Page 31 of A Queen's Game
“You… why would the Queen want to help me?” Marietta’s eyes grew wide as Keyain’s warning rang through her head: don’t trust the Queen.
But could she really trust Keyain after everything he did?
The Queen stood, bringing her hand to her chin. “I wanted to see how you’d react while sober and to learn why Keyain drugged you. Now, come. We should meet the other ladies.” She turned, waiting for Marietta to follow.
Trailing Queen Valeriya through the garden, Marietta’s mind raced. Why help her? To what end was helping Marietta deemed necessary to her? If she cared for her well-being, wouldn’t the crown intervene in another manner? There had to be a more official procedure for someone drugging their spouse—some sort of law that prevented it. Assuming the laws here applied to someone like Marietta. She swallowed hard at the thought.
The Queen flipped her hair over her shoulder, glancing back towards Marietta. Dignity and grace, that’s how she held herself with her straight back and purposeful gait. “A queen typically waits for no one, yet your husband has kept you from me. I wonder, Marietta, why that is? Was he not excited to bring his long, lost wife to court? He keeps you locked away, drugged. Why would that be?”
Marietta had thought the same question. Why would Keyain keep her drugged for this long? He was too smart to think she’d remain in that state. Did he think she’d fight him, not wanting to be in Satiros? Of course, Marietta would fight him until her dying breath, but drugs weren’t the only way to suppress her.
He had mentioned she’d be safe in the countryside. Marietta assumed it was to isolate her and to restrict her freedom. Staring at the Queen of Satiros, she realized it might have been to protect Marietta from the Queen’s pressing questions. What was he attempting to hide?
His marriage to Marietta. That had to be it.
He was lying to the court, had them all believing she was his wife. Keyain had to keep her drugged so the Queen wouldn’t know the truth, but she saw through his lie. “I’m not sure, Queen Valeriya,” Marietta said, keeping her expression neutral.
The Queen frowned, then looked ahead before speaking. “The ladies are eager to meet you. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of questions, so try not to let it overwhelm you.”
Heaviness pooled in Marietta’s stomach. Strangers excited her under normal circumstances, learning their stories and personalities, but she didn’t know their court. She’d have to walk into the room completely unprepared.
Heavy raindrops fell, causing the Queen to look up with a frown. “We’ll take the long way to the Royal’s Wing. This palace might sprawl, but at least they made the separate buildings connect.”
Two elves guarded the door as they approached. Without their helmets on, Marietta noticed one had more masculine features and the other more feminine. Leaf-shaped pieces of leather armor dyed green spread across their shoulders and abdomens with swords hanging at their sides. The Queen ignored the guards, leading Marietta into the building.
The parts of the palace she’d seen were already dripping in luxury. Yet as she stepped into the hall, the lavishness struck her. Velvet green curtains trailed from the windows. Gold-gilded frames of artwork hung from the walls clad in expensive dark wood. Marietta felt out of place, her surroundings too formal for a mere baker.
“I know you have seen little of the palace,” the Queen said, “but this is the Noble’s Section. I expect you’ll move in with Keyain soon enough. Any person with a political title or land-holding noble keeps a suite in this building. Under Satiroan Law, nobles must spend at least half the year in the palace. They could be here for six months straight or interspersed throughout the year.”
Marietta’s eyes flicked to the Queen, recalling the days she’d travel with Keyain. He would leave for six months, never telling her the truth. “For what reason?” she asked.
“Remember titles and honorifics, Marietta,” the Queen chided. “And the late Queen Olytia—King Wyltam’s mother who ruled before him—had a wise philosophy of keeping her courtclose. It’s easier to snuff the flame of rebellion when the wick is under your thumb.”
Marietta raised her brows, the philosophy sounding more controlling than wise. Keeping a thumb on people would suffocate them if held on long enough. Keyain’s nature was just a product of being from Satiros.
“Nobles must return when their duty calls,” the Queen continued, “even if they have completed their six months. Many of Keyain’s subordinates have traveled back to the palace for the war effort.”
Marietta knitted her brows. How high was Keyain’s position? They traveled together, ate together, slept together—he was her gods damned bodyguard; and, yet he held a high enough office to start a war and have subordinates? Unbelievable.
The hallways turned at a set of doors and led to a new section. Embossed into the floor were two intertwined wisteria flowers of purple amethyst—the Satiroan crest. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the passage, facing the rainy garden to one side. To the other were columns of green marble laced with golden vines. A broad staircase sat at the center of the hall, made of rich wood cushioned with plush green carpet.
Marietta trailed the Queen up the stairs. “As the Minister of Protection and leader of the Satiroan army, your husband holds a very prestigious position in our court. As such, you do as well. You will be the subject of many conversations,” she paused, glancing back at Marietta. “Be cautious; rumors catch like fire around here.”
Marietta blinked. Minister of Protection?
Without a chance to process, servants opened a set of double doors at the top landing. The Queen’s voice cut through the chatter, gesturing to Marietta. “Ladies, ladies! I brought a special visitor with me today.”
A half dozen ladies all sat together, their eyes turning to Marietta as her body froze, resistant to following the Queen. This was a trap. The note may have been in Marietta’s best interest, but the Queen had her own motives.
For a moment, Marietta thought that perhaps being off drugs in front of the ladies could work to her benefit—they could help her get away from Keyain; but, when she looked at their sly expressions, she knew they would be of no help. They became starved dogs just tossed fresh meat. Their intention wasn’t to help but entertain themselves.
Marietta slowed her breath as she crossed the threshold, holding her chin high. She just had to get through this tea time, then she could find another way to escape. Telling the ladies the truth—that Keyain had abducted her—might make them question her sanity. After all, Keyain was theirMinister of Protection. Marietta was a meek half-elf in their presence.
“Come, Lady Marietta. Sit with me,” Valeriya said, taking a seat at a small table with two chairs. Marietta crossed the space, noting the women of the room. They wore tight gowns like her own, adorned in layered chains and necklaces. Dark powder lined their eyes.
The veranda was airy, with a tall ceiling. A humid breeze rolled in from the rain, wafting scents of wisteria, jasmine, and lavender. Below was a small garden of tumbling greenery. Beads of mist trailed off an invisible barrier protecting them from rain. At first, it confused Marietta, then she remembered—they had magic in Satiros.
The room held uncomfortable silence as Marietta took her seat. She forced a smile, trying to regain her composure. After all, how many times had she walked into a room full of strangers and won them over? Those times were of her own free will and not after Keyain abducted her, dragged her to Satiros, anddrugged her into a stupor. Such nervousness was as foreign to her as the city-state she found herself in.
