Page 157 of A Queen's Game
The carriage ride to the Ertwymer Sculpture Gardens was quick, she and the King exchanging short pleasantries. When they arrived, the King emerged first, offering his arm to Marietta. Guards stepped up closed around them as she left the carriage and her jaw dropped when she saw the garden’s entrance.
Between the buildings of Petal Row, the sculpture gardens stood in contrast with its sweeping canopies, thick blooming flower beds, and sculptures of creatures. More sizable than any living being, two statues of females sunk into the trunks of stone trees, hair twisting into the meticulously carved bark, the branches of each reaching across the top of the gate to form an arch.
“Dryads,” the King said, bent down to murmur in her ear.
“They’re beautiful.” Her eyes scanned each one as the guards escorted them into the gardens.
“Wait until you see the others.”
A thin, wiry elven man approached them, his nose long and lips curled into an unnatural smile. “King Wyltam,” he said with a sweeping bow. “My honor to have you back at the Ertwymer Statue Gardens. Will you need assistance today or—”
“With me is a noble lady you forgot to greet.” King Wyltam’s deep voice cut through the entrance, the guards at the sides stilling as the King’s mood shifted.
“Apologies,” he said with another sweeping bow. “I didn’t realize the clip—”
“I suggest your next words be a proper greeting for her. You know exactly who she is.”
The elven man cringed, swallowing down his words. “Of course, my King. Lady Marietta,” he said, the words coming out choked, “an honor to have you visit our gardens.” He gave a stiff bow. “I hope your first visit is enjoyable.”
Surprised at the King’s intervention and authoritative tone, Marietta furrowed her brows at the man. He was aware of who she was, the King not offering her name. “Your hospitality knows no bounds,” she said dryly.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the King smirk, his arm tightening on her grip. They stepped forward, passing the elven man who paled on the spot. “Next time I hear that word, I will have you replaced,” the King added. “Understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As they entered the garden, lush flower beds greeted them in an array of colors and shapes, bees buzzing from bloom to bloom. Smaller, less impressive statues of feline creatures with wings darted the landscape.
“Apologies, Marietta,” the King said, leaning towards her ear. “If I knew Hermyn would be so discriminating, I would’ve had someone else greet us.”
“It was good to see what your city thinks of me, Your Grace.” She tore her gaze from the gardens, finding his dark eyes. In the bright morning light, the flecks of amber were vibrant against what she could see was dark brown, not black, and utterly stunning. “I didn’t think you could be so authoritative.”
He gave a small laugh, turning to the guards. “Some space, please.”
A broad-shouldered elven woman stepped forward, dropping to a knee with her hand over her chest. “My King, we have orders—”
“I understand Keyain’s hesitancy to let Marietta enjoy herself,” he said with a drawl, “but my own personnel swept the gardens before we arrived. They’re secure.”
The guard nodded her head. Off to the side, Marietta caught the narrowed gaze of a slender woman guard with a plait of long, ash blonde hair. Her eyes darted between Marietta and the King, laced with suspicion. With a reluctant step and crossed arms, she moved back with the other guards.
“As much as I enjoy your brash way of speaking, try not to be so obvious in front of others,” the King said, guiding Marietta further down the path.
Above them, tree branches laced together to block the harsh sun. A slight breeze pushed through, offering relief from the already hot day, tousling the King’s hair. “I didn’t mean it to be an insult,” Marietta said.
With the guards fanned out around them, the King didn’t fight the smile that curled on one side of his lips. “I know, but I’m a king, the meaning of authority.” His face grew wary for a moment, Marietta catching the far-off stare, the falter in his smile.
“You hate it, don’t you?”
His gaze slid to Marietta.
“You hate being the King.” She narrowed her eyes with a smile.
“I am what I need to be.” He paused, eyes lost in thought.
Marietta let him think through his words, admiring the closest statue. Hooved and on four legs, it was like a horse with a single spiraling horn protruding from the forehead, similar to a unicorn; yet, instead of a horse’s mane, curled, shaggy fur surrounded its neck. Round, cub-like ears were nothing of a horse, and neither was the stub of a tail.
She drew closer to the edge of the path, King Wyltam following, though he let her arm slip away. Under scrutiny,nearly stepping into the purple forget-me-nots surrounding the statue, she shook her head. “I thought it was a unicorn, but it isn’t.”
“A monoceros,” the King said, standing at her side with his hands clasped behind his back. “Unlike the unicorn, it has the head of a stag and the tail of a boar.”
