Page 183 of A Queen's Game
Amryth sighed, looking back into the carriage. “What happened with him?”
“He grabbed me, so I left.”
Amryth’s expression darkened before looking at the other guards. “I’m taking her to the Snapdragon.” Then she looped Marietta’s arm with hers. “It’s a bit of a walk, but you might need it. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so upset.”
Marietta only nodded her head, not having the heart to tell Amryth it was because she forgot herself—forgot who she was.
The day’s heat gave way to a comfortable evening, warm with a gentle breeze casting the sweet floral scent of wisteria inthe air. The glow from the light globes drifting above the city street gave the buildings a golden hue, reminding Marietta of her bakery’s facade. If anger didn’t pollute her attitude, then perhaps she’d take a moment to appreciate it.
To sour her mood further, denizens strolling the city gawked at her, arm in arm with a guard, donned in a pearled dress and finery. Without a doubt, they realized who Marietta was. What other half-elf would have such a gown or guard at their arm?
A moment later, Marietta sensed someone approaching from behind. She turned, expecting to find Keyain, but it was the other soldier. An elven male with similar bulk to Keyain, but he moved with feline grace and quiet steps. Tied into a neat knot was his curly brown hair, a few locks breaking free around the top of his high cheekbones; his eyes were a shocking shade of blue, as pale as ice. A thick scar forked from the top of his left cheekbone to the corner of his mouth.
“Three makes a party,” Marietta said, dismissing him and continuing down the street.
“The phrase is three makes a crowd, Lady Marietta,” he said, amusement in his tone as he came up to her side.
“Well, with how much I plan to drink, it’ll be a party. What’s your name?”
“Wynn.”
Marietta turned to Amryth. “And how well do you know this Wynn?”
“I don’t,” she said, her gaze narrowing at him. “Wynn is one of King Wyltam’s guards, if you will.”
Marietta turned her attention back to Wynn, taking him in. “Why would the King send one of his soldiers with us this evening?”
“The King warned me you’d ask a lot of questions, but also told me not answering them would make you bristle,” he said, with his lips tilted up to one side. “And I wasn’t aware we’d bedeviating to a tavern. If my judgment serves me well, Keyain will be here in a moment.”
Marietta rolled her eyes. “Just because he has a piece of paper saying we’re married doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to his demands.”
Wynn considered her words, smiling. “I was also told you’d be quite brash.”
“Some call it brash. Others call it independent. Pick your interpretation.”
Amryth huffed a laugh beside her. “I’d call it both.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive,” mused Wynn.
“Then let’s add it to my title. ‘Lady Marietta Vallynte, First Half-Elven Lady, Favored by the Gods, and Brashly Independent.’”
The guards laughed as Marietta heard Keyain’s heavy footfalls before he reached their group. “That’s far enough.” His tone was authoritative as if she were one of his soldiers; but she ignored him, continuing to walk.
Keyain’s hand gripped her forearm, jerking her around. “I said that’s far enough, Marietta.” She expected to see the red-faced Keyain from the carriage, but he had collected himself. Based on the grip on her arm, he still fumed on the inside. Behind him were a handful more guards from the carriage, who exchanged glances with one another.
“Let go of me,” she hissed, trying to pull out of his grasp.
Wynn reached out, grabbing Keyain’s wrist. “It’d be a wise decision to let go of Lady Marietta. King Wyltam already gave his blessing for her to go to a tavern.”
Marietta shot him a confused look, to which he responded to tapping his temple, whatever that meant.
Keyain glared at him, removing his hand from Marietta. “Fine. If Wyltam deems itnecessary,then we’ll go to Marietta’s little tavern.”
“Good,” she said, turning her back to him. “Amryth, lead the way.”
The tavern wasn’t much further, a couple of blocks, and then a turn down a side street. Amryth’s smirk caught her attention as they arrived. “Keyain’s reaction should be pleasant.” And she pushed open the door, the inside clean and airy, but the typical casualness she would expect. Seated at long tables were elves clad in green uniforms, all with jackets undone. Marietta smirked as Keyain swore behind her.
“Don’t you want the safest tavern in Satiros for your wife, sir?” Amryth asked. “The safest is one filled with your soldiers.” She kept her face serious, nothing to hint at the smirk from moments ago.
