Page 116 of A Queen's Game
“I wasn’t misleading her,” he said with such seriousness that it took Marietta back. “Her father, Gyrsh, is a complete asshole.” Keyain ran a hand through his hair as he ground his jaw. “I justfound out that he started hitting her again—that’s why I faked the betrothal. Because Gyrsh wouldn’t dare to lay a hand on her in case I found out.”
Marietta’s heart sank. “But she’s an adult—she has to be close to my age.”
“That’s odd to think about. Elyse is near to her third decade, so not much younger than you.” He quieted, biting his tongue. “We all treat her as a child when, at her current age, you and I were together. And you had your business well-established by then.” He sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. “Fuck, that’s what she meant.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I just realized something,” Keyain said, looking up at her through his hands. “Thank you—for talking to me tonight. I know none of this is easy for you, but I still enjoy your company, for what it’s worth.”
Marietta nodded; he only just then realized the woman he was betrothed to was an adult. No wonder Elyse’s behavior was so erratic—the very man she was to marry thought of her as a child. Her father abused her, though she was an adult.
Did Elyse have anyone besides Keyain helping her? Marietta considered that thought. “If she initiates it, I’ll go. But I’ll let her be the one to reach out.”
“Thank you, Mar,” he said, dropping back in his chair, a range of emotions on his face. “Thank you.”
Marietta woke to Keyain getting ready, the sun not yet cresting above the horizon. Light spilled through the doorway of the bathroom, illuminating the room. Keyain emerged dressed in acasual tunic and pants when he noticed her awake. “Go back to sleep, Mar.”
“Why do you wake so early every morning?” Marietta’s voice was thick with sleep.
“I train with the guards before my meetings,” he said, crossing the room to shuffle through a pile of clothes.
“A minister trains with the common guard every morning?”
“As Minister of Protection, I oversee both the guard and the army. How can I keep their respect if I let myself slack off?”
“And here I thought being the greatest warrior of Satiros would earn you respect.”
Keyain huffed a laugh, turning to Marietta. “You’d be surprised. That was also a century and a half ago. Titles fade if you can’t back them up.”
A century and a half. He earned that title well before Marietta had been born. “A funny thing, age between the races. I often forget how old you are.”
“Well, I’m not that old,” he said, walking to Marietta. “I’ll see you this evening.” Keyain kissed her forehead and took off from the room. A few minutes later, she heard the suite’s door close.
Silence encased Marietta as she stared at the canopy above the bed. Did Keyain realize the difference in their lifespans? Half-elves lived a fraction of years of an elf’s. In the end, she would only be a blip in his life, and perhaps that was the reason he could so easily rip Marietta from her own.
Not letting her thoughts dwell on that idea too long, Marietta rose and readied herself for the day, hours before she would do so normally. After sending her response to the King, Marietta selected one of Keyain’s books and sat in the living room. She stifled a yawn while she readThe History of Satiros—or attempted to, at least. After waking up early, her tiredness caused the dry material to be drier. Even her strong tea didn’t help. How did Amryth stay awake reading such books?
“In the first years of Queen Olytia’s rule, she proved to be a capable ruler of Satiros. Through strict laws and restructuring her court, she brought security and hope to her people, driving incoming refugees from all over the Akroi region to live in the city-state. Her name became synonymous with idealism, a future where all could praise her—”
Satiroans praised the late queen like she was a deity? Never would someone view a city-state leader or the Enomenoan Unionization Council members more than who they were—an elected official. They didn’t receive special treatment because they did not differ from anyone else, held to the same standard as all. Was that the difference between having a monarch rule? Do people learn to praise instead of holding leaders accountable? Gods, that was a dangerous line of thought. Kings and queens get their ego stroked at the cost of their people. Was ego the sole reason for such praise? Or was it to maintain the power of their throne? Marietta shook her head. It was too early to tackle such thoughts.
“Her name became synonymous with idealism, a future where all could praise her for the everlasting change in Satiros. Under her rule, she strengthened the laws against pilinos, solidifying their role in society. Some ill-informed critics—”
Ill-informed critics? Marietta flipped to the cover of the book, laughing. Did Queen Olytia write this herself? The book was an ode to her greatness because of placing pilinos scum in their lowly place. Of course, Keyain had this on his shelf.
A soft tapping sounded from Keyain’s study, so subtle she may have missed it if she focused on reading. She must be hearing things. The palace was old and bound to make noise. Marietta reopened the book to her spot, but the tapping came again. Curious, she set aside her book and tip-toed to the study when it stopped once more.
A panel of the wooded wall swung open, Marietta gasping and taking a step back as Queen Valeriya stood in the passageway, donned in simple pants and shirt. “Hello, Marietta.”
Her mind blanked, registering what she saw. The Queen of Satiros appeared in a hidden doorway, not dressed like a queen.
Queen Valeriya read her expression and laughed. “Surprised? I have something to show you.”
Marietta shook her head, bringing a hand to her temple. “What is this?”
“I need your help, Marietta. I’ll explain more if you come with me.”
“I don’t understand.” Marietta glanced around the room.
