Page 74 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)
Chapter Forty-Eight
Marietta
M arietta cursed herself all morning after Keyain lingered in the suite, asking if she was sure she wanted to go on the carriage ride with the King.
With a lot of patience and Valeriya’s goal fresh on her mind, Marietta eased Keyain’s worrying.
And by that, it meant she kissed him on the cheek before he left, causing him to grin with a flush.
The action made her stomach churn. But she could do it, and she would, if only to watch Keyain’s face when he realized it wasn’t real. Gods, when did she become so cruel?
The carriage ride with the King posed a slight hiccup for her winning Keyain over, being that he had found out through King Wyltam that she had accepted his offer. When she sent her reply, she didn’t know Valeriya would appear in the wall to conspire against Keyain.
An entourage of guards escorted Marietta to the front of the palace, her curls loosened around her head. The fabric of her dress was soft and comfortable with slits in the legs, which she was thankful for when they stepped into the sun’s heat.
The driver hopped down from his perch, his skin dark and long black hair tied into a tail.
Without a word, he opened the door for Marietta, revealing the King sitting inside.
Ominous, he sat quietly, his gaze peering out the window.
Rocking the carriage, the guards climbed into position on the outside.
Marietta took a seat as they rolled forward, startling her.
There wasn’t a jerk of motion like with horses.
“Magic,” the King said in his deep voice, his dark eyes now observing Marietta.
“Excuse me, King Wyltam?” Marietta held back her attitude at his lack of greeting.
“Magic propels the carriage. The driver is a mage.”
Marietta glanced towards the cab wall where the driver sat on the outside. “So there are no horses, Your Grace.”
“None in the city, at least.”
She shrugged, taking her first good look at the King.
His shirt was of black silk, the neckline showing a bit of his chest. Nestled in his dark hair was the thin crown of gold.
“Must be nice, not having to dodge horse sh—” Marietta bit her lip, stopping herself from finishing the sentence.
She was with the gods damned King, and she was talking about horse shit.
What was wrong with her? “Your Grace,” she added, averting her eyes.
One side of his mouth twitched with amusement. “For those who walk the streets, I’m sure it’s a pleasant feature of our city-state.”
A minute passed where neither spoke. Apparently, a tour of the city was visual, not verbal. She stared out the window at the rows of plain white buildings and their black roofs. The only source of color came from the plants that blossomed on most of them.
Marietta glanced back at the King, who watched her with an expressionless gaze. Hating the silence, Marietta asked, “What is this part of the city called, Your Grace?”
“Petal Row,” he answered, looking out the window. “The district is known for its entertainment. Taverns, theaters, museums, gardens, and more occupy the area. When the city was founded, our oldest tavern, The Lily Pad, was the only business in the district. Throughout the….”
Gods, it was as if he read from a history book.
Not realizing the verbal tour would feel like a lecture, Marietta nodded, focusing on every other word as she viewed the people on the street.
All elven, all in fine clothing. Though she shouldn’t be surprised by it, she felt crestfallen by the lack of pilinos.
As they neared a bridge, Marietta perked up.
“This is Bellflower Bridge. Built in….”
She sunk back into her seat. Perhaps this was a mistake.
“After we cross Bellflower Bridge, we enter Greening Juncture, known for its—” The King paused as she stifled her yawn. “Apologies, Marietta. Am I boring you?”
Marietta searched his face for annoyance but found the same icy expression. “I should be the one to apologize, Your Grace,” she said with a tight smile. “This is just different from my expectations.”
“How so?”
“You sound rehearsed. Like you’re reading it from a history book.”
“Well,” he said, gesturing out the window, “it is our history.”
“How about you share one fun fact with me?” she asked, giving a polite smile. “Something not so… from a book.”
The King gazed off to the side, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought.
Just as Marietta was about to speak again, he broke the silence.
“Wisteria is not native to Satiros. Instead, it was transplanted here and cultivated during my great-grandfather’s reign.
His wife, native to the lands across the Dyreste Mountains, brought it as a wedding present.
Since then, it became popular within the city-state and eventually became the city’s crest.”
