Page 67 of The Forgotten Queen
“Remember the two men we saw coming out of the front of the castle the day of the wedding?” Kase asked. “Well, the first man was definitely Von Nealman.”
“Maybe the second guy was Otis Sutton,” Marx offered.
“I’ve seen the other guy somewhere before, but I don’t recognize the name, Otis Sutton.” Kase shook his head. “For some reason, I can’t place where I’ve seen him.”
“I’m sure it will come to you.” Marx stood, brushing off the sand from his skin. “Keep digging into the uncle and the aunt, and I’ll work on Sydria, see if I can get any clues from her on who this Otis guy is.”
The two men began walking down the beach, side by side.
“When you talk to Sydria,” Kase said, “ask her about the medicine she takes.”
This was the first time Marx had heard of medicine. “What are you talking about? Why does she need medicine?” His voice came out harsh, and a panicky feeling pinched his heart.
“Geez, buddy. Calm down.” Kase laughed. “It’s something Von mentioned when I went to visit him. He said that Sydria needed to keep taking her medicine so that her heart would work properly.”
Marx rubbed his face, hating the thought of Sydria with a broken heart…a literal broken heart. Not the kind that he typically caused in his family. “Okay, I’ll ask her about that.” They walked a few more feet before he added, “And maybe I will have the castle doctor take a look at her to make sure she’s okay.” He could feel his friend’s eyes on him.
“Whatever you say.” There was a laughter behind Kase’s remark that bugged him.
The only reason Marx was so invested in Sydria was so that he could figure out who she was and send her back home. Then they could both escape the arranged marriage and move on with their lives the way they each wanted to.
That was the only reason—the only reason he was willing to admit to.
Sydria
Sydria opened the double doorsto the balconyin her room and stepped outside, feeling the windless summer heat. White glittering stars dotted the night sky above her, and the sound of waves lulled her to a brief moment of peace. She peered out into the blackness. The ocean was dark, like her mind. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, tucking her hurts inside—the emptiness, the loneliness, the forgotten happiness.
“Looks like you had the same idea as me.”
Sydria turned to her left. She hadn’t noticed Marx when she’d walked outside. His balcony mirrored hers in size and shape. He wore a pair of cotton shorts and a plain white t-shirt. His hair looked damp from a shower, and his face was clean shaven. She hadn’t seen him all day and had decided he must only want to see her when they were in public and could play out their fake relationship in front of people.
“King Marx, sorry if I disturbed you.” She turned to go.
“Hold on,” he said. “We’re married. Remember? That means you can’t call meKingMarx.”
“You’re right,” she said, glad that he didn’t like the formality.
“Do you want some company?” he asked.
She pulled at the side of her silk robe, making sure it covered her nightgown and, more importantly, her scar. “Sure. I’ll go unlock my door.”
“There’s no need,” Marx said. He climbed up on the edge of the railing.
“What are you doing?” Sydria panicked. There were six feet between their two balconies and three stories to the cement ground below.
He balanced on the twelve inches of stone that capped the railing. “I’m going to jump across.”
Her hands went out to stop him. “Are you crazy? You’ll get hurt.”
“You don’t think I can make it?” His lips pulled into a cocky smile.
“I don’t think you should try. What if you’re overconfident in your abilities?”
“I know my strengths.”
Sydria shook her head. She didn’t like taking risks.
Marx lifted a brow. “Ready? One. Two. Three!”
