Page 17 of A Queen's Game
The soft glow of morning light bounced off the sterile white walls as the fog lifted from Marietta’s mind. The drug’s effects left her with no memory of what happened after Keyain forced the vial down her throat.
Focused on the ceiling, Marietta wished for the energy to escape the tiny room and the man who entrapped her. She longed for her home in Olkia, to wake up with Tilan and walk downstairs to open her bakery. Keyain ripped her away from that life. Tears returned as she closed her eyes, wishing they would stop. A heavy heart led to a clouded mind, and both made devising an escape plan difficult.
Startled from her thoughts, the nurse flitted through the door, humming to herself. She cracked open her eyes at the intrusion. “Oh, good morning, Lady Vallynte!” the elven woman said, setting down a tray of food. “Your husband will be by this afternoon to get you up and moving.”
Marietta nodded, hope brimming in her chest. If Keyain took her from the room, her chances of escaping would be much higher—fewer barriers to freedom.
“After being bedridden for such a time, your body will be weak,” she added, setting out a new gown of pale blue chiffonon the bed. “I told Minister Keyain to come as often as he could. Walks will help you regain your strength. Now, up, so I can get you changed!”
Marietta slid from the covers, legs wobbly as she gripped the nightstand for stability. Such weakness was unknown to her. Marietta protested at the sight of the periwinkle fabric in the nurse’s hand. “Is there something else to wear?” Such a tight garment made escaping difficult, not to mention the chafing between her thighs.
“This is what your husband chose for you, my lady,” the nurse said, unzipping the fabric.
Instead, she attempted to cross her arms. “I choose my clothing, not Keyain. Is there an extra set of leggings and a tunic?”
The nurse laughed, shaking the dress before Marietta. “Minister Keyain failed to mention you have a sense of humor.”
“Bold of you to assume I’m joking.”
The nurse furrowed her brows. “You’re a lady. You wear dresses.”
“Only I decide what to wear.” The little patience she had slipped away. “Not you or anyhusband.” She spat the word, the betrayal to Tilan thick on her tongue. Keyain was not, nor would ever be, her husband.
“He mentioned you could be difficult,” the nurse murmured under her breath. “This is all I have. There’s only so much time for you to eat and to fix your hair.”
“Fine,” Marietta said, the submission making her want to scream. The sooner she left this gods forsaken room, the closer she’d be to escaping. Reluctantly, Marietta changed into the dress. The nurse then led Marietta to a chair and grabbed her brush.
As she reached for her hair, Marietta yanked away. “What are you doing?”
With a huff, she answered, “Brushing your hair, my lady.”
“Could you wet it and use a comb? Otherwise, my curls will turn frizzy.”
“A brush will have to suffice, my lady,” she said, pulling Marietta back. “I don’t have time to search for a comb.”
Marietta held her sharp retorts, cringing as the nurse brushed. Never would she use a bristled brush on her hair, let alone when it was dry. The nurse only followed Keyain’s orders, and he alone was to blame.
Finishing with a tight knot at the base of Marietta’s head, the nurse placed the food tray on her lap. Though the porridge looked like paste, hunger drove Marietta to eat. Her hand shook as she took a bite.
“Good, eat your fill, my lady,” she said, picking up Marietta’s discarded clothing. “It’ll help you regain the weight you lost while bedridden.”
Marietta swallowed the tasteless porridge. “What were my injuries?”
“I won’t bore you with the details, but thank goodness for the drugs that sedated you. Being awake with your injuries would have been cruel.”
Yes, to be awake while in pain was the cruel part. The abduction, false marriage to Keyain, and seizure of Olkia were minor inconveniences. If hunger hadn’t gnawed at her stomach, Marietta would have lost her appetite altogether.
Her mind grew foggy as she attempted to remember what happened and what had caused her injuries. There was Tilan, a knife glinting above him, the sharp sweep of its edge at his throat. Panic gripped her as her spoon clattered to the tray. Tilan was dead. A deep longing and heavy grief crept into her heart.
The nurse turned to her, Marietta watching through tear-filled eyes. “Oh, Lady Vallynte, don’t be sad. Your experience must have been horrible.” She approached Marietta, the nurseclasping her hands around hers. “But you’re safe now, returned to your husband.”
Marietta’s lips quivered, her breathing coming with sharp gasps. Did she know the truth? That Keyain brought her to Satiros against her will? Or did she believe she was Keyain’s wife?
“Hush, my lady,” she said in a soothing voice, placing the spoon back in Marietta’s grip. “Keep eating, and all will be better.”
Marietta took another bite, though her throat tightened with the memory of Tilan. She wished to hug him, to feel the rise and fall of his chest against her while she played with his hair. She could imagine the stick of rolled tobacco behind his ear and the smoky scent clinging to him. Could imagine his loving smile as he looked up at her. But Tilan was gone, and never again would she get those moments. He would never craft another creation, would never tease her about her recipes; she would never be with him again. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her mind grew hazy again.
Her body was light, weightless. She fluttered through doors and hallways, passing the most curious things. To stop and inspect each statue and painting would be a dream, but someone pulled her forward by the arm. A tall person who was broad across the chest, led her through the palace. Her companion’s face was unrecognizable with their features hidden beneath a gauzy white cloud.
