Page 161 of A Queen's Game
“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.
Chapter Sixty-One
Elyse
First came the flashing lights, the crescent-shaped bow of lightning and bright white lines in Elyse’s vision, the room around her shifting in a disorienting manner. Then came the muscle weakness, her slurred speech, and body so heavy that she couldn’t move. The handmaid tried to help Elyse to the bed, but they only made it to the couch from her study.
That was two days prior.
Still curled up on the couch, a servant lifted another cup of water to Elyse’s mouth, goading her to drink. When the water reached her stomach, nausea roiled again, and the liquid came back up. The throbbing on the side of her head was excruciating, the effort of vomiting making it worse. The handmaid said something about getting a doctor, but Elyse didn’t want one. She didn’t want to take Choke.
Even with the drapes drawn over the living room windows, the morning light was still too bright for her. The lavender scent of soap was too much, let alone the smell of food. Elyse could keep nothing down as her head pains made a horrid return. It had been years since she had one of that severity.
She told the handmaid that the head pains would pass. And it was true—they would. But the longer Elyse went without eatingor drinking water, the worse they grew. Perhaps she should take Choke. Perhaps losing control of herself was worth more of the pain; yet, every time the handmaid insisted, Elyse turned her down.
Elyse had been studying magic in her suite’s office when it first hit. After weeks of steady practice, she could draw aithyr to her body consistently. With the help of Wyltam’s books, she could perform small magical feats. Creating wind, moving objects across the room, and heating her tea were all second nature to her at that point, but that was before Elyse lost a couple of days of practice.
With sleep being nothing more than brief moments of unconsciousness and a slight reprieve from the pain, Elyse spent the last two days fretting about falling behind, about not practicing her mental exercises. The head pain needed to subside soon.
During one of her moments of brief unconscious relief, a quiet knock sounded on her suite door, followed by someone entering. Odd, considering the handmaid didn’t bother knocking the past day.
“Oh, Elyse,” whispered a voice, a broad male body approaching in her fuzzy vision. Sylas’ face took form as he knelt next to her. “Keyain said your head pains came back. Do you trust me? I have something to help—something that isn’t Choke.”
Elyse tried to speak, but her mouth felt foreign, like she had never spoken before. The left side of her head throbbed as she tried to nod.
A moment later, a glass vial pressed against her lips, the contents runny and sweet filling her mouth and throat, causing her to gag. Sylas held Elyse’s head, brushing back her hair, hushing her. The pain eased, as did Elyse’s mind as she drifted off to sleep.
Elyse woke in her bed, the curtains drawn around the four posters covering her in darkness. She sat up, and though she was dizzy, the pain in her head disappeared.
Because of Sylas.
Her legs wobbled as she stood, blood rushing to her head with the effort. When she looked down, Elyse noticed that someone had finally changed her clothes. A simple white tunic and soft, tight pants were preferable when she studied alone in her room. The handmaid must have changed her.
The central room of the suite grew dark with the setting sun, the only light coming from the study. Elyse approached to find Sylas sitting at her desk, looking through her notes.
“Sylas,” she choked out, her voice raw from vomiting and thirst.
He turned around, worry knotting his brows. “Are you feeling better?”
She nodded and gestured to her desk. “What are you doing? Why are you here?” Sylas owed her nothing. Elyse was thankful for his help, but playing messenger between her and Brynden was already a burden—taking care of Elyse shouldn’t be another.
Gods, the last time she saw Sylas, she cast him away because of his date with Lydia; yet, there he was. He came to help.
“I looked for you the past couple of days to drop off Brynden’s letter,” he said, standing up from the desk and facing Elyse. “After the library study remained empty, I had a moment to talk to Keyain. He mentioned that your head pains returned. I convinced him I could help, and he let me into your suite—with guards posted outside, of course.”
“Thank you,” she said, pulling at the hem of her shirt. “But why are you still here?” Elyse bit inside of her cheek, the words coming harsher than she meant.
“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he said with a smile tugging at his lips. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the drugs, but theyseem to have worked.” Sylas paused, turning to pull the papers on her desk. “Sorry for looking at your notes—curiosity got the better of me. Your drawings are incredible, Elyse. How far have you gotten?”
In her tired state, she wasn’t sure if she could do magic. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind and attempted. A gentle gust of wind blew past Sylas’ head, earning a surprised look.
