Page 27 of A Queen's Game
“Fuck your father,” he hissed. “You’re an adult. If you want to go somewhere private with me, you should. Live in the moment, Elyse.” His jaw was hard-set, serious, as he searched her face. Then his expression softened, his hand cupping her cheek once more. “More than anything, I wish to pull you into my lap and kiss you until my jaw aches.”
He looked at her with such intensity that her breath hitched. Of all her years in Satiros, he was the first to say such of her. That she was an adult and that she could make her own choices—that she could befree.
Elyse grabbed the front of his shirt, drawing him to her. The heat in her stomach flared as he kissed her back, matching her hunger. “Okay,” she said between kisses.
“Okay?” His eyes searched her face.
“Yes, okay. I want to live,” Elyse said, alcohol emboldening her as her head felt dizzy. “I want this with you. And I want it now.”
He kissed her once more before wrapping his arm around her, searching for a private spot. Brynden gave her a concerning look as her head spun. Or maybe it was the ground.
“Oh, Elyse,” shrilled a voice from behind, earning a glare from Brynden. Grytaine approached up the path, alone, in a dress that revealed as much as Elyse’s. “I was just wondering why you haven’t introduced me to your handsome date.” She winked, earning a heavy sigh from Brynden.
“Grytaine, funny to see you here in the garden. Alone,” Elyse slurred.
“Lord Brynden Vazlyte, Emissary to Chorys Dasi,” he answered, offering a slight bow as he held on to Elyse.
“Oh, Chorys Dasi? I hear it’s beautiful this time of year. A shame that you’re in Satiros.” Grytaine stepped closer and showed no intention of leaving. “I’m Lady Grytaine Lasyda.”
Of course, Grytaine would appear out of nowhere to be a pain, just as Elyse had a chance to experiencehim.
“Minister Royir’s wife, a pleasure to meet you,” he said, looking over his shoulder down the path. “I was hoping to have a private conversation with Elyse. If you will excuse us.”
He pulled Elyse away, her steps clumsy as she leaned against him. Heat rolled off his comforting body, and he was so strong. And handsome.
“Please, come join my husband and me,” Grytaine pleaded. “It’s not every day we can talk to someone from Chorys Dasi. I insist.” She flashed a false smile, placing her hand on his forearm.
He glared down at the touch before looking at Elyse with a sigh. “Of course. Please, lead the way.”
Brynden’s arm steadied Elyse as they followed Grytaine. “I’m afraid all the wine and no food might have clouded your judgment,” he murmured. “We’ll continue that another day. I promise to call on you soon.” He quickly pressed a kiss onto her cheek. Grytaine raised her brows, his blatant affection odd for them not courting. Unless he meant…?
Elyse stared at Brynden as they walked. Someone wanted her to live, not just to be alive. Brynden wanted to touch her, be with her, and she wanted it, too. For once, she looked forward to the future. Not only because he promised to call on her, or because of her touch-starved state, but because for the first time since her mother’s death, Elyse had hope of escaping Satiros.
Chapter Sixteen
Marietta
The dizzying effects from the night made Marietta’s head spin as she held it, sitting on the edge of her bed. Awareness edged its way back, starting in the hallways, her body threatening to topple. Keyain had carried her back to her room.
Keyain knelt before her, whispering, “I’m so sorry I’m doing this to you.” She lacked the energy to recoil from his touch as he leaned in with a kiss. Heavy footfalls crossed the floor, and then the door clicked shut.
Scenes of twirling dresses, mystical creatures, mesmerizing dark eyes, and a voice of rolling thunder swirled in her head. Where had they come from? Regardless of placing all her strength towards focusing, Marietta could recall nothing more.
The tight gown she wore grew uncomfortable the longer she sat. The green fabric with gold lace lined her body, the color causing bile to rise in her throat. Satiros’s colors. Keyain was dressing her like a doll, one he could show off to the court, his faithful wife.
Fogginess threatened her vision, and even shaking her head didn’t help her focus. She wanted the gods’ forsaken dress off her. The zipper on the side slid down, her hands pulling thefabric off her when one hand slipped into the pocket, finding a folded piece of paper. She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands as she examined it.
Was it real, or did she imagine it?
Shaky fingers unfolded the paper to find the looping handwriting of smeared charcoal.
“Don’t eat or drink what they bring you. Don’t let them know you know.”
Confused, she reread it once more, trying to make sense of the words. They… they were drugging her food. The words were a warning, but who in Satiros knew Marietta enough to warn her about Keyain? No one in Satiros knew her, save Keyain, but he was the one doing the drugging.
The handle jiggled as a different nurse opened the door. Marietta dove onto her bed, hiding the note underneath her pillow. As the nurse stepped in, Marietta sat on the edge of the bed, forcing her eyes to gloss over.
He said nothing to Marietta as he helped her change, as if he expected Marietta to be incoherent. How long had she been like that? The nurse left the room after changing Marietta into a plain white shift.