Marietta blinked at him. “How is that a fun fact?”
“All facts are fun.”
Marietta tried to hold back her laugh but failed. The King cracked a smile, the sight odd on such a usually cold face. It almost made him approachable.
“I’m guessing you aren’t one for reading and research,” he said, meeting her gaze.
“Oh, I enjoy reading, just not history books.” Unless there was history in the dirty books she often swapped with her friends in Olkia.
“Then which types of books do you enjoy?” he asked. “Adventure?”
Marietta bit her lip, nodding. “Yes, adventure. But what do you think of your city-state?” she asked, eager to change the subject.
“You want to know what I think of Satiros?”
“I do. I’m curious what your favorite places are, the type of people the King busies himself with.” She leaned on her hand, her arm propped up by the window of the carriage.
The King nodded, his gaze shifting to the city. Marietta waited in silent fascination as he thought of an answer. The silence would grow irksome normally, but he gave her question some thought. How was that man best friends with Keyain?
“Though I’m not one to venture in public often,” he said, his eyes shifting back to Marietta, “I would say my favorite place is the Ertwyrmer Sculpture Gardens. Most statues in the Central Garden are tame compared to some in the sculpture gardens.”
“I’d love to see them sometime,” Marietta said. “Are they as detailed as the ones in the palace?”
“They are,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “I could show you one day if you would like.”
“I hope you do.” She smiled at the King, at the idea of being outside the palace and finding more curious statues.
“The type of people I busy myself with are those in government positions,” he added. “And even that is too much.”
Her smile grew, realizing his quietness was not him uninterested in her but him being one to tire of people. “It seems you and I are opposites.”
“How so?”
“I love being around people and wish I knew more of your court and its people.” She leaned forward, her smile sharpening. “And you wish to be around none of them—to be alone.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Not at all.”
Her answer must have been the right one, for he smiled, his gaze locking on hers before staring out the window once more. “Just beyond Bellflower Bridge sits Birdsong Park, the largest park in the city-state proper. I would share a fact about the park, but I fear I’d bore you.”
Marietta shot him a smile, thankful he had a sense of humor about her not wanting a history lesson.
As they crossed over the Halia River, the park came into view.
The stonewall of the river’s shore lined one edge and the boulevard they traveled on lined another.
Trees of every kind canopied much of the walkways lined with bushes and other greenery.
On such a sunny day, a walk through a shady park would have been pleasant.
“I’d listen to every fact you had to share if we could see it up close. ”
“It would be too unsafe, given the current situation with the missing pilinos,” he said while shifting his left foot to the seat, his knee tucked close to his chest. “The view from the carriage must suffice.”
Marietta hid her growing smile. Such a casual posture didn’t suit someone in court, let alone a king. It was almost comforting, as if the formality wasn’t for him, either.
“A view from the carriage isn’t the same as experiencing it, you must admit.
The wind in your hair, the sound of rustling leaves—especially on a day like today.
” She shook her head. “It’d be wonderful.
Though my favorite thing to do in such a park is people watch—something I have done little of in the palace. ”
“Why is that?”
Marietta resisted rolling her eyes. “Keyain, mostly. But even when I walk through the Central Garden, most courtiers gawk at me. Makes it hard to watch someone when you have their full attention.”
The King huffed a dry laugh. “Unsurprising, but you misunderstood me. What’s enjoyable about people watching?”
“Oh,” Marietta said, surprised that he wished to know.
“Well, each person has their own story, their own way of viewing the world. Our unique experiences forge us into who we are.” She gazed out the window, getting one last glimpse of the park as they passed.
“I can’t help but wonder who strangers are. ”
White-washed brick gave way to multi-colored stone facades as they traveled into the next district. “I’ve never thought of it that way,” King Wyltam said, breaking the silence.
“When you view life as a puzzle and each person a piece of it, it’s hard to find the truth if you only see one side of a person.”
“How similar you and I are,” he mused, a smile hinting at his lips. “I also view life as a puzzle, but my pieces are what make the world function. Where do we come from? How does the world work?” He paused as if he was considering his words. “What is the source of aithyr?”