Page 254 of A Queen's Game
As she went to say no, she hesitated. Az had used that slur, hadn’t he? And not once had Elyse corrected him. Acid burned in her throat as she nodded her head yes.
“The bodies they did find had ‘clip’ carved into their foreheads, Elyse.” She reached over, grabbing Elyse’s hand. “Chorys Dasi orchestrated those murders, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones saying I killed Valeriya. Gods, they probably were the ones trying to killme.” Marietta huffed a humorless laugh. “To think my father told me all those fey stories just for them to brutalize pilinos like myself.”
Guilt rattled through Elyse at the mention of her father. Wyltam ordered her to keep what they found a secret, but how could she say nothing to Marietta? Especially after helping her uncover that her formally betrothed was a hateful murderer. The broach weighed heavily in Elyse’s hands. “Wyltam had me search through birth records.”
Marietta sat back, tearing her stare from the book. “Why?”
“What if I were to tell you that you were born in Syllogi, not Enomenos?”
“I’d say you were crazy. My father left Satiros long before I was born.”
She squeezed the broach, letting the metal dig into her skin. This was the right thing to do. Telling Marietta the truth was what she deserved. Elyse summoned her strength, raising her stare to her friend with a deep breath. “Apparently, he came back.”
Chapter One Hundred One
Marietta
Marietta couldn’t feel the goddess’s magic thrumming under her skin or the heat of her presence in her chest, but Therypon watched over her. The truth Elyse had brought her shook her very being to her core.
The fey discovery—learning that Az, better known as Brynden, or the gods damned Prince of Chorys Dasi was a fey—seemed impossible. To discover he was the one brutalizing pilinos, carving clip into their foreheads made her furious. They hid inside the court the whole time. At least they had been right about the murderers being from Chorys Dasi. If Marietta’s plan worked, if she lived through today, then she would raise all seven layers of hell to bring Azarys to justice.
What Elyse had shared about her father and the truth around her birth explained so much. It gave her an idea of how to leverage herself in court, standing on trial for crimes she both did and did not commit. If her plan didn’t work, then at least damage would be done.
Marietta stood between two guards, the doors to the throne room towering before her. How funny her abduction to Satiros ended with her on trial for murder while Tilan lived in the dungeons. She wondered if he knew that she was in Satiros at all.
There was a knock, and then the guards ushered in Marietta. Cavernous, the room appeared as empty as Marietta felt. Her footsteps echoed in the quietness.
Across from the entrance loomed a massive stained-glass window. The light shone through its panes of greenery and swirling flowers, bathing the room in its glow. Before it, dressed in his contrasting black, sat Wyltam on a golden throne, an ornate crown replacing his usual simple golden circlet. He didn’t seem to breathe as she neared.
His ministers fanned out from his dais. Minister Dyieter stood apart, waiting at a podium for Marietta to approach. Keyain wouldn’t look at her. Gods, of course, he wouldn’t. After all, this was his fault. He should have left her in Olkia, left her to her life. At least he would end their marriage today—that had been one bit of information Elyse passed on.
Besides the ministers, groups of their men watched. Off to one side stood Wynn and Elyse. The latter nodded at her. She knew Marietta’s plan, had even helped her run through all the ways it could go wrong. Wynn leaned down to whisper something to her, squeezing her shoulder. Elyse locked her eyes with Marietta as she whispered something back to Wynn.
The attendants of Therypon stood across from them. With a grimace, Coryn shook his head. Next to him was Nosokyma, who glared at the ministers and the King. Amryth was without her uniform, holding Deania, who cried. The sight crushed her. The people who risked everything to keep her safe now had to watch her gamble with her life.
More men stood in the galley’s shadows. They spoke in hushed whispers, their voices not carrying, but Marietta saw their lips all the same. Some dared to smile. She wanted to sneer at them but didn’t have her usual fire. Calm washed over Marietta as she approached the dais.
She lifted her chin, daring Keyain to look at her. Instead, Dyieter cleared his throat, pulling her attention. “Lady Marietta, the King’s Council of Ministers has gathered today to decide your future, but before we get to that, there’s unfinished business.”
Keyain stepped forward, his stare landing anywhere but on Marietta as he approached her side. He turned, facing the dais. “I move to annul my marriage to Lady Marietta under the grounds of adultery and high treason to the court of Satiros.” Adultery. He’d rather slander her name than help save her. Never would she forget his betrayal.
The King watched Marietta as he answered. “Approved.” Unlike the day he visited her in the infirmary, he tucked away his emotions.
Keyain walked to Dyieter, signing a paper before stepping in line with the other ministers.
“As it should be. After all, Marietta lied to Keyain about being with child.” Dyieter set papers down with a raised brow. “But now,” he said with a clap of his hands, “we can begin. Marietta Vallynte—apologies, that’s no longer your name.”
Vexed, Marietta wished to wipe the smirk clean from his face.
“Marietta Lytpier, you stand on trial for treachery against Satiros and the crown.”
So Wyltam had not told them yet. Hope grew in her chest, realizing she could still get the information out before him.
Turning to the ministers, Dyieter added, “We charge Marietta with delivering sensitive information to our enemies, aiding in their war efforts. During our apprehension of her, she incited a riot, and then she conspired in the tragic death of Queen Valeriya.”
Marietta bit back her surprise. The riot had not been her fault—it wasn’t her sword taking the lives of citizens. She withhelda scoff. They were throwing any charge at her to justify her execution.
“Two of the charges are worthy of death,” Dyieter continued. “The other is a serious crime. Without defense, the Ministers of the King’s Council will—”
