Page 22 of A Queen's Game
She swung her legs over the bed, noticing two bruises across her shins. When did she get those? Yellow welts the size of her fists as if she ran into something. The color showed they had already begun healing, but she couldn’t remember how they got there. Confused, she inspected the rest of her body, trying to find any other spots that might give clues to what she did all those days. A gasp escaped her as she examined her arms. Her burn scars had disappeared. When she lifted her shift, she found the stretch marks on her hips and stomach erased from her body as well.
How did they do this? Doctors in the Enomenos never removed all the scars. To her knowledge, only the healing magic from a temple offered that. Had they brought someone here to heal more than her injuries? It was as if Keyain meant to erase her past, erase the memories that made Marietta who she was.
Who would she become if she remembered nothing of her years with Tilan? Or of baking? Or the marks of her own body? Those memories, frozen in her mind, caused her chest to ache with longing, but she would rather endure the pain of missing them than never have had the memories at all.
The smooth, unmarked skin of her arms was foreign to her. The scars were proof of her work as a baker—a damn good one. Keyain took that away from her, too.
The first severe burn she had gotten at her bakery came to mind. Alone in the kitchen, trying to prepare for the following morning, she pulled a sheet pan out of the oven, but her hand slipped. The pan landed on her forearm, pinning it between the oven door. At first, she felt nothing and yanked her arm free. Then the excruciating pain hit, causing her to scream and drop to her knees, cradling her forearm, which already blistered on both sides. Tilan burst through the back door, his breathing heavy. She remembered the panic in his face as he called out her name. When he found her on the floor, he ran to her, helping her stand. Tilan insisted on getting a doctor, though it was late. He refused to leave her in pain.
It took two months for those burns to fully heal. Every time Marietta looked at them, she remembered Tilan’s reaction that night, both his fear and his wanting to help her.
Her eyes watered at the memory, her arm catching the tears as they dropped. Breath hitched in her tightening throat. It was too much. She needed to get out.
She stood, her head swimming. Still only dressed in her white shift, Marietta crossed the room and flung open the door, half surprised to find it unlocked. Small light globes lit the hallway as she stumbled into it.
Voices chattered from down the hall as her feet carried her in the opposite direction. It didn’t matter where she went. The sunon her face. The wind in her hair. Those sensations compelled her to keep going. Marietta needed to feel alive.
Her movements were sluggish, her head spinning more the further she walked. The wall gave support as her body moved across it. The checkerboard pattern of the floor shifted in her vision, threatening to topple her.
Only a little farther to go. The end of the hall became closer, the sunlight from the window within reach. A glimpse of the world beyond would be enough. Gods, please, anything.
Marietta’s vision faded to black on the edges, lights flashing in her eyes. Her body collapsed against the wall, tears streaking down her face. From behind her, the nurse shouted as footsteps pounded through the hall. She wanted to escape; she wanted to be free. But she couldn’t do it. She was trapped.
Chapter Thirteen
Marietta
Soft, swishing fabric swathed Marietta as she walked arm in arm with her companion, head still shrouded in cloud. They spoke to her, but she didn’t even bother to hear their words. Why listen when she could swish her skirt?
Marietta lost count of the days. Not that time mattered to her while she passed it in a dreamy haze. A giggle escaped her mouth as she moved, the open back of her dress letting her hair brush against the skin. The tip of her fingers rubbed on the dress’s fabric as her companion brought her around to other clouded bodies. Some tried to talk to her, their words lost to Marietta. Instead, she smiled.
This little world was blissful. No harm could come to Marietta. Even as her companion guided her along, she felt free. The thought of Tilan’s face didn’t bring her pain as she imagined being in Olkia with him. Strands of his dark hair falling loose from his knot, brows furrowed as he bent over some design plans. Marietta reached out to tuck a lock behind his ear, but her hand grasped at air. Even in this world of happiness, she couldn’t experience his comforting touch. A fist clenched her arm, causing Marietta to drop her hand.
After walking through the palace, the hallway opened up into a grand foyer. Statues and plants climbed the high ceiling, all encased in white marble. She wanted to examine the magnificent room, but her companion led her up a stately staircase. At the top was a ballroom set beyond a row of glass doors, clouded faces filling the room. Most were light gray, though Marietta caught glimpses of some black and white clouds.
Some clouded figures approached them, voices sounding as if she were underwater. Determined to ignore them, she looked up at the lights above. Golden orbs lit the room in a soft glow, floating above their heads.
The ceiling towered high above. Why would anyone need something so high? Impractical, yes, but also magical. Marietta tilted her head back, gasping when she saw the painted panels above them. The sections had various scenes divided by gold borders. Satyrs and other beastly creatures basked in a forest. Some danced, others hunted.
A deer-like creature with spindly antlers and a single horn on its forehead centered in one scene. Splayed on its back were wings made of leaves. The panels next to it had naked female creatures embedded into trees. They were beautiful, with long cascading hair that looked like vines. Next to them was a panel of a humanoid body. Ribbed with muscle, the creature was thick in the center but topped with a great antlered stag’s head. It held its hand out to golden flecks painted in the scene.
She leaned back to view the other panels, but her companion squeezed her arm. As she snapped her head to the front of them, she saw another set of clouds stood talking. Marietta wanted to explore. There were so many fascinating creatures that filled this world.
Her companion led her to a long table where clouded faces only sat on one side. Her companion’s voice rumbled in her earas they bent her forward. Marietta flared her dress towards the two clouded figures who sat at the center of the table, dipping lower as directed.
Marietta then followed her companion to their seat near the center, their hand gripping her thigh as they sat. Before them stretched a sea of clouded faces. Her companion stood, the rumble of their voice resonating through her chest. Hands clapped all around her, the noise of heavy rainfall, a sound that always calmed Marietta. Her eyes rose to her companion, whose clouded face was white tinged with golden light. She smiled at them.
The wall behind the table caught her eyes. Thick columns of verdant stone climbed the length of the wall, entwined with golden vines. Carved white and black flowers and golden leaves studded throughout. Similar flowers grew in the forests near Avato, ones she had once picked to bring to an old, sick friend. Japsir, a former client who ran a bakery.
She smiled, thinking of the old man who inspired her to bake. The modest life he had lived, helping the sick or those whose loved ones passed away. He always sent food to them in their time of need. His kindness had touched Marietta, and she worked for him in exchange for baking lessons. During her visits to Avato, he would spend hours teaching to bake with empathy. That baking was creating joy for others, the lesson embedding into her heart.
Marietta snapped back to the room as her companion’s hand fell onto her shoulder. They still addressed the room of clouded heads, their touch soothing. Marietta leaned into their hand, earning a small grasp. Her companion sat back down as the clapping subsided, food and drink following.
A servant placed a plate before her, removing a dome of gold. She jerked back in surprise; the plate crawled with wriggling bugs. She stared at it with curiosity, reaching out to grab one, buther companion’s hand gripped her thigh. Instead, she turned to her glass, its contents sweet and tart as she drank it, avoiding the food.
After clearing the plates, her companion pulled out her chair, offering a hand. Marietta took it, following them to the dance floor. The fuzziness of her head grew more disorienting as the drink hit.
Her companion had one hand placed around Marietta’s waist, with the other holding her hand. The gentle music, which she noticed played in the background this whole time, grew loud. Unlike any melody she had heard, she sensed the emotion placed into every note the performers played. She tried to find the musicians, needing to know who they were. A squeeze of her hand pulled her attention back.
