Page 101 of A Queen's Game
“You shouldn’t have gone to the temple at all,” he snapped. Keyain took a heavy breath, reining in his anger as he noticed the people gawking and pulled her closer by wrapping an arm around her middle. “This is an absolute embarrassment,” he said under his breath.
Marietta laughed, unable to help herself. After months of trapping her in the suite, letting her deteriorate into the shell of who she used to be, Keyain remained more worried about his public image. “Wouldn’t want anyone to know that Satiros’ greatest warrior married a feral clip,” she said, the slur causing him to recoil.
“Enough, Mar,” he said after a moment. “We’ll deal with this once we’re home.”
Home. The idea was laughable. That tiny suite was not her home but her cell. No matter how many comforts Keyain gave her, it would remain as so.
Silence settled between them as they returned to the palace. The guards dispersed once they were inside the halls, and Keyain wasted little time hauling Marietta back to their suite. He shut the door behind him, turning to Marietta. “Sit down,” he ordered, gesturing to the dining table.
His tone sparked a flame of anger in her chest. Vexed, she walked to the table, crossing her arms as she leaned against it.
Keyain sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, stand for all I care,” he said, exasperated. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Excuse me?”
“An apology would be nice, at least.”
Marietta gave an irritated laugh. “I owe you nothing, the least of all an apology.”
He sulked, arms crossed over his chest as his hulking frame towered over her. “You owe me an explanation then—something I can tell the King and Queen after half the guard was sent into the city to search for you.”
“Are you not listening?” she asked, pushing off the table. “Have I not been telling you I need help? That I wanted to go to the temple for help?”
“You’re the one not listening,” he said, leaning down towards her. “There are ways to help you in the palace—”
“And where is that help, Keyain?” She took a step towards him, craning her neck to stare into his glaring face. “What have you done to help me since I’ve been here?”
“Well, you were on drugs, but Valeriya—”
“Queen Valeriya gave me what I wanted,” she snarled. “I don’t want to be drugged, unaware of the world around me. I want to live—I want to be present. This,” she said, gesturing between them, “needs to change. You stripped me of everything—”
“I saved you, Marietta,” Keyain said, grabbing her shoulders with a slight shake. “I gave you the truth. Aren’t you happier knowing?”
“Learning the truth was devastating!” She shifted from his grip, glaring at him. “I was struggling, alone, confined to just my thoughts. You couldn’t even be bothered to take me out of this gods damned suite!”
Keyain recoiled from her yelling, his face grimacing. How funny that she, who stood barely to his chest, could make Satiros’ greatest warrior flinch. Such power bolstered her, Marietta’s words growing sharper. “I’m done. I’m done waiting for you, done being alone, done being at your whim. You’ve stripped me of myself, and I will put myself back together,” she said, stepping towards the bedroom door. “Go ahead and think you’ve saved me, Keyain, but you didn’t. You’ve damned me, and now I’ll save myself.”
“Marietta, we’re not—”
She shut the bedroom door, cutting off his sentence. Keyain slammed his fist, the table thudding in response, followed by the clinking of glasses. Typical. He always turned to alcohol when he felt negative emotions.
Marietta leaned against the door with her eyes closed as a smile laced her lips. Tomorrow she would get out. Tomorrow she wouldn’t be alone.
Tomorrow, she would be one step closer to being free.
Part Two
"Be patient and tough; one day this pain will be useful to you."
- Ovid, Metamorphoses
Chapter Forty
Marietta
The sun came out the following morning; the weather matched her new optimism. A note waited for her at the table, an invitation to join the Queen for tea at noon. Of course, she likely heard of Marietta missing the day prior. She should have expected such a request.
Marietta took her time with breakfast, savoring the taste of the fresh figs with her yogurt. Though she couldn’t eat much, her stomach filling up fast after a month of poor eating, each bite kept the smile on her face. Likewise, she spent the morning getting ready, soaking in the tub until her fingers pruned. She even allowed the handmaids to help, appreciating their quiet enthusiasm towards Marietta’s change. Peace nestled into her core, her head remaining free of racing thoughts and negative attitudes. Things were about to change for her; she could feel it.
