Page 179 of A Queen's Game
Marietta shrugged with a smirk, eying Brynden, which caused Keyain’s jaw to clench so hard that Elyse thought histeeth would crack. Never had she seen him so on edge, yet Marietta seemed thrilled with herself.
By the time dessert came out, Keyain’s mood continued to sour, but he took it upon himself to fill the gap. He asked Brynden of Chorys Dasi, about his family and what part of the city-state he grew up in. Elyse bit back her irritation—it felt more like interrogating than civil chatter.
The server set slices of white cake before them, layered with cream and strawberry slices. Elyse’s bite melted on her tongue, the sweetness from the layers almost overwhelming.
“They added too much sugar for the filling,” Marietta murmured as she took a second bite. “If the baker would have tasted the strawberries first, they would’ve known how sweet their shipment was. Overall, not bad.”
“I have to ask,” Brynden said, drawing a glare from Keyain. “How does a noble lady know so much about baking? I’m ever so curious.”
Marietta shot a smirk at Keyain, then leaned in. “During my captivity, I learned to bake. Became an expert in my own right.”
“Ah, yes. The Exisotis captured you, hence why no one knew of Keyain’s half-elven wife,” Brynden said, furrowing his brows. “The humans have a weird way of treating their captives.”
Marietta opened her mouth, but Keyain snapped. “Enough, Marietta. Learn to keep quiet for once.”
Keyain’s raised tone panicked Elyse, staring at him with wide eyes. His behavior was so odd compared to his calm and collected demeanor. The only time she’d seen him snap was during his fight with Brynden in the Central Garden.
Brynden sat back, regarding Keyain. “A husband must never speak to his wife in such a manner.”
Marietta batted a hand in Keyain’s direction, earning a glare from him. “Keyain just gets grumpy when I enjoy myself. Despite his hostility today, he had his moments of rowdinessback in the day. Would you believe I got him to dance on a table at a tavern in Avato?”
Elyse cocked her head at Keyain, trying to imagine him dancing at a tavern, let alone on a table.
“Mar,” he warned, gripping his glass.
“It took quite a bit of alcohol, but sure enough, he got up on the table with the locals. Do you remember how much they could drink, Keyain? Gods, that’s how we even convinced you to drink so much—you felt like it was a competition.”
Keyain’s tongue ran over his teeth as he looked out over the city, ignoring Marietta. Beside Elyse, Brynden leaned in with fascination.
“If you don’t remember that, then perhaps you recall the time that chatty bard wouldn’t stop following us as we traveled from Rotamu to Kentro? You feigned falling in love with him, and we had a pretend lover’s spat that got him to leave. Gods, what was his name?”
Keyain sighed, sitting back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “I don’t remember, but you only referred to him as Bard-tholomew.”
Marietta grinned, laughing. “Yes, one of my better nicknames.”
“I hated him and his awful singing,” Keyain muttered, looking back at Marietta. “From the bottom of my heart, I hope his career was short-lived.”
“He was a lousy singer and an even lousier travel companion.”
“I didn’t realize you two traveled so much together,” Elyse said, laughing. “And that you two lived such an adventurous life.” And she was envious of that, never given the opportunity to meet rogue travelers and dance on tables.
“Yes, funny how that is.” Brynden leaned back, removing his hand from her thigh to hook it across her shoulders. “Whatever caused you guys to stop? Was it marriage?”
The amusement in Keyain’s expression faded, his icy gaze turning towards the city. “Not something we can disclose.”
Marietta’s hand struck out to Elyse’s arm from across the table. “We should go to a tavern tonight!”
“Mar, no,” Keyain said with a sigh. “It’s neither a good nor a safe idea for you to be out in the city.”
“But it’ll be just like the old days,” she said, patting his arm. Gods, that was their first contact since the carriage ride.
“Actually,” Brynden said with uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice. “I would like to walk along the river with Elyse. Alone, if possible.”
Elyse caught his stare, heat growing on her face. Not for the romantic gesture, but for the inevitable end to their night—the breaking of their hearts.
“First poetic letters, now romantic walks along the river? You are quite the dreamy man, Brynden,” Marietta purred with a flick of her brows.
“Satiros might be a safe city-state, but we are at war,” Keyain said, frowning. “It wouldn’t be safe now that the sun had set.”
