Page 253 of A Queen's Game
“I’m working for the King in an official capacity.” Elyse pointed to the broach pinned to her chest.
“Of course you are,” she said, smiling. “What else have I missed?”
Her gaze turned to the book, Marietta following it. “I, uh, found something?”
Marietta grabbed it and read the cover. “You said that as if it were a question,” she paused, raising the book in her hand. “I don’t think this will have any smut in it.”
She gave a nervous laugh, shifting on her feet. “None that I found at least.”
“You’re anxious,” Marietta said, eying her. “What’s wrong?”
Gods, this was stupid. She was about to be on trial for treason and murder. Marietta didn’t have time to ease her mind. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“That means it’s a good idea. Now, sit.” She scooted over, patting for Elyse to take a seat. Marietta wasted no time flipping through the pages. “Extensive history on Chorys Dasi. Interesting book choice.” She flipped to the cover. “By this Lyken Fulbryk. Never heard of him.”
Elyse stilled with that, her palms sweating as guilt resonated through her. She wasn’t supposed to say anything. “I, uh, wanted to show you the center of the book.”
Marietta opened to the blank pages. “Odd choice to leave blank pages in the middle.” She began inspecting them as Elyse had, except she found the words faster. “‘Histories sealed by blood, the secrets our kind keep?’ Interesting. What does it mean?”
Elyse removed her brooch and took the book from Marietta, pausing as she held her finger over the pages. If the images didn’t show up again, it would be proof that she was crazy. She pierced her skin with the brooch’s pin, her blood dripping to the page. Marietta remained quiet, focusing on her blood. Elyse held her breath, wishing for it to spread.
“Odd,” Marietta said, taking the book back to her lap. “The blood absorbed into….” She gasped, running her hands along the pages. Her eyes scanned the illustrations, her mouth moving though no words came out. She kept flipping until the last page, her hand rising to her mouth. “Oh, Elyse.”
She shook where she sat. “You see it, right? I’m not crazy?”
“Oh, I see it.” Marietta gaped at the book. “Two horns circling the sides of his head from his temple.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I don’t know what they are—what I am. They’re beasts or monsters. They said I was like them, but I don’t have horns. I don’t understand.” Her breath picked up, unceasing as the panic hit.
“You don’t know what they are?” Marietta shook her head. “Gods, what you are?”
“No.”
“Beastial domain means nothing to you?” Marietta asked.
Elyse began picking at her nails. “Should it?”
“Fey. Proof that fey exist.”
“As in, feyrie tales?” That was impossible. Then again, so was having a distinct scent. So was having horns.
“Yes,” she said, her voice rough. “During the height of the pilinos disappearances, there was a witness who reported being attacked by two people. One had a set of gray, feathery wings.” She paused, meeting her gaze. “The other had two horns circling the sides of his head from his temple. Elyse, he killed those people.”
Time stilled as Marietta placed the book back in her lap. She stared down at the picture of Azarys, the details of his face so familiar, suddenly distorted with this revelation. Elyse couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe. She was in love with a murderer. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Marietta grabbed her hand. “If I don’t survive the trial, you need to bring this to Amryth.”
“Don’t say that.” Elyse’s throat choked with emotion. “I need you here. You’re going to be okay. Wyltam said you’ll be okay.”
“I trust that he’ll do everything in his power to help me, but you have to make sure this—” she pointed to the book “—is known by Wyltam and Amryth.”
“Wyltam will think I’m crazy. He already—”
“He knows about the fey and can confirm what I’m saying.” She shook her head. “This is the greatest discovery of our lifetime, and the only confirmed fey we’ve met is a murderer.”
“But why? How could he have done this?” Elyse took in a sharp breath. “Sure, he lost his temper a few times, but murder?”
Marietta stared across the room with furrowed brows. “If Syllogians already hated pilinos, then it isn’t that much of a stretch that the—” she leaned over to the book, reading “—Prince of Chorys Dasi wanted to murder them. Have you ever heard him use the term ‘clip?’”
