Page 20 of A Queen's Game
Fingers appeared over the top of the binding as he leaned across the table, pulling it down from her face. “No need to be so hostile.” She glowered as his voice turned sultry. “I promise to make you happy, to give you every bit of what you want. You won’t be thinking of Keyain’s cock—”
“Out!” she yelled, slamming her book on the table.
“Elyse, don’t do this to me.” Kurtys spread his hands wide, his eyebrows knit together.
“Out,” she yelled, pointing to the library beyond the curtain. “I’ve had enough with you. Leave me alone.”
He snatched her hand as she pulled it away. “Please, give me a chance—”
She jerked her hand from his grip, yelling, “I said leave me alone!”
“You’re an—”
The curtain snapped back, stunning Kurtys mid-sentence. Elyse held her breath, her hands and feet growing numb. “Lady Elyse, you sound distressed,” said King Wyltam in his deep, rumbling voice. She hadn’t been that close to him since she was still betrothed to Keyain—when he still had a reason to speak with her. Dread pooled in her gut.
“Apologies, my King,” Kurtys said with a quick bend of his head. “Elyse never answered my betrothal.”
The King kept his gaze on her. “I addressed Elyse, not you.”
Her body shivered under his stare. Unable to take a breath, she muttered, “I wish to be alone, King Wyltam.”
The King snapped his fingers. “Leave. If I find you cornering Elyse or pressuring her to marry you again, I will remove you from my court.”
To watch Kurtys pale with fear was almost enough for Elyse to forget her dread. The noble scurried away, leaving her alone with the King.
King Wyltam slipped his hands into his pockets, his gaze finding Elyse. “Are you alright?”
Her throat tightened, and finding herself unable to speak, she nodded her head.
The King stared at her book. “The History of Lyken Fulbryk? I’m surprised you’re reading about magic.”
She clutched the book to her chest. “I, uh, like to read about people who travel and have seen the world, my King.”
“Fulbryk lived quite the life. Are you able to follow his magic principles?”
She nodded again, her eyes wide as she gawked at him.
“Interesting, since you don’t have formal training. I wonder if you’ll be like your mother.” He paused, tilting his head as he regarded her. “Well, carry on.”
When the King walked away, Elyse released a breath as her shoulders slouched. Anxiety coiled its way from her gut to her chest, squeezing her heart. Grytaine at tea, Kurtys pressuring her, and the King’s sudden appearance were all too much. Wearily, she tucked her knees into her chest, resting her head.
As much as Elyse wished to leave this life behind, she knew she could never do such a thing. This palace—this court—was her prison, bound by her father, a cruel warder wielding absolute power; but at least in that alcove, she found reprieve with reading the adventures of the well-traveled. Only there did she dare dream that one day, she too could be free.
Chapter Eleven
Valeriya
Evening had already settled over the city as Valeriya ventured through the streets of Satiros. Light globes hung above the rooflines, casting the white-washed buildings in a glow in the fading daylight. A dense webbing of wisteria covered the side of this district’s structures, their purple blooms vibrant against the pale exteriors.
Petal Row, the city district dedicated to entertainment, crawled with life. Denizens packed the sidewalks, and the trolley rolled by with its clanging bell. A mage sat at its front, using magic to push it along Oak Boulevard. Carriages passed with mages at their helm, using magic instead of animals to maneuver through the twisted streets.
Roasted meat, garlic, and other herbs permeated the air from various restaurants. The music carried through the air from music halls, a cacophony of lyres, drums, and singing voices. Some parks held outdoor theaters. If Valeriya neared them, she’d hear the actors crying out their poetic lines. She wished she had a chance to see such plays, yet her life didn’t have that luxury—not when she had her legacy to build.
Instead, the greenery of the city blurred around her as she wove her way through. Gated parks sat at every block, densewith old oak and olive trees. Plants of every bloom sprouted in beds around them. As with every Syllogi city-state, statues of fey creatures rose among the foliage, stark and life-like.
When she turned down a side street, she also found it packed with meandering people. Stagnated, they took their time, enjoying the comfortable summer weather. When did she last enjoy an evening this nice? Likely it had been during her last summer in Reyila with Katya. A smile tugged at her lips that she forced back. Thinking of her would be of no help with the task she set out to do that evening.
Shrouded in magic, Valeriya blended in with the crowd disguised as one of the palace’s servants. Though being a royal was always her future, she had pursued a life as a mage to remain at Queen Nystanya’s side. Her sister had other plans once she married Auryon and made him king. Convinced Valeriya was more useful in a position in a foreign court, they placed her in Satiros, where she could better use her mage abilities, unknown but powerful.
