Page 150 of A Queen's Game
She ran after him for the same reason she didn’t want immunity from the temple—the Queen’s plan. Her proximity to Keyain gave her the perfect opportunity to widen the rift between Keyain and Wyltam, to damage and tear down their court from the inside.
“Did you catch what they said about the war?” Amryth asked, stirring her from her thoughts.
Marietta frowned, looking out the window. In the afternoon’s bright light, the reflection from the buildings was near blinding. “The temple of Therypon is moving against Satiros,” she said. “I thought the temples stayed out of political matters.”
“They do. If the temple of Therypon chose a side, I wonder if the others have, too.” Amryth paused, following Marietta’s gaze. “The temples have pilinos attendants who tried to flee Syllogi for Enomenos. Satiros attacking Olkia would upset many of them.”
Marietta turned to her. “Yet they said Therypon gave the instructions. She has temples in the Enomenos, right?”
Amryth nodded. “I wonder if the army touched the temples. Some of my fellow soldiers are religious, but most hold the same beliefs as the court. Many are taught to, at least.”
“Would Therypon enter the war as a retaliation? What would happen to the temple here?”
Amryth shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened. Nothing like you has ever happened, either. Gods, if Keyain finds out, he’ll lock you up again. I won’t be able to get you out a second time.”
“Then I’ll have to keep it a secret,” Marietta said, knowing it was just one more she’d keep from Keyain.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Marietta, Before
Marietta swore under her breath. Keyain was two hours late to meet for dinner. Again.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach as she paced back and forth in their room at the inn. The asshole. Never courteous of her time, but gods forbid if she were more than a minute late for him. It was always about him and what he needed. The selfish prick.
As her anger grew with her hunger, she left a note saying she’ll be at the Firewater Tavern, picking his least favorite place in Rotamu. Served him right. If he wanted a say in the matter, then he should have been on time. With a huff, she left the inn, heading down the main street parallel to the Halia River.
His tardiness was a new development recently. Though he was messing up, his protectiveness of her rose to a new high. Even meeting with a client was next to unbearable for him, let alone the meetings that went longer than she anticipated. Often she would find him pacing outside of whatever business she worked with. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover how she felt about it. Gods damn prick. Always a pain in her ass.
The winter sun had already sunk below the buildings, painting Rotamu in shades of dull gray as delicate snowflakesdrifted to the cobblestone street. Against the chill, she drew her wool cloak tighter around her body, thankful for her thick leather boots.
Marietta took her time walking, savoring the icy burn in her lungs, puffing clouds of air out her nose, though her stomach growled at her speed. Deities damn Keyain for making her that hungry, for turning her mood sour from a late dinner. Marietta sighed as she walked into the tavern.
“Oi, Marietta!” called a short human male from the far side of the room. He wore a red tunic from one of the temples. Marietta could never remember which one.
“Meruk! It has been some time since we ran into one another,” she said, approaching his table. Meruk was an old acquaintance, a cleric to a god. Like herself, he appeared to be familiar with many around Enomenos.
“That it has! Are you alone? Care to join us?” Meruk gestured to an open seat between a human and a half-elven woman.
“I’m supposed to meet my partner but I can sit with you while I wait.” Marietta sat next to a man who also wore red.
Meruk and his companions caught Marietta up on the news of Rotamu. It was the typical gossip she expected to hear—rumors of a popular singer’s troubled love life. The local drunk had disappeared for a few days. A young girl ran away in the middle of the night. The one shred of news that surprised her was a fire burning down an alchemist’s building in the North River district. The owner, an elven woman from Syllogi, had died inside.
Marietta placed a hand over her heart. “That’s terrible. Any ideas on what happened?”
Neither Meruk nor his companions answered. Instead, they stared over Marietta’s shoulder.
“Mar, a moment?” Keyain’s strained voice said as he gripped her shoulder.
Marietta closed her eyes with a sigh. His tone was the only warning she needed. “Excuse me,” she said to the table.
Not sparing Keyain a glance, Marietta walked to a quiet corner void of other patrons. With a cross of her arms, she glared at Keyain.
“So much for waiting for me.” The veins in his neck bulged as he ground his jaw, lips tightening to a thin line.
“You were late. Again.”
“I was busy and came as soon as I could.” Keyain gestured toward Meruk’s table. “What are you doing with the cultists?”
