Page 176 of A Queen's Game
“You’re the one stealing that information? I didn’t even think of that.” She paused for a moment before reaching for Marietta’s hands. “In Enomenos, they see you and Tilan as martyrs. If freedom isn’t what I can offer you today, then I will ensure your sacrifice is known.”
“Gods, I’m not dead, Grysella.”
“Not yet,” she said with a frown. “The game you’re playing is dangerous—the crown is dangerous. If they ever catch word of what you’re doing—”
“Then I’ll die. Yes, I know.” She paused, taking her friend’s hands. “But we need to go back out there and act as nothing happened.” Grysella held her a moment longer, then nodded.
It didn’t take long to cut the flatbread. Grysella opted for puff pastry as the base with crumbles of blue cheese, sliced fig, and the honey balsamic glaze across the top. Marietta’s dour mood left her less than ecstatic to try it. It felt wrong that people saw her as a martyr, all while sleeping with Keyain,
Four months had passed since Tilan’s death, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Her entire existence in Olkia seemed like a different life, and in many ways, it was. Though she would always love Tilan, always love her friends, she couldn’t shake the feeling that many people knew her proximity to the Exisotis. How many times had they lied to her? Hidden the truth?
A pit of shame sat in her stomach, growing harder as they returned to the bakery’s front when she saw Keyain, saw his anger. How did she stand being near him—gods, sleeping with him—after killing Tilan? After he ripped her away from everything and everyone? There she was, forgetting herself because he was a good lay and bought her fancy dresses. It was as if she suddenly woke up from a fevered dream.
Self-hate settled at her center, spoiling her mood. Through forced smiles and fake banter, she shared the flatbread with their group. Keyain kept glancing at Marietta and she kept up the charade of being okay, but somehow, he sensed something was wrong.
At that moment, she was fortunate for Elyse and Brynden’s presence. Keyain would never ask what happened in front of them, and she was glad to put off his questioning for as long as she could.
With a brief goodbye to Grysella, the group got back into the carriage and headed to dinner.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Valeriya
Wyltam was hiding more than just mages. That afternoon, after tea with Tryda, she returned to the suite, slamming the door to her room so Wyltam would think she paid him little attention. Instead, she hid in their shared living room, waiting to see what Wyltam does when he thought he was alone.
Not having been on a scouting mission since her days in Reyila, her legs ached from staying crouched behind the couch. Back when she still trained, she could sit unmoving for hours before the stiffness set into her limbs. With only twenty minutes passed, her knees begged for a new position as her feet felt like pins and needles. As she went to shift, the indistinct murmur of Wyltam’s voice carried from down the hall. Muffled, she inched closer to hear.
“Patrol the streets around the restaurant and watch the carriage,” Wyltam said. “I have Marietta and Elyse guarded; I’ll know if something goes wrong.”
Valeriya’s stomach sank. Remembering overhearing their conversation about going into the city, she was confused to whythey would need extra guards. Was there an attack on Marietta? Her heart stilled in her chest.
“Can do, sir,” said a throaty voice, so like Katya’s that it unnerved her. Her former lover kept creeping into her mind at the most unfortunate moments.
“Watch the Chorys Dasian. Make sure he doesn’t do anything too unexpected. They’re hiding something.” Wyltam paused. “You’re dismissed.”
Valeriya hurried to her hiding spot as she thought the visitor would exit, but no one left the room. Her mind raced. Wyltam was suspicious of Az and the fool was alone with Keyain. Gyrsh had reassured her the situation was covered. Who decided ‘having it covered’ meant leaving Az unsupervised with that group after the incident in the Central Garden?
Valeriya knew who just to ask.
After changing into a sleek black gown of silk and lace, the neckline dipping to her naval at the center, Valeriya made her way to the Noble’s Section. Someone needed to answer for the oversight on Az. Just how foolish were they to leave him alone?
Voices and silvery music carried into the hall from a common room, golden light from inside spilling onto the floor. On occasion she would join these get-togethers, reveling in the gossip and making the nobles sweat. Her favorite way to pass the time was toying with the noblemen. However, she wouldn’t do as such tonight; there were more important things to take care of.
A dozen light globes lit the common room, hanging above the groups of bodies with the cloying scent of floral perfume clotting the air. Nobles stood in clusters, drinking various shades of alcohol from crystal glasses. In the corner, she spotted her target encircled by the younger available females of court.
As she approached, swiping a glass of whiskey from a passing servant, her target caught her eye, his lips twitching down at the corners. He dressed in all black finery, one arm draped acrossa lady with long black hair. The other girls vied for Sylas’s attention, none more than a blonde at his shoulder.
Valeriya gave him a subtle nod as she walked past, not wishing to make it obvious to whom she needed to speak. Instead, she settled on an easier target, one who stopped flirting with a younger lady the moment she stepped into the room.
With his handsome-as-ever smile, Gyrsh approached Valeriya and offered a deep bow. “My Queen, what an honor for your unexpected presence this evening.”
“Hello Gyrsh,” she said, extending her hand. The minister brought his delicate lips to her knuckles before she snatched it back. “The evening grew too quiet for me, and it was between coming to this get-together or going out for a night in the city.” Unease flashed across his face before it settled back into his usual calm confidence.
“Then I’m lucky you chose this get-together.”
“Luckier than you understand,” she said with a fake smile. As tempted as she was to leave the palace and track the Az situation, she thought it’d be best to check in first. “Perhaps you could introduce me to some of your contacts from Chorys Dasi?” She let her gaze drift to Sylas, who still held his position with the group of ladies.
“Have you met Lord Sylas?” he asked, taking her arm, his shirt silky on her skin. “Quite a nice male.”
