Page 80 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Fifty-Two

Valeriya

V aleriya traveled the streets of Satiros, the city’s alleyways and buildings growing narrower, the rooftops rising higher as she journeyed into Rambler Grove.

The district was more like its nickname—The Weeds.

Scraggly, with tall, spindly buildings made of whatever material was available.

Life bloomed from every nook and cranny, be it a well-planned space for housing or dense urban gardens for its denizens.

The resilient residences proved they could grow anywhere and through anything.

What started as a mocking name for the district became a symbol.

When Valeriya arrived in Satiros—two weeks before her public arrival date—she snuck into the city disguised.

Disgusted, she found The Weeds and its dense living conditions.

Over the past seven years, she had visited a handful of times per month to support the pilinos businesses in the district.

Not all battles were fought with magic and swords.

By stealing the crown’s coin, she funded the district.

When her and her sister’s plan came to fruition, the pilinos would need resources to help uplift themselves; otherwise, wealth could keep them trapped in a status below the elven.

In a different form from her other trips into the city, she donned the visage of an older half-elven female she knew in Reyila.

Gray marred her temples, magic shifting her body to look curvy, and she wore the plain face of the steward of Reyila’s castle.

By rotating who she appeared as in The Weeds, she minimized the risk of people recognizing her and asking too many questions.

While the rest of Satiros was beautiful, she admired the practical aesthetic of the district, where they left no space unused.

They turned parks into community food gardens a few years back, thanks to Valeriya’s anonymous donation.

With the food prices marked up for pilinos and less lucrative careers, many couldn’t purchase the nutrition they needed.

The ever-growing refugee numbers didn’t help with the shortage of food and space.

Over the past couple of years, the population grew by a third, making the already limited area tighter.

With every donation Valeriya made, she hoped to give them a chance to thrive in Satiros, to set them up for the future.

A few people nodded their heads at Valeriya as she wound through the packed streets, thankful the cloud cover snuffed the sun’s heat. Even with the shade, sweat layered Valeriya’s skin. Not much further was her first stop—the refugee intake building.

A human boy with a crop of curly brown hair almost ran into Valeriya, but she dodged his clumsy movements. He offered a quick apology before darting down an alley. She could only smile. To give such a boy the freedom to be careless was worth every risk.

With each visit, The Weeds’ denizens reminded her more of Reyila.

Her heart longed to show Katya what she accomplished in her short time in Satiros, wishing to hear her husky voice encourage her to keep going.

After killing those males, she wanted Katya’s assurance that she was on the right path.

Perhaps Valeriya should just message her, though they promised to cut off their relationship.

Would she want to speak with Valeriya? Would she still care?

Occasionally through magic, she received a message from Nystanya, brief words exchanged between the two. Her sister was proud, saying that Valeriya had to continue working with Chorys Dasi and change would come; it was only a matter of time. All she could do was listen and hold her head high.

Valeriya arrived outside a brown brick building that sat at the center of The Weeds, deep within the district and away from elven eyes.

When she entered, she met the tired stares of dirt-covered refugees.

A young half-elven girl was sniffling next to her human mother, who tried to hush the girl.

A half-elf in a white vest made their way to each refugee, taking their name and statement.

Another handed out food and water to the small group that occupied the space.

“I have a donation to drop off,” Valeriya said to the half-elf with the clipboard.

The round-faced female spared her a glance. “Go on back. Lily will help you.”

Valeriya offered her thanks, stepping through a narrow doorway into a makeshift storage room beyond.

A small human female barked orders at two males as they arranged care kits for the refugees.

“No, no—that pack is for the mother and daughter. This one is for the old man,” she snapped, earning a glower from one of the males.

“Are you Lily?” Valeriya removed a canvas knapsack from her back.

“Aye, I am. What do you want?”

Valeriya hid the smile tugging at her lips.

Such anger and petulance wouldn’t be possible for someone like her anywhere else in Syllogi.

“Food donation,” she said, handing over her pack filled to the brim with loaves of bread and hard cheeses.

At her waist, she removed a heavy coin purse. “And a monetary donation.”

Lily gave her an uneasy look, taking both bags.

She glanced at the food and handed it to one of the males.

“Distribute this among the current kits.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the coin purse.

The bag slipped from her hands as she looked inside.

Valeriya caught the bag before it hit the floor, only a few gold coins getting loose.

“That… that’s at least five hundred gold.” Lily’s jaw went slack, the males whipping their heads in their direction.

“Five hundred and fifty, to be exact,” Valeriya said with a smile. That haul was the largest sum she had swiped from the royal coffers, and only half of what she took this time. “All to provide refugees with the room, food, and clothing they need to get off their feet.”

“But how?” Lily said, taking the bag back and shaking her head. “This is more than any single half-elf can make, even in Satiros.”

“The fewer questions you ask, the better.” Valeriya offered a sincere smile. “Not stolen, but a blessing, if you will.”

“Gods must bless us on this day,” Lily said, running a hand through her ash blonde hair. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Consider it an anonymous donation.”

Lily glanced at Valeriya, then back at the gold and the food. “Well, it’s appreciated. With so many refugees arriving every week, we’ve been running low on supplies.” The coin jingled as she shook the bag. “This will make an immense difference. From all of us, thank you.”

