Page 203 of A Queen's Game
Her father would push her to her death, as he did with her mother.
A calm rage washed over her as she stared up at her father. He pushed his honey-colored hair from his face—the same hair as hers. Elyse may look like her father, but she refused to behis.
The aithyr came to her easily, curling inside her body and for once not bucking against her control. As her father went to toss the vial at her, she raised her hand. “No,” she hissed. “Never again.” A gust shot from her hand, the force snapping into her father as he flew backward. There was a sickening crack as his back hit her desk.
Her father hissed and looked at her. “You will regret that, you stupid bitch.”
Panic seized her heart. At his tone, at his expression. As she tried to focus once more, she tried and failed to reach the aithyr.
Her father pushed himself up. Before he could narrow the space between them, she jumped to her feet and sprinted from the room. He caught her cloak, the fabric jerking her back at the neck. She reached around, ripping it from his grasp.
“Stop fighting your fate.”
Her father followed her as she ran into her bedroom and made for the bathroom. As she turned to slam the door, his foot blocked the jam. “Do you seriously think I’d ever let you go?” He laughed darkly. “Did you think any Satiroan law would prevent me from using you as I intended? You were made from the beginning to help my position rise, Elyse. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can be done with the drama.”
He pushed on the door and Elyse pushed back, her heart thundering in her chest. This was bad—worse than bad. Her father had no intention of letting her go, no intention of letting her be free. She couldn’t let that happen.
As her father began to win the push on the door, Elyse focused her mind and let the aithyr creep in. The energy thrummed under her skin. She reached through the crack, grasping her father’s arm, and imagined lightning. Sparks emanated from her hand and shot up her father’s arm, causing him to scream out in pain. For a moment, he stepped back and Elyse slammed the door on his face, locking it.
His fist hit the door as she backed away from it. “You fucking bitch.” He hit the door again. “You’ll have to come out, eventually. I’ll be waiting for when you do.” The sound of his footsteps faded as he left her bedroom.
Elyse couldn’t leave. She wished she could do the magic Sylas had done last night, to message someone to help her. Someone would come eventually. That door wouldn’t open until she knew it was safe.
Determined to wait for help, Elyse sat on the edge of her tub. From where she sat, she saw her reflection. Ragged, with a mess of hair, smears of makeup under her eyes, and the mark still on her neck. Her hand shook as she raised it to the redness, checking for a bump. What did he do to her?
A sob worked its way from her chest, spilling out her eyes. Her breaths were quick to come, not enough air filling her. Lastnight, she had thought she’d be readying herself to leave for Chorys Dasi. Now, she was locked in her bathroom with tears staining her cheeks. Foolish of her to ever think she’d ever be with him.
His name was a curse, neither Brynden nor Azarys in her mind. To think of his being, of his words, were like knives in her chest.I love you, Elyse. The pain hurt more than she imagined as she slumped to the floor and tucked her knees into her chest. Those words would haunt her, torment her for the response she would never give him.
I love you, Az.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Marietta
Marietta woke to Keyain ripping off the covers from the bed, to him looming over her. “Get up.”
“What are you doing?” she protested, inching away from him.
He grabbed her arm, dragging her to her feet. “I said get up.”
She shook free of his grasp, staring at him through sleepy eyes. Anger lined his face, and he wore his training clothes. “What do you want, Keyain?”
“Let’s go.” He grabbed her again, pulling her from the room.
“Wait—let me change.” Marietta wore only a silk nightgown.
“It’ll be an encore to your performance last night,” he hissed, pulling her through the dining room.
Marietta dug her feet into the carpet. “What are you doing?” She fought his pull, ripping her arm away from him.
Keyain jerked her forward. “Elyse. Something happened and she won’t talk to me.”
Marietta’s heart stopped. “Is she okay?”
“No, she stayed the night with Brynden. Something is wrong.”
Gods, she probably got to experience his fervent worshiping, only to find Keyain on the doorstep the following morning. Such humiliation would have been devastating.
