Page 6 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

“This ale,” she said as she gestured to their mugs, “was brewed in Rotamu—a connection I made between the tavern owner to the brewer a few years back. The owner wanted a maltier, medium-bodied ale with caramel undertones, so I found him a brewer who could supply it.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone doing such a job for a living.” Keyain looked at her a moment before he continued. “How does anyone even start something like that?”

“For one, you have to be good with people.” Marietta leaned forward with a smirk.

“Second, I started working at a general store when I was a teenager. I excelled at both. When the owner opened a second location, I was the one to manage it. Only took two months for me to make it more profitable than the original store.”

Keyain raised his brows. “Impressive,” he said, his body holding the casual confidence of someone who knew how to talk to people and was sure of every word that came from his mouth.

“But why didn’t you open a shop? That would’ve been easier than traveling and growing other people’s businesses.

” His undivided attention drew a smile from Marietta as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“And live a boring life tied to one place? No, thank you.” Her hand batted away the thought.

“Plus, I get to meet different people. It’s wonderful what you can learn about someone when you introduce yourself.

With every new person I meet, I feel more complete.

Even with….” She gestured to Alyck as he finished chugging his second mug, rolling her eyes as he waved at the barmaid again.

At the rate of his drinking, a third ale most definitely would have still been cold.

Keyain sighed, giving his friend a look. “He’s an interesting person. How long have you been working like that?”

“Six years this past fall,” she said without missing a beat. “Expanding from just Kentro to the other city-states in just a couple of years, but enough about me. What are two Syllogian elves doing in Kentro?”

Keyain shifted in his seat, shooting a glance at Alyck, who watched a new group of women walk into the bar. “Oh, just traveling. Checking in on friends living here with Alyck. So I often visit around Enomenos.”

Marietta rested her chin on her hand as she regarded the elven man. Her mouth curved into a smile while her brows furrowed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but even coming from a guy who looks like—“she gestured at Keyain with her other hand “—that sounds disreputable. Is it drugs or contraband?”

A quick laugh left his mouth as he glanced at his drink. “Nothing like that. I’m just a private male; my business stays close to my chest. Even if the person asking is an accomplished female who looks like,” he took his hand and gestured at Marietta in the same way.

She smirked as a blush crept across his cheeks. Such bashfulness surprised her for the hardened man he appeared to be. She could have fun with that.

“Okay, but I have to ask,” Alyck said, his fist pounding against his chest for a burp. “You’re curvy and got a cute face. What’s your situation? Got someone waiting for you at home?”

Marietta angled her head, narrowing her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Really?” Keyain shot him a warning look.

“I mean, come on, Keyain. Is she not attractive?” Alyck gestured to her with his new mug of ale, the contents sloshing onto the table.

Marietta finished her mug and sat back in her seat. Demeaning comments from men weren’t an unknown occurrence, yet Alyck’s words vexed her, containing the subtlety of a rock smashing through a window.

Keyain ran his hand through his hair. “I mean, yes, obviously.”

“I’d fuck her even if she is a clip.” Alyck laughed while sloshing his drink down his front.

Marietta turned toward Keyain, her eyes wide from the slur.

She knew Alyck was an ass, but to call her a clip outright was beyond inappropriate.

Derived from a Syllogian elf’s fear of being mistaken for a pilinos, having clipped ears like a human or half-elf was the worst thing they could imagine.

She bit down the anger brewing in her gut.

“Fitting right into the Syllogian stereotype.” Marietta stood, glaring over her shoulder.

“Someone will be up in a moment to kick you out.”

It took little to rattle Marietta, but it took a lot to make her heated, and Alyck had the right mix of words that would piss her off. Marietta didn’t glance back as she strode towards the stairs.

“Well, I’ll be damned—her ass is perfect!

” Alyck yelled. Keyain’s heated response was inaudible as she reached the top with clenched fists.

It took one prick like Alyck to give elves a poor reputation in Enomenos.

There was no physical difference between the Enomenoan elves and the scum elves from Syllogi, which often meant the elves from Enomenos faced unprecedented hate, more so in the human-dominated countryside.

