Page 36 of A Queen's Game
His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he stepped close to Marietta. “King Wyltam wants to use you. He thinks you can be a reliable source of information.” Keyain exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I needed to get you out of Olkia. Anyone who fought back is dead, Marietta. King Wyltam ordered it. He ordered the attack. I... I couldn’t live with myself if you died.” Quick blinks controlled the tears that welled in his eyes.
“So you had your army slaughter people if they resisted you?” Marietta laughed darkly. “You think you saved me, but you have damned me. You stole me from my life, made sure I could never return, and drugged me so I couldn’t fight back.” Hot tears slid down her cheeks.
Keyain stepped closer, grabbing her hands and holding them. “I drugged you because somehow you resisted my team so much that you flung yourself down a set of stairs and nearly killed yourself. Gods, Mar, I—”
“Don’t call me that!” She pushed him away from her, but he didn’t budge. Keyain pulled her close, his body warm against Marietta’s, his arms locking her in place.
He looked her in the eyes. “I kept you drugged because the King wants to use you. That’s why you can’t trust Queen Valeriya. Look at what she did today after she figured out you were no longer drugged—she told the entire court! She has her motivations, her own game she’s playing.”
“What would the King possibly use me for?” she hissed at him.
“You have extensive knowledge of Enomenos. He wants me to use that information as leverage over the remaining cities.” A frown tugged at his lips as he rubbed his nose. “If they deemed you mentally incapable of helping, they wouldn’t use you. I just needed to convince them. I could’ve taken you to my property in the countryside, far away from this court. You just needed to stay drugged.”
“Don’t you dare blame this on me. You,” Marietta hissed, pushing her finger into his chest, “attacked Olkia. You brought me here. You drugged me to hide your lie. You lied to everyone and said I was your wife. All of this is all your fault.”
Tears lined his eyes again as he grabbed her finger, removing it from his chest. “Legally, we are married in Satiros. Under Satiroan Law, you are Lady Marietta Vallynte, my wife.”
Her eyes narrowed. Slowly she stepped out of his arms, her voice a whisper. “What did you do, Keyain?”
“I thought you would say yes,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “Under Satiroan law, an elf partner can claim a pilinospartner without their consent. I was going to ask you to marry me, but…” his voice trailed off.
“But you did it without me, without my consent,” she laughed. “Of course you did. You never respected me, and now I’m stuck in this cursed place with you.”
“Yes, you are stuck here, with me. And if you want to survive, then you better listen to me.” He stepped closer to her. “I know you’re angry, and I know you’re in pain.” His face crumpled as he spoke, his voice cracked. “But all I want is for you to live, Marietta. It was the only way. To bring you here.”
“You will always be the same, Keyain. You think you’re doing what’s best for me, but your actions always benefit you the most,” she seethed, turning away from him.
She was legally his wife.
How dare he, after all that time. Years of begging Marietta to move to Satiros with him—to have a family. Marietta told him no, time and time again, yet he did it anyway.
Now the King of Satiros wanted to use her against Enomenos. It made little sense. Regardless, she would share nothing. What’s the worst they could do, throw her in a dungeon? That didn’t scare her, not when it would be temporary pain and fear under Keyain’s control. She would escape, one way or another.
The silence stretched between them, Keyain mulling over her words as she weighed her options.
“What happens now?” she whispered, breaking the silence.
Keyain took a deep breath. “You’ll be moving into my suite immediately.”
“As your dear wife?” Her voice was dull as she spoke.
“Yes. As my dear wife.”
Silence settled over them, dragging as they walked towards the Noble's Section, their arms linked. People approached the two, but Keyain apologized and kept them moving.
Marietta immediately knew which door was his: the only one with guards stationed outside it. Like the two guarding the entrance earlier that day, they wore the green, leaf-like leather armor and swords hung at their sides. Behind the guards rose an ornate double door, the wood decorated with carved wooden vines like the ones she incorporated into the pie crust.
“Here we are,” Keyain said while pushing open the double doors. An antechamber greeted them, decorated with mirrors in wooden frames. Beyond the doorway was a long room, a table large enough to seat six was at the far end.
Though her apartment above the bakery was technically larger, the suite was grander with its ornate carved wood moldings, gold-gilded sconces holding light globes, the elaborately designed fireplace complete with tiny creature statues emerging from stone.
Marietta left the antechamber, stepping into the dining room with her hand dragging on the molding of the wood-paneled wall. A dark wood table sat before a hearth with chairs covered in green velvet. In the room next sat matching couches and chairs. So that was the life of an elven lord, living in excess.
Wrong—Minister of Protection.
“You live like this?” she asked, lifting one of the brocade drapes from the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked the fireplace.
“Like what?”
