Page 68 of The Forgotten Queen
She covered her eyes with her hands as he leaped across, hearing his feet land hard on her balcony, or maybe that was his body landing on the cement below. It was hard to tell, especially when her mind liked to imagine the worst.
There was silence.
“Are you dead?” she asked, keeping her eyes shut. If his body was splattered on the ground, she didn’t want to see it. She had so few memories. Something like that would take up way too much space in her mind.
“You can open your eyes now,” he whispered. His warm hands were on hers, pulling them away from her face.
Marx stood in front of her. His closeness stalled her breath, countering her quickened heart.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she breathed out.
“I do a lot of things you wouldn’t believe.”
They stared at each other, and Sydria began to wonder why they always found themselves in such close proximity, gazing into each other’s eyes, when no one was around.
Marx broke the spell first, peeking his head into her room. “How do you like the place?” He stepped inside, and Sydria quickly followed, not sure what she was so nervous about. It wasn’t like she had a secret diary lying open on her bed.
“I love it. It’s a beautiful room.” She fidgeted with her robe as she watched him glance around.
“I haven’t been in here since my mother moved out,” he said, turning to her.
“This was your mother’s room?” Now she felt guilty that she’d been staying there. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like Sydria was the one who had chosen which room to put her in.
“Well, her stuff was in here, but she always stayed next door with my father.”
“Oh.” Sydria felt the exact pattern of her blush as it crawled up her cheeks.
Marx must’ve noticed because his eyes sparked with amusement.
“I haven’t seen you around,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“Did you miss me?” There was enough seriousness in his expression that she didn’t know if he was joking or not.
She smoothed the back of her hair. “I just want to make sure I’m fulfilling my end of the agreement. Am I playing the part of an in-love newlywed enough?”
“I see.” He nodded, but she thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.
He stared at her for a moment, and Sydria wished she knew what was hidden behind his veiled expression. “It’s better now.”
Marx spun around, walking farther into the room. He stopped at the vanity, looking over the items left out. He glanced back at her as he picked up the orange vial containing the medicine her uncle had given her. “What’s this?”
“Medicine for my heart.” Part of her wanted to snatch the bottle out of his hand and shove it under her pillow. It was silly. Taking medicine didn’t make her a weak person, but for some reason, she was embarrassed.
He twisted off the top and lifted the dropper out, smelling the liquid inside. “Do you take this every day?”
“Yes.”
“What happens when you run out?”
Sydria shrugged. “My uncle said he’d bring me more.”
She watched as he put the lid back on and set the vial down on the vanity. “I’ve been looking into your uncle and your background.”
“And?” she asked, eager to find out something new about herself.
He leaned against the desk, crossing his feet out in front of him. “Who is Otis Sutton?”
