Page 185 of A Queen's Game
The lyre player bowed, her blonde hair spilling to the floor. “Oh, no, my lady. Our troupe hasn’t been together long.” A blush crept across her cheeks.
“I would have never guessed,” Marietta said with a smile, watching the uneasiness fade from their features. A spindly elven man held an aulos, a red face elven man fidgeted with a horn, and a burly elven woman sat before two drums. “I’ve heardmy fair share of music troupes back in Enomenos, and I can see you four have a natural bond with one another.”
“You are too kind, my lady,” she said again with a bow.
Marietta forced her smile, wishing the musician didn’t feel the need to be so formal. “However, also in my experience, taverns prefer livelier music.”
“Apologies, my lady. Those songs would be inappropriate for you and Minister Keyain.” She gave a nervous glance behind Marietta, likely to where Keyain stood.
“Will you please play a tavern song, at least one for me? I promise it’ll be okay. Lord Keyain enjoyed his bawdy tavern songs back in his day,” she said with a daring smile. “And I would love to dance and sing to your music.”
The musician seemed unsure but exchanged her lyre for a fiddle. “I’m happy to play for you, my lady. Any requests?”
Marietta narrowed her eyes in thought, looking over at the tables of soldiers that filled the bar. “Are there any songs you can play that the soldiers would know but are also known in Enomenos?”
The musician paused, thinking. “There’s The Male From Rotamu. Do you know it, my lady?”
Marietta smiled, knowing the song well, though in Enomenos it was ‘Man,’ not ‘Male.’ It was the very song Keyain got on a table to dance to back in Avato so long ago. “In fact, I do. Perfect choice.”
Marietta let the elf tune her instrument, heading back to the table. She grabbed her ale and drank, thankful to be back in a tavern. The ale wasn’t the best she had tasted, but Satiros wouldn’t get shipments from Rotamu. Pale in color, it was hoppy with low maltiness and a lingering bitter aftertaste.
Amryth eyed her over her drink. “You’re up to something.”
“How well do you know the words to The Male From Rotamu?”
She narrowed her gaze as she set down her drink. “Quite well.”
The opening part of the tune started, the tavern patrons looking over to the musician. Marietta slung one arm around Amryth, the other one holding her drink as she sang the opening lines. “Oh, there once was a male from Rotamu who loved his ale more than any brew. His drinking led his wife askew, sleeping with an elf who was passing through!”
The beat picked up, the following lines coming faster. Reluctantly, Amryth joined her for the next verse, side-eying Marietta as the tavern’s eyes turned to them.
“There once was a male from Rotam-o,” they sang, their voices growing louder to compete with the instruments. Keyain stood frozen next to a group of guards, his wide eyes locking onto Marietta as red crept up his neck. “Whose wife we knew from long ago, blessed by the gods they did bestow, a nice big ass to give us a show.”
Marietta sang as she walked over to a table of soldiers and offered a hand to one of them, who sang along. He took it, standing to dance with Marietta.
Keyain’s eyes burned as they moved about the open space. Within moments, a few more soldiers joined in, swapping spots to dance with Marietta. She kept her ale in one hand, her other on the waist of her dancing partners, her face heated from laughing and effort.
The song finished, and the room began clapping and cheering as the next song began, one Marietta didn’t recognize. The soldiers erupted into singing, Marietta keeping pace with them as they danced. A few songs passed with new people entering the tavern, and more than just soldiers joined them.
Amryth found Marietta on the floor and danced with her as well. It was nice to see her stern demeanor drop, her smile wide.She deserved a break. After all, she’d been through so much as well.
Despite sweat sticking to her body and the gods damned heavy dress threatening to fall every two steps, Marietta felt as if she stepped back in time. The dancing, the ale, the people—it all proved that Satiros could be like Enomenos, that elves could dance with a half-elf. If only they understood Satiros could be equal, like her home, then maybe Marietta could learn to love this city-state too.
Lingering in the back of her mind was the truth. She was Keyain’s prisoner, and they considered her a lesser person for being a half-elf. At that moment, there were those in Satiros suffering for what they were born to be.
Alcohol and dancing numbed her brain, distracting her from the truth. For one night, she wanted to just be Marietta. Not a goddess’s chosen, not a nobleman’s wife. She wanted to pretend everything was still normal. So she drank, and she danced, and she avoided Keyain.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Elyse
Time moved too quickly during the carriage ride back, perhaps because Elyse spent it in Brynden’s lap, her mouth locked on to him. “This is the longest you’ve gone without talking,” she said into his collar.
“Do you wish me to talk more, my teasing goddess?” he said, lifting his chin so she could better kiss his neck. “I could tell you all the filthy things I wish to do to you.”
She laughed into his skin. “I’d prefer if you did those filthy things to me.” Dangerous words, but she meant them. Kissing Brynden was intoxicating. Was all kissing like that, or was it because they were a unique version of elf?
Elyse tried to block the topic from her mind, but it kept coming back. How did he learn that of her? How in the gods didn’t she know?