Marietta told the barkeep about the men upstairs, adding the comments Alyck made. The barkeep’s expression darkened as he sent up the bodyguard that worked for the Drunken Drought.

Someone called after Marietta as she left the tavern. The evening turned her mood foul, and she didn’t want anyone to see her so agitated. She wished to crawl into her bed with a book and forget about the evening.

The night’s chill greeted her as she exited the tavern, avoiding the slush puddles that formed in the city streets.

The thick wool cloak swathing her body compensated for the thin silk blouse she wore for the meeting.

Her outfit may have looked the part of a successful and experienced woman but failed to keep her warm in the wintry night.

A white cloud blew from her mouth with a heavy sigh. Marietta shouldn’t have met with a Syllogian elf. She knew what they were like, how they mistreated pilinos in their city-states. Did she expect Alyck not to bring his views to Enomenos?

Marietta wound her way through the city streets and, out of habit, she walked through the business district, now empty for the night.

The gas lamps that lined it remained dark at that hour.

Of course, Alyck wanted to meet in the evening—just so he and Keyain could prey on drunken women.

Typical Syllogian elves. The Drunken Draught would ban the bastards.

No business needed that malevolence in their establishment.

The smack of footfalls surprised her as cold metal bit at her throat, putrid breath filling her nose. Marietta gasped as she clawed her way out, nails tearing into flesh. The metal dug into her skin as a deep voice whispered, “Quiet, pretty.”

He jerked her back, dragging her towards a dark alley.

Marietta’s eyes scoured the dark street to find it void of people.

In her panic, her foot swung out under the attacker’s leg, causing him to lose grip on her.

She pushed him back and turned to run away, but she slipped on the wet cobblestone.

His hand caught her hair and pulled her backward as she screamed with her heart pounding in her ears.

Another set of footfalls thundered, followed by a loud smack behind her, and she broke free from his grasp. Marietta crawled through the dirtied slush of the street, panting and her mouth dry. She turned, finding Keyain punching her assailant with his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Keyain’s fist ceased when the assailant stopped moving, his hand coated in blood and his face splattered with it.

Marietta’s eyes widened. Was the man dead or just unconscious?

The alley’s darkness obscured his features, and she could only see his stilled form.

She focused on Keyain’s face, the blood splatter adding to his freckles.

“Are you okay?” He offered his unbloodied hand to help her up.

Her body trembled on the ground, her mouth unable to speak, but she nodded her head.

“Come on. Let’s get off this street. Where are you staying?” He helped her stand and placed a hand on her lower back, guiding the still-shocked Marietta towards the light.

The keys shook in Marietta’s hand as she unlocked the door to her apartment, Keyain standing at her side.

It was foolish to invite a stranger into her home, yet she couldn’t shake the sensation of the knife at her throat or the fear of being dragged into an alley.

Sure, he had an ass for a friend, but he had saved her, hadn’t he?

That had to mean something. Plus, the elven man would be a good distraction and a comfort. He was alluring, among other things.

“This is it,” she said, nodding to the studio apartment that was hardly a home. She unclasped her cloak and tossed it next to her travel bag, half-packed with its contents strewn across the couch.

The room became visible as she lit an oil lamp.

Keyain raised a speculative brow at the tiny room.

His gaze missed nothing as it scoured the apartment from the two-seater couch to the single chair at a small table next to her few cabinets that counted as a kitchen.

He tilted his head curiously at the bed placed near the window.

Next to it sat a stack of books acting as a nightstand. “It’s… quaint. And lovely.”

Marietta laughed, making quick work of her boots before dropping them beside the door. “It’s a shit hole,” she said, pointing to the water-stained plaster just above her.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Then you need your eyes checked,” she said, turning to face him with her hands planted on her hips.

He rubbed the nape of his neck, hesitating. “I mean, I would expect a successful businesswoman to live somewhere a little more….”

“Extravagant?”

“I was going to say clean, but sure. Extravagant.”