Page 112 of A Queen's Game
“Keyain!” She stood up, startling him, and seethed as she walked to the door. “You have to let me do things my way.”
“Of all the ways you’ve changed, why couldn’t your stubbornness have been one of them?” he snapped, following her out. “There are people in the city who want to hurt you.”
Marietta turned to him, exasperated. “I’m sure there are people in the palace who wish to hurt me, too! You are more than welcomed to escort me yourself.”
“You know I don’t—”
“Have the time, yes, I know,” Marietta said, brushing him off and walking to the front door. She opened it to find Amryth standing with her hands behind her back, face unimpressed, with four other guards.
Much to Marietta’s displeasure, Keyain stood behind her with his hand clamped onto her shoulder. “If any of you fail to protect Marietta, consider yourselves demoted.”
“Keyain, I swear to gods!” She turned to him, incredulous. “You picked these guards yourself!”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing,” she said, stepping out into the hall. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Marietta, wait.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, pausing her steps. “Can I please leave?”
Keyain turned her around, cupping his large hand to her cheek as his thumb brushed across it. “I love you. Please, besafe.” He kissed her forehead before she jerked away, leaving him behind.
What right did he have to be this nervous? Yes, pilinos had disappeared from the streets, but not in the morning, and not when they were walking to a temple. Of all the ways Keyain could act, a simpering anxious husband was by far his worst. The sooner she got away from him, the better.
Marietta already felt on edge after a week of his coddling. Where was this caring when she refused to speak? When she didn’t want to live? Of course, the only thing that had changed was her trip to the temple and the King’s attention. Marietta didn’t doubt that King Wyltam talked with him about the temple, about all the guards dispatched to find her. It probably sparked his need to overdo the protective husband act.
Over the past week, ever since the temple incident, he grew more irksome to be near. Dinners were the worst where Marietta listened to him drone about court this, guards that. It was almost as if he wanted her to take the King’s offer, which sounded better each day. If King Wyltam sparked Keyain’s jealousy, how much worse would his coddling get? No, accepting the King’s flirtations made Keyain miserable—which would only make her more miserable.
On the streets of Satiros, Amryth nudged her, shaking Marietta out of her thoughts. She pointed to a small park across from the palace, where cypress and wisteria fought for coverage and a statue of a creature sprouted. Though they didn’t stop, Marietta could make out the head and wings of an eagle, spread tall and wide.
If she were free, if she had a say in what she could do, Marietta would inspect every inch of the city-state. Each statue drew her eyes, and the businesses beckoned her to visit their storefronts and meet the owners; yet Keyain’s guards remainedclose and ushered her towards the temple, not stopping to examine the colorful array from the other places of worship.
The guards waited at the bottom step when they arrived, opting to keep an eye outside. Marietta hooked her arm through Amryth’s and ascended the temple stairs.
The inside was quiet as they entered, with fewer worshipers milling about in the early morning. As they walked into the chapel, Deania, the tiny half-elven woman from her last visit, was whispering to a few other attendants, her face taut with worry.
“Go ahead without me,” Amryth said, gesturing to the benches. “I’m going to check in with Deania.”
She kept her eye on the group as Amryth approached, watching as they glanced over at Marietta and walked back down the hall. Alone, Marietta sat on the bench, staring up at the goddess’ statue. Her outstretched hand remained devoid of supplicants, and Marietta felt the temptation to kneel in it. Odd. Why would she? Marietta was just there to pray, to get away from the palace and Keyain. The temple was her peppermint-and-eucalyptus-scented sanctuary, where she could sit and feel free for a while. No lord or royal breathed down her neck, just her in the serenity of the empty chapel.
With her eyes closed, palms facing towards the ceiling, Marietta let her mind wander. In the quiet, she thought of Tilan, of his crinkled eyes and dark hair fraying from its tie. Of his laugh, his smile, his creations. The things she loved of her husband only existed in her mind, and though they threatened to crush her very being to think of, she’d rather risk the pain than let them die with her memory.
She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat and was thankful no one was around to hear her sniff back her tears. For him, she would persist. For Tilan, she chose to live, so the memory of him could live on.
Her watery eyes cracked open, the tears distorting the face of the goddess as she watched. A sudden warmth began to grow in her chest as if she drank hot tea on a cold winter afternoon. It was surprising, yet comforting, and she welcomed the sensation. Marietta closed her eyes and leaned into the warmth.
The world slipped away from her, no longer feeling the bench beneath her or the ambient noise from the temple. Only the scent lingered. It jogged a memory of days with her mother as a child. The markets in Kentro they had shopped at, with Marietta clasping her hand as they had perused the herbalist stalls.
She took a deep breath, imagining her mother hugging her, the warmth of her body so close. One day, she would do so again. With another breath, Marietta relaxed her shoulders more, letting the warmth in her chest flood her body.
When she opened her eyes, she stood in the backyard of her parents’ newer home in Notos. The smell of basil, rosemary, sage, and thyme floated through the air from her mother’s herb garden. The sky was bright blue with hazy white clouds drifting by, offering little shade from the sun, yet she didn’t feel its burn on her skin. She tried to call to her parents in the house, but it was fuzzy, out of focus, as was everything beyond her immediate vicinity.
“Hello, child,”a warm, earthy voice said within her.
Marietta blinked, and the goddess from the statue appeared before her. Therypon. Dark, onyx skin glowed in the sun, her sharp, high cheekbones catching the light. Her eyes were black in the center, large and round, reminding Marietta of a doe with the way they glistened.
“What is this?” Marietta said to her, her voice an echo in her head.
