Page 56 of A Queen's Game
The mid-afternoon heat only grew warmer, Marietta appreciating every drop of sweat she worked up as they walked. Never again would Keyain keep her trapped. She’d have to convince him it was alright for her to leave, especially under the watch of Amryth.
Marietta bent down to sniff a blue hyacinth, its perfume helping calm her. Mixed shapes and colors from the elaborate flower beds complemented one another, giving depth and dimension at each step. The sweet scent of freshly bloomed flowers filled the air as her mind eased itself.
The handmaid remained stiff as ever as she meandered the garden’s paths with Marietta. With eyes that were always alert, she scanned their vicinity and ensured no one was following them.
Marietta stopped to examine a statue covered in climbing ivy just off the path. With the vines pulled back, she found a feline face with the body roughly the size of a child. She smiled toherself, recognizing the creature—a malk. Her father used to tell stories of this feyrie creature hunting in packs. Out of curiosity, she stepped off the path, searching through the greenery. Sure enough, she found a second malk carved to be yawning. Sharp teeth lined its mouth, remembering that they used to tear into their prey with brutal bites. “Where did these statues even come from?” she asked, returning to the path with Amryth.
Beads of sweat dripped down Amryth’s forehead. “Not sure. They were always a part of the palace.” The handmaid rolled up the sleeves of her jacket that covered the dress she wore underneath.
“Take off your jacket if you’re warm. It feels nice to have the breeze on your skin.” Marietta held out her arms, tipping her head back to let the wind tousle her hair.
“No, it’s alright. I’m used to the heat.” Amryth quickly wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Oh, come on. Just take it off. Who would see if we’re avoiding people in the first place?” Marietta said.
Amryth stared, then rolled her eyes as she removed the jacket, revealing the well-sculpted bulk of her arms.
“Wow, you could make Keyain jealous,” Marietta teased.
Amryth laughed. “Oh, he wishes he had arms like mine.” A subtle flex showed that she was competition for Keyain.
“How do a handmaid’s arms make a great warrior jealous?” Marietta asked, teasing as they continued down the path.
“By training in my free time. I like to stay fit.”
A handmaid that exercised seemed odd. Perhaps that’s why Keyain had chosen her. Not only was she loyal to him, but Amryth could also protect Marietta—or subdue her. She frowned at the thought.
The honeyed voice of the Queen blew from down the path. “You’ve already ambushed me in the gardens. Why must you now pester me with questions?”
“Because she’s part of your court,” answered a deep voice. “You haven’t met with her after insisting I interrogate Keyain.”
Not having seen them yet, Marietta pulled Amryth off the path and under the limbs of the trees. The boughs, thick with leaves, hid them from sight.
“What are we doing?” Amryth hissed.
“I would rather not talk to them,” she said, gesturing in the direction of the Queen’s voice.
Amryth’s eyes followed her hand, nodding, and stood in the shadows with Marietta.
“She did nothing to suggest she knew.” Queen Valeriya appeared from around the corner, walking with an elven man.
As they approached, Marietta studied him. Slim bodied, but a wiry build, and his expression neutral with a wave of blue-black locks falling into his eyes. A flick of his head shifted his hair, revealing his face—haunted, with dark eyes marred by purple underneath; handsome, with a narrow chin and arched lips; mysterious, lacking any trace of emotion. The crown on his head revealed who he was. King Wyltam. Her husband’s best friend.
Marietta’s usual clients in Enomenos had been business owners. They had various levels of charm, personality, and charisma; but Marietta could read them all the same. Rarely would she encounter someone difficult to read, but it delighted her when she did. They were fun to pick apart, figuring out their personality and learning to read the subtle signs of their emotions. The King of Satiros would be such a puzzle—one Marietta knew she’d find thrilling to solve.
“Follow up on her today. I’m curious. Surely Keyain isn’t hiding any more information from his best friend,” the King drawled, his voice surprisingly deep and smoky.
“I’ll see if she’s available for tea this afternoon as soon as we get back.”
“Just demand her presence,” the King said, his demeanor remaining an air of disinterest as if nothing was with his full attention. That included his wife.
The Queen bristled at the response, not disguising her annoyance at his disrespect. “Of course, my loving husband,” she mocked, her lips pulled in a false smile.
As the King and Queen walked the path before them, Queen Valeriya’s eyes darted into the trees. Surprise lined her face when their eyes connected. “Let’s go sit near the pergola,” she added, ushering the King deeper into the garden.
Marietta didn’t dare breathe. She held up a hand to Amryth, having her refrain from moving until she was sure they moved farther down the path. After a moment, when they were out of sight, she left the hiding place.
“What was that about?” Amryth asked.
