Page 67 of A Queen's Game
“I’m just going to make this clear for you three,” Marietta said, splaying her hand on the gnarled wood tabletop. “Clip is a slur. It is insulting. You don’t get to decide whether it is or is not. Elves are not superior—they never were and never will be. One day, your bodies will burn just like the rest of ours. I suggest during your week in Rotamu you learn how to empathize with those who look nothing like you because clearly you never have.”
Marietta left the booth, turning around adding, “I would say it was great meeting you, but unlike some people here, I’m not a liar.” She glared at Keyain before stalking off to the stairs, heading up to their room.
Keyain returned to their room not long after Marietta, slamming the door behind him. “Are you kidding me?” he yelled, his face red.
“I should be the one asking that,” Marietta said, crossing her arms. “You honestly believe clip is an okay way to refer to me?”
“We’ve been through this—that’s how people refer to pilinos in Syllogi, Mar!” Keyain dragged a hand through his hair, turning away from Marietta with his jaw tight.
“I don’t give a fuck where it’s said. It’s an insult, and you were in the wrong. If you can admit I’m your partner—which, by the way, seemed unbelievable that you’d ever date a half-elf—then why can’t you stand up for me? Why can’t you treat me like I’m a whole person?”
Keyain whipped to Marietta, his nostrils flared. “I know you’re a whole person, Marietta. And yes, it probably was jarring for them to see me with someone like you but—”
“Someone like me? You mean a clip?” Marietta rolled her eyes and went to her pack, pulling out her nightclothes. “Half-elf is just as easy to say, only it admits that part of me is elven. Wouldn’t want to taint the word elven with my filthy, part-human blood,” she said sarcastically.
Keyain walked over to her. “Marietta,” he said, grabbing her arm.
She jerked back from his grasp. “If you ever—ever—try to grab me like that again, then you can travel Enomenos by yourself.” Marietta stepped closer to him, placing her finger on his chest with a furious glare. “Do you understand?”
“I don’t want to fight.” Keyain bit his tongue, biting back tears. “This is our last week together for a while. I don’t want to end our amazing journey to be like this.”
Keyain’s arms wrapped around Marietta, folding her into a hug. Pettiness wasn’t above her, and she thought of shoving him away and insulting him some more, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Gods knew Keyain deserved a huge blown out fight. After everything, she should just leave him and tell him to not return to Enomenos; yet when she looked into his face and saw the emotion in his expression, that anger cooled. She hated herself for it, wishing she could stay heated, could hate him for not standing up for her.
The funny thing about love was that once it took root in one’s heart, it was hard to weed out. Keyain made her furious, not just at him but with herself. Despite that feeling, she knew that she loved him. The good of him outweighed the bad. And now, whether she was ready for it, Keyain was leaving in less than a week.
Perhaps six months away would do them some good. After all, living out of inns together for the past few months had been an awful lot like being married. Marietta would gain some independence back.
She didn’t want to part on a sour note, no matter how in the wrong he was. “Okay,” she whispered into his chest. Keyain pressed a kiss on the top of her head.
“I love you, Marietta. I promise to always support you, even when it doesn’t seem like I am.”
Marietta bit back her retort, deciding not to fight. “I love you, too. And I’m really going to miss you.”
Chapter Thirty
Elyse
“Remember to not make a fool of yourself today,” Elyse’s father said, picking fuzz off a navy jacket as he ignored the heat from the early afternoon sun. “Last time was enough of an embarrassment for a lifetime. I need not remind you what the consequences would be.”
The implication lingered between them, and Elyse swallowed hard. No, she wouldn’t think of the consequences. “I’ll be on my best behavior, father.” She hated the words, and she hated her father for expecting them.
After Keyain and Brynden’s fight, referred to asthe incident, it surprised Elyse that Brynden wished to call on her again. More surprising was her father agreeing to let Elyse leave the palace.
The Chorys Dasians stayed at a townhouse nearby, though Elyse questioned why they wouldn’t stay in the designated section of the palace for foreign dignitaries. But who was she to question? She’d get to visit with Brynden and enjoy a day of freedom. No palace. No father. No watchful eyes. Excitement bubbled at her center, a mixture of nerves and giddiness.
Her father ordered a handmaid back full time for Elyse since Brynden wished to continue pursuing her hand in marriage.Though she dreaded sitting through the awkward silence, Elyse was thankful for their expert touch.
Much to her surprise, she felt beautiful. People claimed she was a beauty, and Elyse knew they didn’t lie, but she was uncomfortable in her skin. She could not see what others saw. It was as if her clothes or hair never fit her, like they belonged to a different person.
Except for that afternoon, in her gown of pale blush, striking against her bronze skin. The tight-fitted lace corset bodice flowed into a tulle skirt with slits well up her thighs. A sweetheart neckline complemented what few curves she possessed. The sleeves started mid-arm, billowing out in the sheer fabric and gathering again at her wrists. The handmaid twisted her hair up with loose strands of honey brown hair falling free; her shoulders laid bare.
For once, her father had nothing to nitpick on her appearance. That alone set her nerves at ease. Well, that and the liquor. Three cups, to be exact, kept them eased as well.
An ostentatious carriage pulled up to the curb outside the palace, painted black with red and gold filigree adorning the trim and doors. At the helm sat a mage who propelled the vehicle with magic.
The door flung open, revealing Brynden, his straight black hair pulled into a knot, extenuating the planes of his face. Draped on his body was a silk shirt with a deep neckline dropping to his navel with ruffles. Similar to her dress, the sleeves billowed out and were tight at his wrists. A gold chain hung deep into his neckline, with a small gold medallion hanging from the end. Handsome, but like the carriage, ostentatious.
Elyse suppressed a laugh as he bowed dramatically, a full smile lining his face. “Oh, my dear Elyse, how I have missed you so.”
