Page 78 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

King Wyltam halted on the veranda before the doors, turning to Marietta. “Did you not marry him by choice?”

Did he really not know? By some miracle, did Keyain not share that detail of their marriage? Her smile grew, realizing she could leverage that question with their deal. “Truth for a truth, King Wyltam?”

“Alright, truth for a truth. How did you and Keyain marry?”

“I believe the law is that an elf can marry a pilinos without their consent, is it not?” Resentment laced her narrowed glare and sharp tongue. Resentment for Syllogi, for Keyain marrying her without her consent, and for the laws that allowed it.

The King resumed walking, stepping into the garden’s path with his arm still locked on Marietta’s. “That is true. However, you’d have to be from Syllogi, which you are not.”

So Keyain lied on the marriage certificate, to make it seem like Marietta was from Syllogi, not Enomenos. How would that slip through? Though intrigued to know the answer, she held back her questions for the most urgent ones. “Why do you view pilinos as lesser people?”

The King raised a brow. “I do not view half-elves or humans as lesser people.”

Marietta tsked. “The deal was to answer truthfully.”

“I’m being truthful. I believe pilinos are as much of a person as any elf. However, those are the laws I inherited; I did not make them.”

“But you could reverse them.”

“Though I am king, I still answer to the people I rule.” Tiredness edged the inky black of his eyes, the dark circles underneath appearing darker.

“Many would revolt such a sweeping change. Gradual change is easier for people to handle, like adding a wider variety of city-states to ally with Satiros—city-states that have a different dynamic between elves and pilinos.”

“And how does attacking Olkia help you achieve that?” The question snapped out before she could stop herself.

“I believe it’s my turn to ask a question,” the King said, a bemused expression on his face. “How did you meet Keyain?”

Marietta exhaled through her nose, staring down at the King. She despised him for attacking her home, then having the nerve to look amused. She bit back her anger, answering the question. “Through work. Traveling through Enomenos on my own was dangerous, so I hired a bodyguard.”

“Do you expect me to believe that the Satiroan Minister of Protection was a bodyguard?”

A crooked smile twisted into her lips. “I believe it’s my turn to ask a question. Why did you attack Olkia?”

The King hesitated, leading Marietta further into the gardens, crossing a bridge that overran a creek.

For the slimmer frame of the King, it surprised Marietta that his arm underneath felt hard and lean.

Why would a king have muscle and then hide it?

Were his enemies that much of a threat? They would be if they were in the palace already.

“If I’m being honest with you—”

“Which you should be.”

The King leveled her with a cold stare. “Satiros seized Olkia for two reasons. One, to force the conversation between the Enomenoan governments and Satiros to become one entity. I have requested meetings from both local city-state governments and the Enomenos Unionization Council. No one was interested in our proposition.” The King glanced at her before continuing.

“Two, to find The Shepherd, leader of the Exisotis, or, at the very least, his family. Keyain searched for years to no avail.”

Marietta scoffed and pulled her arm from the King’s but his grip held. “Neither are good reasons to attack innocent people.”

The King stopped walking. “Where would you hear such a thing like that? Attacking innocent people?”

Under his cold, narrowed stare and the tightening grip on her arm, Marietta refused to cower, lifting her chin. “You slaughtered the people of Olkia, did you not?”

The King brought a hand to her chin, gripping it with gentle fingers. “Not your turn for a question, Marietta. Who told you that we slaughtered people? That we attacked innocents?”

Gods—the Queen did, but Marietta couldn’t share that. “Keyain,” she said without hesitation.

His grip tightened on her chin. “We agreed to share truths. Now tell me, who told you this?”

Marietta curled back her lips at the King, tugging away from his grip, glowering; yet he held true, staring at her through his emotionless mask.

It worried her to share the truth, that the King could discover that she and Valeriya were working with one another.

As he stared her into her face, she had little hope of sharing a convincing lie.

Reluctantly, she uttered, “Queen Valeriya.”

With a sneer, his grip loosened. “Of course. This is a court of lies, Marietta, and sitting at its center is my wife. I urge you to take her secrets with a grain of salt.”

Marietta exhaled at the King’s reaction.

He was used to Valeriya saying such information.

What did that mean for working with her?

Did she often reach out to members of the court and share her secrets?

Gods, likely not if she worked with the Exisotis.

King Wyltam couldn’t trust his wife, but Marietta could.

“Noted,” she said, tearing out of his grip.

To her dismay, he grabbed her hand. To more of her dismay, heat rushed to her cheeks as he stood closer to her.

“Your turn, Marietta.” His deep voice was just a murmur, eyes locking onto her lips.

Marietta tilted her head, confused by the sudden change in his tone.

The King lifted his other hand. “May I?”

She swallowed hard, nodding her head. Gods, she hated him. Hated his handsome face. Hated the way he made her heart skip a beat. King Wyltam was a monster, sinking in his claws. Part of her didn’t want him to let go.

“Why are you punishing Keyain?” she asked, her voice smaller than she’d hoped.

The gentle touch of his hand moved to her ear, tracing the stunted arch. King Wyltam leaned in. The breath on her ear made her want to push him away, made her want to pull him closer. The deep rumbling of his hushed voice nearly pushed her over the edge. “Because I loved him and he betrayed me.”

The King loved Keyain and was using her against him. Gods, what did she agree to?

He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, bringing her hand up to his mouth. “You are very beautiful, Marietta.”

She didn’t dare breathe as he kissed her knuckles, locking eyes with Marietta.

“Wyltam, what is this?” Keyain’s harsh voice sounded from down the path.

King Wyltam took a step back, Marietta catching the brief smirk that hinted on his lips. “Keyain, what a surprise.”

Marietta’s head jerked towards Keyain as her stomach dropped. Keyain stood on the path with two males, to whom he turned and dismissed before approaching with a burning glare.

“Marietta,” he ground out, “what happened to your trip to the library with Elyse?”

“It was cut short.”

“Yes,” King Wyltam drawled. “Elyse needed to return to work, so I offered to escort your wife. Is that a problem?”

Blood rose to Keyain’s face, and the muscles in his neck tightened. “Not at all, but I can take her from here.” He held out his hand like she was a dog. Marietta forced herself not to scowl.

The King’s hand landed on her shoulder. “That’s quite alright. I would love nothing more than to return Marietta to your suite,” he said, pausing as Keyain flared his nostrils. “Unless you want to take her back instead of focusing on your duties?”

That was the game. Not only was he flirting with Marietta to aggravate Keyain, but making him choose between his position and her. It was a cruel plan; one Marietta couldn’t help but envy the King for concocting.

“I have time before my next meeting. Come, Marietta.” A demand.

Perhaps it was a game for her, too—forcing her to keep up the charade of not wanting to be near the King and trusting Keyain. She wished to curse Keyain, yet her feet reluctantly walked towards him.

The King’s arm caught her, spinning her to face him again. He leaned in, whispering, “Our conversations stay between us.” Though his voice was soft, Marietta felt the threat underneath. “And though this isn’t an adventure book, I believe you’ll find a few of these chapters quite entertaining.”

Gods, he knew about the book. Marietta closed her eyes with a breath and snatched the book from the King’s outstretched hand.

He stepped away, a smirk breaking through his facade. “Go along. You’re dismissed.”