Page 95 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)
She nodded, holding her breath as he tucked the flower behind her ear. “And how does it look?”
“Unbelievable,” he whispered.
She snorted with a laugh. “How could a flower behind my ear look unbelievable?” With her back to the King, she bent down to examine the tail of the statue. “And you never told me what this statue was.”
“A forest drakon.” She jumped, not hearing the King approach. As she turned to him, his hand found hers.
Marietta made to pull away with a question, but the King’s awed expression made her pause.
“Keyain is beyond undeserving of you.”
She laughed nervously, avoiding his gaze. “Well, you know the truth of our situation.”
“But you don’t,” he said, stepping closer. “Keyain has robbed you of so many opportunities, of potential happiness. I can imagine it now, the woman who you would be without him.”
Her breath caught as he brought her hand to his lips, the space between them inappropriately close. “I was very much happy without him.”
The King’s stare fell to her lips, his free hand cupping her face. She leaned in, wishing to know how his lips would feel on hers.
Gods, he was the King—the enemy. The goddess had been clear: if the King knew she was an Iros, he could kill her. Kissing him wouldn’t help any of the mess she was in. Marietta pulled away as his lips were about to brush against her own. “We are both married. Such action is beyond inappropriate.”
The King pulled back, his emotion slipping under his expressionless mask. “And if we’re both in marriages that makes us unhappy? If my wife finds me unappealing for more than just personal reasons?”
“It’s still wrong,” she said, savoring the grip of his hand.
The King gave a small, dry laugh. “Valeriya doesn’t even like males.”
Marietta blinked, his words registering. “What a sad life you both must live. I can’t imagine bonding myself to someone who could never want me.”
“And here I consider your situation sadder,” he said. “To be forced into a marriage without choice or knowledge.”
Marietta grimaced, slipping her hand from his. “Says the man who upholds the law allowing it.”
“And if I were to annul your marriage?” he asked. “Is that what it takes to make you happy?”
“No,” she said, turning back to the statue. “I want independence, freedom.” And revenge.
“And if I could give you that? All that and more?”
She turned her head back towards the King. “And what freedom would I have? Could I just return to Enomenos amidst your war?” She shook her head. “Enough of this.”
Once more, the statue pulled her attention, walking through the flowers to inspect each angle. When she gained sight of the path back to the main walkway, the blonde guard stood at the entrance, arms crossed with a sneer on her face.
“Is there a problem, Adalyn?” the King asked, stopping behind Marietta.
“Not at all,” said the blonde, her voice rougher than Marietta expected. Her gaze raked between the two. “Keyain gave me special instructions to not let her—” she jerked her chin at Marietta “—out of my sight, no matter what orders.”
“Head back with the other guards,” the King demanded, his hand coming to rest on Marietta’s lower back.
Adalyn’s eyes shot to the movement. “Perhaps it’s best I stay. For Keyain’s interest, of course.”
Marietta fought the cringe that forced its way into her expression. Adalyn must be part of the Elite Guard, just like Amryth.
“Do not test me today, Adalyn,” the King said, a threat underlying his tone. “You’re a talented soldier but I will request Ryder for our next outing if this is how you behave.”
Adalyn’s sneer dropped to a look of annoyance, her eyes rolling with a sigh. “Yes, my King.” And with that, she turned and walked down the path.
“I knew she would follow.” The King walked past her, his stare focusing on the drakon statue. “She’ll tell Keyain about how we almost kissed, which plays into our deal.”
Marietta’s heart fumbled. How stupid of her to think he actually wanted a kiss. Gods, what was wrong with her?
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Of kissing you?”
The King smiled up at the statue, glancing back at her. “Of the statue.”
“Oh,” she said, fighting back her embarrassment. “Well, it’s fantastic. Everything is so lifelike, and when I placed my hand upon its side, it was as if it shifted.”
“Interesting,” he said, turning to her. “Do you believe in feyrie tales?”
“I would like to.” She paused, staring at him. “Do you?”
“All stories come from some truth.”
“And here I thought you were a sensible man.”
He laughed at that, a full smile touching his lips. “Come, there’s more to see.”
Each statue was as thrilling. A hydra with seven heads all tangled together. A couple of griffins, their eagle wings outstretched, beaks crying to the sky, resting on their lion hind legs.
One of the more fascinating statues was the tarandos.
The creature was new to Marietta, with its ox size, long hair, intricately curved antlers, and cloven hooves.
The King explained it was an herbivore that dwelled in dense forests, like the one that grew in the land Satiros came to occupy.
What Marietta found the most fascinating was its ability to camouflage itself by shapeshifting.
“Shapeshifters are common in feyrie tales,” Marietta told the King. “My father often told me stories around changelings and their ilk.”
“Odd, they weren’t that common.” The King stared at her with a frown. “Perhaps your father had some fascination with them.”
For a moment, Marietta felt a touch of anger in the King’s words.
It quickly passed as they stepped to the next statue, a sphinx.
With the head of a woman, the wings of a bird, and a body of a lion.
Her father shared the stories of such cunning creatures who would kill those who could not solve their riddles.
The morning slipped into the afternoon as they wove their way through the gardens. “It’s impressive how much you know,” Marietta noted. “Not only did you have a name for each statue’s creature, but you knew what they did.”
The King huffed a laugh. “You mock me.”
“Not at all.” Marietta searched his face, his gaze dropping from hers. “Your knowledge is fascinating. I could listen to you and your theories every day.”
“Then you’re kind-hearted,” he said. “Often I’m too analytical, too cold because I see the world as it is, for how it works.”
“And yet here you are, believing in feyrie tales.”
“As I said, there’s truth to every story.” He paused in the path, brushing a loose hair back from Marietta’s face though the guards approached. “And because I seek the truth, it’s seen as a distraction from my duties as king.”
Seek the truth. King Wyltam’s words brought forth an image of Therypon, the goddess’ orders. Heat flared in her chest at the thought. How likely was it that the King would say those exact words?
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said, letting the comparison slip away. “But are these feyrie tales why you ignore the living conditions of pilinos in Satiros? You’d rather explore that than change the laws that suppress people like me?”
The King’s features darkened, his stare fixed on the path ahead.
“Truth for a truth, King Wyltam,” she continued in his silence. “Tell me why you could defend me but not the pilinos population?”
“I think I’ll pass today,” he said, his movement becoming rigid as the guards assumed their proximity. “You’ve already shared all I wish to know.”
“Such a change in mood,” she said under her breath so the guards wouldn’t hear.
“Everyone has their reasons for their actions, Marietta,” he said under his breath. “Perhaps you understand less than you let on.”
“Perhaps I’d know more if I had my freedom.”
“Enough.” The commanding tone of his voice made Marietta clench her fists. “We’ve had such a lovely morning; no point in spoiling it now.”
Silence settled between them as they returned to the carriage, both remaining so for the ride back to the palace. After an enjoyable morning, the mood shift between them was nearly suffocating in the carriage. Marietta couldn’t wait to be free of his presence.
Sure, she wanted to know what it was like to kiss him, to feel his body against hers; but even with his apt knowledge of fey creatures and saying she’s too good for Keyain, the King was dangerous.
Yet, as she stared at the King pondering out the carriage window, she found her hate replaced with something else.
Something she wouldn’t dare name.