“Just trying to help,” Valeriya said, turning to leave. By helping, she ensured the future for them all in Satiros—ensured her legacy as the Queen who reformed the city-state.

With a light heart, Valeriya strode through the city streets to her next destination. Clustered in groups off to the side of the main walkway, she gleaned information from conversations.

“It has to be a hoax. Is she really a half-elf?” someone said.

“Yes! From Enomenos, married to Minister Keyain,” their friend answered.

“No, it’s a lie. She’s just an elf with odd ears, not half-elven.”

“Well, I heard it from an elf who worked in the palace. They said she even knew how to bake in the kitchens!”

Valeriya felt a smile tug on her lips as she paused. “She’s real. Lady Marietta was a baker in Enomenos.” The two half-elves gawked at her as she strode away.

“But what does that mean for us?” the one asked excitedly.

That was why Marietta needed to be protected.

Of course, her life mattered, as did her well-being.

However, her proximity to Keyain’s information made her a useful ally, and more importantly, she sent a message.

A high-ranking member of Satiros’ court married a half-elf.

Whether Keyain realized it or not, he was starting a revolution.

Plus, Marietta was a calming presence among the disappearing pilinos.

Four more bodies were found, the latest one being a human male with clip carved across his forehead, left to bake in the sun on the shore of the Halia with his body mangled and deprived of clothing.

At least no more pilinos had gone missing since.

Marietta’s presence distracted them, gave them hope despite the horror that threatened them. In The Weeds, they would come to learn Marietta’s name for the change she represented. Valeriya would be the Queen who accepted her, gave her a place among the nobles. Yes, Marietta’s life mattered to many.

The streets thinned out as she neared the edge of the district where it bordered Wooded Ward. Valeriya approached one of the few opened buildings. The sign above the door read “ District Delegations .” The room beyond was expensive for The Weeds but drab for elsewhere in Satiros.

Rich brown wainscoting made of wood covered the lower half of the wall, the top covered in white wallpaper painted with green vines.

In a frame on the wall hung the Satiroan crest, two down-turned purple wisteria blooms curving into one another with the city’s motto, “ Ever Blooming .” Its presence was mocking.

The crown didn’t care about The Weeds or its denizens, at least, not beyond the service they provided to the elven population.

Valeriya passed a few open doorways where males and females talked in hushed voices in parlors. Coming to a door at the end of the hall, she knocked twice.

“Come in,” called a voice.

Inside, Valeriya found the lead district delegate of The Weeds.

A squat half-elven man with thinning, mousy brown hair and a pair of spectacles resting at the bottom of this bulbous nose.

He looked up at Valeriya from his papers.

“Ah, you,” he said, sitting back in the chair with a smile.

“It’s been a while since your last visit, Blythe. ”

The name she used from her previous visit took her by surprise for a moment, but she recovered.

“It has, Alderan. I see you spent my donation wisely; the streets are looking immaculate.” Everyone knew of the district’s frustrating potholes.

With horses prohibited in the city and the lack of magical equipment available to pilinos, the last issue they needed was pocked dirt roads to pull their carts.

“Things have been smooth, so to say.”

Valeriya chuckled, but realized the male didn’t mean it as a joke. Covering the laugh with a cough, she added, “Well, I’m glad to hear it.” She strode toward his faded wood desk with another coin purse in her hand. “And the education funds? How are those holding up?”

“Not well,” he said, rubbing the stubble forming on his pointed chin. “For a while, we had enough to keep each child supplied with materials, but with the increase in refugees, the budget is tight.”

“That’s why I made my last donation. I thought it’d help for the foreseeable future.” The fact the money hadn’t gone as far was troubling.

“None of us foresaw a half-elven lady in court,” he said with a tired smile. “The number of refugees over the past months has spiked. Many believe life in Satiros is about to change for pilinos, despite recent events.” His tired smile faded.

Curious, Marietta’s reputation has already made its way to the poorest populations in Syllogi. “Do you not think change is coming?”

Alderan let out a long breath. “A younger version of me would have said yes, but I know better now. Between the war and the missing pilinos….” He paused a moment, rubbing the small circular pendant hanging on his neck.

“To me, the half-elven lady’s presence is more of a warning to Enomenos—that they’ll steal their loved ones if they fight back, that they’ll turn to violence to keep us suppressed. ”

If Valeriya were a betting female, she knew what that pendant symbolized—and why he said loved ones . Alderan was Exisotis.

“Perhaps they intended her to be a warning,” Valeriya said, smirking, “but we can also decide what her presence means, regardless of who died for her to be in Satiros.”

Alderan blinked, realization coming to his features that she referred to Tilan Reid, which was the confirmation she needed. The Exisotis infiltrated the lower governments of Satiros. That information would be useful for her sister.

“Who are you exactly, Blythe?”

“I am who I need to be,” Valeriya said, lifting the coins. “Which right now is the funder of The Weeds’ educational system.” She tossed the bag onto his desk.

With an uneasy glance, Alderan opened it, shaking his head. “Once again, you come when I need you most, so who am I to ask questions?” He laughed and pulled the strings tight. “I don’t know who you are, but it seems we keep like company.”

“Like enough,” Valeriya said, smiling. “All children deserve proper education.” She turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. “And they will need that education for the future. Change is coming, Alderan. Let’s make sure your district is ready for it.”