Page 59 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

“It’s a good sign,” he added after a moment. “Almost like you just needed time to process and not a temple.”

Her anger won out. “I wouldn’t want the King to stop by again and find me so neglected ,” she snapped, eyes focused on the curl she wrapped around her fingers.

“I found out after the fact, and I’m sorry he surprised you.” From the corner of her eye, she watched Keyain rub the back of his neck, stalling his words. “Sometimes he likes to show up, to make sure things are okay. I talked to him a few days ago, and I mentioned you needed some time to adjust.”

Determined to ignore him, she said nothing.

“Mar,” he said, approaching her with a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry I put you through all of this. I promise that this was to protect you—because I love you.”

Keyain crouched next to her chair as she worked, his eyes bearing into her.

“Did you know I thought of you every day we were apart? I thought of you when I struggled. When I felt nervous, it was you I saw to steady myself. I thought of you when I felt at my happiest. When I was at my saddest. Your face, your laugh—they were both with me all this time.” Keyain paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

His hand fell on her leg. “When I learned you were seeing someone new, I accepted it. It hurt, obviously, but I took solace knowing you were doing your best to be happy.” Trembling, he paused for a breath.

“But when I learned who you were with, I lost control of myself. Wyl locked me in a room to keep me from riding to Olkia until I calmed down.”

He swallowed hard. And yet Marietta said nothing, content to listen.

“I was distraught, Mar,” he said, his voice tight. “I had to sit here and imagine what the Exisotis would do. It broke me, Marietta.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her thigh.

“When we finalized the attack on Olkia, I had to save you from the Exisotis. I begged Wyltam, risking my career to rescue you,” his voice cracked, thick with emotion.

“That’s when he learned you were my wife.

I showed him the marriage certificate I signed when I thought you’d move to Satiros.

He agreed that having the wife of one of his ministers kidnapped by our enemy was a risk and was furious when he learned how long you’d been in their custody. ”

Keyain waited for Marietta to respond, but she only offered silent tears that slid down her face as she secured a silk scarf around her hair.

“Tilan knew me. The Exisotis knew me, too. I tracked them for years—had tracked Tilan since he began building weapons for the Exisotis.” He shook his head, still pressed against her.

“You weren’t supposed to see Tilan die. I didn’t want that memory to haunt you, even if he’s an evil man.

That day at his apartment, I realized how deep his deception went.

” His voice cracked again. “And I was so scared. My only regret is not saving you sooner.”

On the day he referred to, Keyain nearly broke down the door to Tilan’s apartment and tried to take her away. An event Marietta thought about since learning the truth, remembering Tilan denying he knew Keyain. Tilan lied, and she’d believed him with her whole heart.

Even then, Tilan was with the Exisotis. The lies had been present from the beginning, forming the foundation of their relationship. The truth revealed cracks that were always there, waiting for their relationship to crumble.

Keyain was out of line with how he warned Marietta, tracking her through the cities as she visited clients. Yet he’d tried to warn her. He’d attempted to help her.

“Please say something,” Keyain begged.

There was nothing she could say. Marietta’s hand fell to his neck, where skin met hair, and she rubbed gently, earning a deep sigh from Keyain. He looked up at her, the green in his eyes vibrant against his red, swollen skin. “I love you so much.”

In his own twisted way, she knew Keyain loved her and had always loved her.

Parts of her would always feel that affection back for him, but their time was done.

Too many fights. Too many hurt feelings.

Too many incidents that made Marietta feel small.

Staring into his eyes, she felt it all: the good, the bad, and everything in between.

Perhaps for one night, though, she could entertain the idea of letting Keyain be sweet to her.

It would at least soften the question she’d inevitably ask tomorrow.

For the first time in so many nights, Marietta led Keyain to the bed and fell asleep in his arms.

The bedroom glowed with morning light as Marietta opened her eyes.

Wrapped around her was Keyain, his deep breathing indicative of sleep.

Marietta rolled over, lying face to face with him.

As he slept, he looked peaceful, no sign of the anger that seemed to be always a breath away.

The splattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks were as she remembered them.

For a moment, she let herself imagine they were at an inn, that they would head down to breakfast soon.

The ache in her heart for those days came suddenly to her.

After Marietta left Keyain, she blocked out those memories, too painful to remember.

The emotions, the love she had for him, didn’t make a difference.

Keyain imagined a very different future for them, one Marietta would never agree to, yet there she was, in his arms once more.

She was angry, and rightfully so, but Keyain was doing what he did best—protect.

Though, if he could fight someone to defend her and could repeat his protection narrative to her time and time again, then why couldn’t he understand the help she actually needed? Even after she told him verbatim?

Marietta traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, sweeping against his cheeks and lips. A face so familiar, one she woke up to a thousand times with a kiss each morning. Why couldn’t he understand?

Back then, he was the Minister of Protection but never told Marietta.

