Page 37 of A Queen's Game
Marietta turned to him, raising a brow, gesturing to the rooms. “In luxury, with no expense spared. Velvet dining chairs, really?”
Keyain gave a subtle eye roll, checking his irritation. “Is it not nice? Would you prefer the threadbare inns of Enomenos?”
“Absolutely,” she said without hesitation. “At least I’d be there by choice.”
She turned her back to Keyain, facing the double wooden doors inlaid with etched glass that partitioned the living room and dining room. The etching was a forest scene of deer with gnarled antlers and wings sprouting from their backs and tall, twisting trees with naked women growing from the bark. Marietta reached her hand out, gently touching the details. Such craftsmanship reminded her of Tilan.
“Must you smudge the glass with your fingers?” Keyain said behind her.
Glaring, Marietta rubbed her palm down the glass as she pushed open the door, stepping into the living room.
Gods, another fireplace? The green couches flanked its hearth with a low, dark wood table set before them. Marietta ran her hand over the fabric, as soft as velvet but as thin as cotton. Expensive.
Her gaze trailed to the bookcases lining the walls, the series of volumes and knickknacks that sat on the shelves.History of this. War tactics that. She clucked her tongue—unsurprising. A warlord has war books.
“What?” Keyain asked, trailing her like a dog through the suite.
“Such exciting reads.” She could imagine the look on his face without having to turn around, his irritation rolling off him. Good. Suffer like she had to suffer.
Marietta walked to the far side of the room, to where a set of high-back chairs and a small table sat before ceiling-high windows, overlooking the expansive garden beyond. In the distance, she thought she saw another building, but it was hard to tell. She should’ve tried her luck at escaping in the gardens—at least chasing her down would have irritated Keyain.
On the far wall was a singular door, missing the fineries of etchings and carved wood. She pushed it open, finding a practical office lined with more bookcases and filing cabinets. From the wood-paneled wall hung a hand-drawn map of the entire Akroi region. Marietta walked to it, her fingers resting on Olkia, tracing the road to Kentro, to the other cities of Enomenos. The same roads on which she and Keyain fell in love.
Marietta’s heart turned to ice as she turned around, glaring at the man who took everything from her. “So, this is where you do your dirty work? Start wars? Kill families?”
Keyain didn’t bother hiding his irritation as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, his fingers tapping against the door frame. “This is where I read those reports, actually. The dirty work happens with the King and my team.”
A nugget of information—his reports were in that room. Likely they were locked away, but what did they contain?
She walked over to his desk, her fingers tracing along the wood top to a stack of papers. “Oops,” she said, knocking them to the floor.
A satisfying warmth spread out from her chest as Keyain lost his temper, swearing. “Are you a child, Marietta? Is this necessary?”
“Would you admit to having a child as a wife?” she said sarcastically, strolling past the scattered papers, past him, and out the door. Petty, so incredibly petty.
Her lips tugged into a smile. She could be so much worse.
Marietta crossed the living and dining room to inspect the other side of the living space. She stopped dead in the doorway. At its center was a four-poster bed with green brocade curtains,the mattress piled high with plush pillows and blankets. She looked around for another bedroom, her gaze settling on Keyain. “There’s only one bed.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sharing a bed.”
“Are we not husband and wife?” A smirk curled on his lips, the amusement not reaching his eyes as he leaned against the wall next to the doorway.
“You can sleep on the couch,” she said, striding past him into the suite. “Wouldn’t be the first time I made you do that.”
Keyain grumbled at the memory, and she would’ve smiled if her stomach wasn’t in knots. It was one thing to be forced to live with Keyain—it was another tosleepnext to him.
She shuddered and turned to the bathroom, where wood paneling gave way to white marble tiles lining the room. A golden glow lit the space as she entered. “Magic must be nice,” she murmured, earning a sigh from Keyain. Of course, the Syllogi nobles have magic-imbued objects for everyday use. They controlled the magic, keeping the techniques and use for their own city-states. When they did sell magic-imbued objects to people in Enomenos, it was at a ridiculous cost.
Across the wall adjacent to the bedroom was a long wood vanity with storage, marble sinks with running taps sprouting from its top, and all set before a seamless glass mirror. A stone washtub sat at the center of the room upon a dais. To its side was a small table with vials and a gold tap with a removable wash head. It was set before…. “Gods, another fireplace?” she said, gaping. It matched the carved stone of the dining-room hearth. To its left was the water closet, tucked away from the finery of the ornate bathroom.
Marietta shook her head. The lords of Satiros shit in better rooms than most in Enomenos would ever live.
She returned to the bedroom, coming to another set of doors, and found two mother-of-pearl in-laid wardrobes and a velvet-padded bench. “Yours is on the left,” Keyain said just over her shoulder, causing her to jump.
A smirk lined his face as she turned to him, offering a glare. “Not too close now, lord,” she said, pushing him away.
