Page 9 of A Queen's Game
He jerked her back, dragging her towards a dark alley. Marietta’s eyes scoured the dark street to find it void of people. In her panic, her foot swung out under the attacker’s leg, causing him to lose grip on her. She pushed him back and turned to run away, but she slipped on the wet cobblestone. His hand caught her hair and pulled her backward as she screamed with her heart pounding in her ears.
Another set of footfalls thundered, followed by a loud smack behind her, and she broke free from his grasp. Marietta crawled through the dirtied slush of the street, panting and her mouth dry. She turned, finding Keyain punching her assailant with his lips pulled back in a snarl.
Keyain’s fist ceased when the assailant stopped moving, his hand coated in blood and his face splattered with it. Marietta’s eyes widened. Was the man dead or just unconscious? The alley’s darkness obscured his features, and she could only see his stilled form. She focused on Keyain’s face, the blood splatter adding to his freckles.
“Are you okay?” He offered his unbloodied hand to help her up.
Her body trembled on the ground, her mouth unable to speak, but she nodded her head.
“Come on. Let’s get off this street. Where are you staying?” He helped her stand and placed a hand on her lower back, guiding the still-shocked Marietta towards the light.
The keys shook in Marietta’s hand as she unlocked the door to her apartment, Keyain standing at her side. It was foolish to invite a stranger into her home, yet she couldn’t shake the sensation of the knife at her throat or the fear of being draggedinto an alley. Sure, he had an ass for a friend, but he had saved her, hadn’t he? That had to mean something. Plus, the elven man would be a good distraction and a comfort. He was alluring, among other things.
“This is it,” she said, nodding to the studio apartment that was hardly a home. She unclasped her cloak and tossed it next to her travel bag, half-packed with its contents strewn across the couch.
The room became visible as she lit an oil lamp. Keyain raised a speculative brow at the tiny room. His gaze missed nothing as it scoured the apartment from the two-seater couch to the single chair at a small table next to her few cabinets that counted as a kitchen. He tilted his head curiously at the bed placed near the window. Next to it sat a stack of books acting as a nightstand. “It’s… quaint. And lovely.”
Marietta laughed, making quick work of her boots before dropping them beside the door. “It’s a shit hole,” she said, pointing to the water-stained plaster just above her.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Then you need your eyes checked,” she said, turning to face him with her hands planted on her hips.
He rubbed the nape of his neck, hesitating. “I mean, I would expect a successful businesswoman to live somewhere a little more….”
“Extravagant?”
“I was going to say clean, but sure. Extravagant.”
Marietta walked to the stove and started the flame. Though a shit hole, she picked it because not only was it cheap, but it had plumbing and a gas stove. Marietta preferred to have interior gas lamps, but she couldn’t beat the price. She filled the kettle, looking over her shoulder at Keyain. “Can I get you anything? Cup of tea?”
He glanced up from the stack of books he inspected. “I’m alright, but thank you.”
She placed the kettle on the stove, leaning back against the counter as she watched Keyain. The elven man was a stranger, but he made himself at home as he walked around the room, attempting and failing to hide the judgment from his expression. She laughed to herself as she turned to the whistling kettle, pouring it over the leaves in her teapot. Even with Keyain’s close inspection of her apartment, calm washed over Marietta. Perhaps his presence alleviated her anxiety. Or, more realistically, it was the calming chamomile scent that drifted from her brewing tea.
Marietta turned back to the room as she waited for her tea to brew, watching Keyain grimace as he examined the items strewn across the couch. “I’m only in Kentro a week at a time,” Marietta said, drawing his gaze.
“And?”
“That’s why my apartment is small—and cheap.”
“Oh, I wasn’t judging,” he said, the blush climbing his cheeks again, as he stood to face her, arms clasped behind his back.
Marietta laughed to herself at his ridiculous blushing; such an adorable action didn’t match the man. “You most definitely are.”
“It’s just surprising. You dress like someone who’s well off.”
“That’s because I am well off.” Marietta hid her smirk as she turned back to the teapot, pouring the drink into a ceramic mug. Typical Syllogian elf focused on flaunting wealth and status.
Marietta met his gaze as she crossed the room, then dropped it to his body half-hidden by his coat. Anticipation built as Keyain followed her, leaning against the opposite wall as she sat on the bed. The couch would have been more appropriate, but the bed was a dare. How would Keyain react? Thoughts dartedin his eyes; she could see him trying to piece together Marietta, which thrilled her. Heat sparked at the bottom of her stomach.
“Even if you’re only here part-time, I thought you’d want to live somewhere that marks your status,” Keyain said.
Marietta snorted. “I have nothing to prove, no status to claim. I only own this place as a means to hold the few items I own.”
Keyain shook his head, one side of his lips curving up. “You’re an interesting person.”
Marietta shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the best compliment you can give?
