“Would you do things like magic and reading Fulbryk’s if you were soft?

No, Elyse. I don’t know all your pain, but I can see it in you.

I’ve noticed its weight on your shoulders, like that weight lifted earlier today. ”

Elyse looked up into his face as a tear fell, his fingers brushing it away. “Why are you so kind to me? I don’t understand.”

Truly, she did not. Brynden owed her nothing—not time, not energy, not kindness. Regardless of the mess Elyse was, he still wanted to be with her.

“Well, my curiosity began at the ball. My young date, daughter of a foreign minister, arrived with a few drinks already in her system—yes, I noticed immediately,” he said, smirking.

Elyse bit the inside of her cheek, thinking she had hidden it well.

“That was the first odd thing. The second was your gaze drifting to your father to see if he was checking on you—and he was. I saw the disapproving looks as if you were doing something wrong, which you weren’t.

” Brynden lifted his brows, his mouth pursing.

“And then you revealed you read and sing, that your father forbade you to share. His adult daughter.”

Brynden shook his head, staring down the hall. “If I’m being honest, I asked to court you because it seemed like you have never had any fun.”

“So, all of this is because you pity me?” Gods, she was so stupid. Of course, it was. From the beginning, she realized that Brynden being interested in her after one night was—

“There you go again.” Brynden’s voice shook her from her head. “The thoughts flying through your mind, I can practically hear them standing this close.”

“If this is all for pity, then you’ve done more than enough.” Elyse made to step away, but Brynden held on.

“Maybe it was at first, or so I thought. My mind hasn't known peace since the day I met you. Your pouty lips and honey-colored eyes plague my every thought. I often wonder what you’re reading or who you are with. Whether being on top of you, kissing you left you up late at night,” he said, smirking.

“Oh, my gods…” Elyse said, her eyes snapping shut.

She still regretted telling him she couldn’t stop thinking about their first kiss.

If she was honest with herself, she also thought that day in the field.

But instead of the fiery happiness it should have brought her, she only felt dread. Her father marred that entire day.

“And before the fight with Keyain, when I found you huddled in those flowers, my heart broke, and I realized I cared for you more than pity.” Brynden tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Elyse’s breath caught. She could count on one finger the people who have said they cared about her. Brynden might be a stranger but the more she learned of him, the more she found herself hoping. Hoping to leave Satiros and to live happily. Hoping that someone would love her.

“When you admitted to studying magic, betraying your father’s wishes, I saw you were forming your own future, and I wanted to be a part of it.

So yes, pity was the catalyst, but I’m here right now for you, Elyse.

” Brynden kissed her forehead and pulled her tight into a hug.

His juniper and citrus scent filled her.

Elyse pulled back, staring up at him, her heart rattling in her chest. No one has ever given her much thought, much consideration beyond her face value. A lovely ball of nervous energy, doomed to be insane like her mother.

But Brynden saw. He paid attention. The feelings she felt fell dead on her lips. What could she say to match his intensity?

Elyse hesitated. “Why did Daryn want to smell me?” The need to know caused her to blurt out the question.

“That was not what I expected you to say,” he said, taking her hand once more. “Try to forget it for now.”

Elyse pulled her hand from his grasp. “Daryn said you thought I smell like honey, peaches, and cream. That I smell like you Chorys Dasians.” Brynden turned with a frown. “Tell me why he would say that when I smell like none of those things.”

Brynden sighed, running a hand over his hair as he thought. “I truly do not know how to explain this, Elyse, but you smell like that to me.”

“But I don’t smell like those things.”

Brynden shrugged. “I can’t explain it. You just do. Perhaps our Chorys Dasian noses are different; they can smell things that aren’t there. But please, I’m very excited about your surprise.”

Unhappy with his answer, Elyse took his hand and strode down the hallway. Honey, peaches, and cream? Was it possible for someone to smell something that was not there?

Within minutes they approached a door, Brynden opening it to a room with a wall of windows. Light from the setting sun turned the gauzy white drapes into gold, the room glowing with radiance.

To one side were plush, ornate couches and chairs of cream and crimson.

What sat on the other side caused Elyse to pause with curiosity.

“A piano? That’s quite the expense for a townhome you don’t live in full time.

” Pianos were for important occasions. Elyse had heard a rumor of one residing within the Royal’s Wing.

“I am a male of expensive taste, my goddess. And I am also a male of many talents.”

Brynden led her to the black wooden piano, inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl in swirling details. Before it was a matching bench that he sat on, patting the open spot. “Come, my goddess. I have a request.”

Elyse took a seat, giving Brynden some space to move as his fingers slid across the ivory and black keys, filling the room with the bright, clear sounds of the instrument. Awestruck by his playing, Brynden’s talent was unexpected, though it was nothing more than warming up his hands.

“You like to sing.” He gazed at her with a crooked smile. “I like to play the piano. Would the goddess be so gracious to gift me her voice this evening?”

Elyse’s heart hammered in her chest because of his expression shrouded in golden light and that she has never sung for anyone but her mother. “I don’t know that many songs—or popular ones. Nothing you could play along to.”

“Ah, I had a feeling you would say that. Even if it’s just a child’s nursery rhyme, I wish to play along with your voice. I’ve wished to do so since the moment you told me you like to sing.”

Elyse’s heart swelled, thinking of the songs her mother used to sing. “There is one I loved as a child that always brought my mother to tears. However, I don’t remember the name.”

“If you sing the first couple lines, I may know it.” His fingers glided over the keys with ease.

“What if you don’t, and I sound foolish singing alone?” Elyse asked, fidgeting with her cuffs.

“Though I doubt you would sound foolish, you won’t know until you try. Experience this with me.” Brynden’s eyes blazed as he took in Elyse.

She nodded, trying to shake her nervousness. With a deep breath, her sonorous singing voice called out, reciting the song from her childhood.

“ In a land lush with magic and life, our old family keeps. With open ears and open hearts—” she paused, hearing the piano notes step in time with her singing.

Brynden stared at her with wide eyes, lips parted. “The number of times you have surprised me today is astounding. That is a very old song. How did you learn it?”

Elyse returned his incredulous stare. “My mother. We sang it all the time, and I would sing it to her when she could no longer do so herself.”

Brynden shook his head, smiling. “If you start again, I’ll jump in with the piano.”

Elyse took a shaky breath and started the lines again. “ In a land lush with magic and life, our old family keeps. With open ears and open hearts, we can hear their weeps.”