Page 142 of A Queen's Game
“Now.” A simple demand from her. It was all she had to say for Keyain to reach for his pants, hastily undoing them and tossing them over the edge. Careful of her ankle, he bent her legs, pushing them farther apart. He rubbed the length of himself against her, his gaze locked on to between her legs with furrowed brows and parted lips.
Without warning, he plunged into Marietta. She moaned from the pain—from the pleasure—mixed into one where she couldn’t tell where one started and the other ended. Keyain’s hand landed on her center, rubbing as he thrust. Her core tightened again, feeling the tension rise within her with each thrust, with each swirl of his finger.
He murmured to Marietta, his voice deep and breathless, but the words were lost to her. No, she wasn’t thinking about Keyain with her eyes closed. As much as she resisted, she only heard King Wyltam’s deep voice.You are very fun to tease.
It was the King she imagined on top of her, pleasuring her. The King was the one moaning her name. And when she crested again, the tension ripping through her with such intensity that her vision went white behind her lids, she clamped her lips together so she wouldn’t call out King Wyltam’s name.
Keyain lowered himself to be flush with her, his hips not missing a beat. He moaned in her ear, calling out her name. Marietta’s nails dug into his back as he finished, thrusting deep inside.
Still slick with sweat, Keyain rolled over, laying on his back next to Marietta as he panted. Marietta lay next to him with her stare fixed on the canopy of the bed, still shocked at what had happened.
Gods, why did she think of the King? What in all the hells was wrong with her? Stupid, he was no better than Keyain. No—he was worse. King Wyltam had the power to create change and enabled Keyain’s actions.
“Are you alright?” Keyain’s hand found hers, pulling it to him for a kiss.
She shook her thoughts, rolling onto her side to face him. Gods, don’t say the King—anything but that. Think of the plan. “I wish you spent more time with me.” The lie came smoothly and through Keyain’s post-sex haze, he didn’t seem to notice.
“I wish for that, too.”
“Can you promise then?” She rubbed her thumb against his hand. “Promise you’ll spend more time with me?” More time to win him over, to distract him.
“I would do anything for you, Mar.” The sincerity in his gaze with his words made guilt sit in her stomach like a rock.
After readying for bed, Keyain wrapped his arms around Marietta, sleep finding him quickly. She didn’t have such luck. Instead, her mind sifted through her troubling thoughts, of the King who had no business being stuck in her head. Why did she think of King Wyltam? Was it that she thought him more attractive? Was it because he was kind to her?
And then she realized, for all that she despised the King for his action and inaction in Satiros, Marietta still didn’t hate him as much as she hated Keyain.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Valeriya
Valeriya sat at a small desk in her room, lost in writing. A cool breeze blew through the open balcony doors, white gauzy curtains twirling. To ease her anxious thoughts, she wrote them down in a journal. In Satiros, she had no one to confide in; everyone was an enemy in her game. Only her written words relieved her of her thoughts. Sometimes she wondered what her life would have been if she was the eldest, if she were born the Queen of Reyila. As a princess, Valeriya had ample opportunities and was better off than almost anyone, but there was one thing she always wanted—her name immortalized through history.
Growing up, scholars taught her and her sister of the late Queens and Kings of Reyila, spanning thousands of years. The idea of not being forgotten by future generations was intoxicating, and Valeriya knew she had to do something to gain it. Her sister was handed such an opportunity; Valeriya made sacrifices for hers. Becoming Wyltam’s Queen Consort had been and continued to be difficult. Since the first day, he drew the line of how Valeriya would rule, which was to say not at all.
She left behind everything and everyone she knew to get what she wanted. Valeriya had thought that would be enough of a sacrifice. No Katya, no training as a mage, no sister. Valeriya was alone, but she wouldn’t be long. After waiting for years for Wyltam to change, she eventually yielded to her sister’s plan and together they would change Satiros.
Valeriya looked out the window, the sun dipping below the horizon. She should get ready, needing to drop the financial documents off still. Beside her bed was a loose brick in the wall, which she removed to reveal a small hollowed place for her to store items. She pulled out the documents and tucked them deep into her pockets.
As she went to exit the suite, Wyltam entered. Of course, he only ever showed up when it was inconvenient. “Wyltam,” she said with a dip of her head, hoping to dismiss him and be on her way.
“Valeriya,” he answered, pausing as he shut the door behind him. “Going for a walk?”
“What else would I be doing?” she asked, bristling. There was nothing else for her to do in that cursed palace.
“You shouldn’t walk by yourself at night.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, reaching for the handle. “Unless you think Keyain has done a poor job securing the palace.”
Wyltam eyed her with an icy expression. “It’s unusual for a queen to walk unattended. Even my mother—”
“I’m not your mother.” Her words came out sharp, her irritation growing.
He stared at her with an arched brow, the only hint of emotion. “Obviously. I offered to assign you a Queen’s Guard.”
Valeriya laughed as she perched her hands on her hips. “Oh, yes, there is nothing I’d love more than to have Keyain’s guards trail me day and night.”
“As I said, you could pick them out yourself.”
