Page 246 of A Queen's Game
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Marietta
One moment, Marietta watched the sea of people riot outside the gates. The next, Queen Valeriya had grabbed her and turned her away from the crowd. There was an impact, the shock of electrical energy, and the heaviness of the Queen collapsing against her. She turned to see her face down with blood beginning to pool around her, the crackling energy seizing her form. Then someone jumped on top of her, pinning her to the ground.
Through her screaming, Wyltam’s voice broke through. He cupped her face as a translucent dome formed around them. “Marietta!” he yelled, pulling her attention. “Marietta, are you hurt?” His dark eyes were frantic as he searched her body for an injury.
Outside the palace walls, screams of terror erupted, muffled by the surrounding dome.
“Marietta, please focus,” pleaded the King. He brushed back her hair with shaking hands.
Instead, she jerked her head towards Valeriya. She could do something—Marietta could help, but only if she hurried. She scrambled to Valeriya, calling forth Therypon’s energy, thewarmth growing at her fingertips. With a sobbing cry, she lay her hands on Valeriya. The bleeding slowed, yet she didn’t stir.
Gods, Therypon, help her. Help her save the Queen.
Marietta screamed as she pulled the energy from under her skin, as she pulled it from around her body. There was a rush of power that bucked against her control, but obeyed her will as she laid her hands on Valeriya. Blinding light emitted from her fingertips, her vision seeing nothing but the shadowed outline of the Queen. She trembled with the effort, crying as her skin felt flayed from her body. Marietta forced herself to accept the energy—to expel it into Valeriya. The light shot outward and behind her, the King crying out.
Blackness ebbed the edges of Marietta’s vision, but she continued to flood Therypon’s healing into her. It wasn’t too late—she could save her. Valeriya could live.
Sharp metal bit her arm and the energy she pulled suddenly stopped filling her. Exhaustion seized her mind as the last of the power depleted. Through her haze, she saw Keyain as she slumped backward.
King Wyltam appeared before her, eyes wide in awe as he cupped her face. “What are you?” he whispered.
And then there was nothing.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Elyse
The past day passed in a haze of events. When she first woke, Wynn held her head in his lap, talking to the half-elf female with black hair. “You’re leaving then?” Wynn’s voice rumbled through her.
“I am,” the half-elf said.
“For good?”
“Most likely, until it’s safe again.”
There was a moment of silence, then Wynn said, “I’m sure we’ll cross paths.”
“We will if you’re ever in Enomenos.”
Elyse faded out, her mind growing fuzzy. The left side of her head throbbed with the bright light arcing across her field of vision. What a time for her head pains to return. At one point, she was certain she vomited, remembering spitting the bile from her mouth.
When she woke again, she rested on her side and her body stiff from sleeping on a couch. Slowly, she sat up and held her head. What happened? And where was she?
She looked up, finding a dark-haired child staring at her. Elyse blinked, registering Prince Mycaub’s face, before scanning the rest of her surroundings. The room was cozy but ornate withwainscoting on the walls, plush carpet on the floor, and elegant furniture. She turned back to the Prince, who half hid behind the arm of the couch. “Hello?”
He said nothing, and continued to stare before running away. Gods, was she in the Royal Suite?
“You’re awake.”
She turned to find Wynn leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. A smile touched his lips despite the wariness in his expression. “What happened?” Elyse asked.
He pushed off the wall and walked to her, offering a hand. “Wyltam would like to be the one to explain.”
Elyse hesitated, then nodded her head. The King wanted to explain—explain what? Her vision swam as she stood, gripping Wynn’s arm for support.
“You alright?”
