Page 70 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Forty-Five

Valeriya

T he guards had said the scene was gruesome, too terrible to disclose the details; yet they did anyway.

Valeriya had listened as they described the body behind the Temple of Therypon: a female half-elf, the body mutilated with ‘clip’ carved into her forehead.

Anger and guilt wove through her stomach, blanketing her in shame.

Either the males she killed hadn’t been the murderers, or the one she left alive got away.

Did they ever question him? Did they have any suspects at all?

Perhaps Wyltam had answers. If she were lucky, he’d feel like sharing them with her. However, he summoned her, and likely he had his own agenda that had nothing to do with the welfare of their people.

Mid-summer approached with the heat of the season upon them, and Valeriya walked into the shared living space to find Wyltam sitting before a fire.

She suppressed her scoff as he lounged in the chair with one leg down, the other tucked to his chest and his chin propped up by his fist. It wasn’t enough that his posture was unkingly, but his black hair hung in his face, too.

“Husband,” she said, taking the seat across from Wyltam.

As the heat of the fireplace rolled off, droplets of sweat formed on Valeriya underneath her long-sleeved and high-neck dress.

Bruises covered her chest and ribcage from her fight in the alley.

They grew too dark to be covered with makeup and maintaining the magic to cover them would grow tiring.

“Your taste in clothing has been interesting as of late,” Wyltam drawled, staring into the flames in the hearth. His air of disinterest, even when probing her with his suspicions, was immaculate. Though he asked her to join him, she was still not worth his time.

A sigh escaped her mouth as she crossed her arms, patience already wearing thin.

“Was there anything specific you wanted, or are you just sharing your opinion on seasonal fashion?” Tiredness ebbed her mood, making her short when she should have bitten her tongue.

By the subtle smirk that came to his face, he knew he’d gotten under her skin already.

“Do I need a reason to spend time with my wife?”

He was toying with her. After she deemed the question unworthy of an answer, Wyltam chuckled and shifted in his seat. “What do you think of Marietta?”

Valeriya rubbed her temples, rubbing the tension that built in her skull. “She’s innocent and ill-prepared for court life. Perhaps Keyain should have never brought her here.”

“You think that? What should he have done with her?” Wyltam inspected his tunic as he spoke, not looking in her direction.

“Locked her up in his manor on his lands or left her with the Exisotis. At least she was ignorant of who they were and who she married.”

Wyltam’s gaze slid to her, his eyes narrowing. “When did you talk to her about that?”

Shit, her contact gave her that information, the realization causing her stomach to drop. Wyltam would have never told her that. “Oh, I didn’t. Marietta mentioned Keyain told her, and we talked about it over tea. The poor girl was so shaken. No wonder she let herself rot away in that suite.”

For a moment, he stared at her, his fingers tapping on the armrest of his chair. As always, his expression remained blank, hard to read, as if she were staring at a wall. “It seems Keyain makes for a poor husband. Marietta looked worse than I expected.”

Valeriya agreed with his observation, but would never admit they agreed on anything. “How are you handling Keyain having a wife?” she asked. The question seemed innocent, but Wyltam stiffened in his chair.

“What are you insinuating?”

With a shrug, she glowered at her husband. “I’m sure the entire situation has been hard. After all, you two used to be so close.”

Knowing his full past, close was only one way to describe their relationship. Never had she brought it up so boldly with him. The thought of Wyltam and Keyain together was laughable. How could they work together after all the drama?

“And what of Marietta? You have a soft spot for half-elf females, do you not?” he asked.

Katya. How did he know about her? Valeriya forced her body to still, not reacting to his question.

Another chuckle came from her husband. “Perhaps we perform our marriage duties tonight to solve our wayward thoughts. Mycaub would be a wonderful older brother, would he not?” Rage flared in Valeriya as Wyltam cut her a glare. “Go ahead, take off your dress, Valeriya. Let’s see what you’re hiding.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, checking her anger.

Their relationship was never physical, only necessary to reproduce an heir to the throne.

The experience had been the final rift in their already-distant relationship.

Before Mycaub, they were just two strangers married to one another.

After two years of trying, they became people who detested the other’s body.

Even the scent of Wyltam was enough to churn her stomach.

Valeriya wanted to blame their relationship strains on that alone, but the divide between them was present from the beginning. She hated him and he hated her.

With a wave of a hand, his stare deep into the flames, he said, “You’re dismissed.”