If he had, she would have ended their relationship immediately, which meant she understood why Keyain hid it.

He was always honest about keeping his job a secret, so he never did lie to her.

But leaving out that he was the King of Satiros’ best friend and a minister was a glaring oversight.

The fact he hid it still angered her, but at least he didn’t lie. In that way, he treated her better than Tilan.

Keyain’s eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep as his body grew taut with a stretch. Her hand cupped his face, Keyain turning to kiss her palm. “Good morning,” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Good morning.” She dragged her hand through his sleep-mussed hair, smoothing the brown strands.

It was then she decided that she’d ask him one last time for the temple.

After his words of love, his confession clearing some tension between them, there was a chance Keyain would understand.

“I know that you love me,” she admitted, and Keyain took her hand in his own.

“And I know you would protect me against anything, but you aren’t listening, Keyain. ”

His thumb brushed across her knuckles, his smile faltering. “I always listen to you.”

She sighed, closing her eyes. “You listen, but you don’t understand. So, please, truly try to hear what I’m saying.” She opened her eyes, meeting Keyain’s gaze. “You can’t decide everything for me. If I say I need something, then you should help me get it, not choose if it’s a need or not.”

“But you don’t understand Satiros or how this court works,” he whispered. “You don’t realize what it’s like.”

“How will I ever learn if I’m locked in here, isolated from everything?

” she said, pulling her hand from his grasp, but he gripped tighter.

“By keeping me confined, you choose what to tell me, only sharing information that is convenient for you. Like the law that allows anyone to visit the temples. The King told me.”

“Yes, that law allows anyone, under any circumstances, to visit the temples, but it doesn’t protect you from being attacked.” Each word came faster than the last. “If I lost you, if you ended up like those other pilinos—” His voice cracked as panic set in his eyes.

“Then it’s your job to help get me there safely, not lie to me and forbid me from going.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“What isn’t simple, Keyain?” She sat up, staring at Keyain with a grimace.

He ground his jaw, rolling onto his back, and his eyes searched the bed’s canopy.

“These attacks started the week of the ball—after your first very public appearance.” He swallowed hard, averting his eyes.

“There are rumors that your presence inspired the foulest of the elven population to… to take action.”

Marietta felt gutted. As if everything up until then wasn’t awful enough, the guilt of those missing people tore into her chest. She blinked, stammering, at a loss for words as tears fell.

Keyain sat up, wrapping her into his embrace. Marietta didn’t fight it. Instead, she rested her head on his bare chest as he smoothed back her hair. “I know,” he said, his voice tight. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything—why I don’t want you in the public eye.”

“But it isn’t my fault, is it?” she asked, turning her face to Keyain.

He brushed back a lock that broke loose from the silk scarf covering her hair, his lips tugging into a deeper frown. “No, don’t go down that line of thinking, Mar.”

“But it is—”

“No,” he said, his eyes burning. “You are not responsible for their deaths; you have every right to be here as my wife, as a lady of the court.”

“But only elves serve on the court.”

“Not anymore,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“Your anger towards me for marrying you in secret is completely justified, but so is your presence at court. You are my wife, a half-elf, and you are a lady of Satiros. If the extremist used your existence as an excuse for vile deeds, then the blame is on them.” He cupped her face, his mouth set to a tight line.

“You have done nothing wrong. Your existence and your presence are not wrong.”

Marietta’s lips trembled. “I don’t belong here, Keyain, and you know it. That’s why you keep me locked away.”

He shook his head, nostrils flaring. “No, I keep you away from the Queen and King, from prying questions and eager eyes. You belong here, just as any wife of a lord.”

Keyain took a long breath, his eyes searching the room. “Tonight,” he whispered, “I’ll get you out for a walk. It’ll be short, but we can make them longer as the court adjusts to your presence.”

“You don’t have time for that, do you?” she asked, her voice bitter.

“I’ll make time,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I promise.”

Keyain left for the day, leaving Marietta alone once more. His promise meant nothing—not until it happened. Marietta knew not to get her hopes up as she readied herself for the day, as she absently flipped through the book, occasionally gazing out to the garden beyond.

And she knew that when she sat at the dining room table, waiting for Keyain to return for dinner, that it still didn’t mean the walk would happen.

He was busy, a minister overseeing an active war.

Yet it didn’t stop her disappointment when the meal arrived without Keyain, when the sun had set, and the sky grew dark.

She readied herself and got into bed, alone.

In the morning, he gave her his apology when the room was gray with the first morning light, promising to take her on a walk that evening. But Marietta didn’t see him again until the following morning, offering more apologies and more promises.

After a week of neglected promises, she steeled herself. No longer would she wait. If Marietta needed help, she’d have to rely on herself to get it. A week to the day of Keyain’s first promise, Marietta sent a note to Amryth.

She would leave that suite, whether Keyain knew it or not.