Page 97 of A Queen's Game
Two woman guards approached them as they neared a set of doors, but Amryth shrugged them off, saying Marietta was a new recruit in training. The excuse seemed good enough for them.
Outside the garrison, the surrounding wall stretched to both sides farther than Marietta could see. Guards stationed at the gate, swords at their hips and papers in their hands, waved them through as Amryth approached. As they stepped onto the sidewalk next to the cobblestone street, she sighed and picked up her pace.
If the hallways filled with guards were overwhelming to her senses, then the city was an assault. Crowds of people packed the walkways, calling to one another over the ambient sound of the city. Marietta gripped the back of Amryth’s armor as they wovetheir way through, growing dizzy at the bodies pressed in around them.
How funny that a few months in confinement had changed Marietta. Just three months prior, she could walk into a crowd and control it at will, make a friend or two in the process. But after the quiet loneliness of the suite, her heart rammed into her ribs, and her grip grew sweaty, holding onto Amryth.
A horseless carriage rolled by, and Marietta almost lost Amryth as she gawked. There were no horses—or any other animal—pulling it, right? Or had she lost her gods damned mind?
White buildings laced with greenery loomed over them as they ventured deeper into the city. Nestled between the structures were pockets of trees surrounded by neat fencing. Marietta craned her head to catch a glimpse of a statue, but they didn’t stop. Instead, they turned down a narrow side street.
Overhead, purple wisteria draped between the tall buildings, blocking a portion of the misty weather that fell. Fewer people patrolled the side street, making it easier for Amryth to navigate. She turned for a moment, her eyes still looking forward. “Not too much farther now.”
The street opened up to a wide avenue, which they quickly crossed, dodging another horseless carriage. At the head sat a man, hands held in front of him and eyes focused in the direction he traveled. Though confused, Marietta was happy she didn’t mistake the earlier carriage. Perhaps she wasn’t losing her mind after all.
The rain started to fall steadily as they turned down another street. Marietta gasped as she saw the temples, all columned with steps climbing from their raised landing down to the circular street. Through gaps in the crowd, she glimpsed a temple of red-veined marble with vibrant crimson bannershanging between ornate columns. The one across from it was of taupe stone and gray banners.
The color of the temples pulled at her memory, reminding her of the temple districts found in Enomenos. Though she had friends in the temples, she never remembered which god or goddess belonged to which color. Her parents never joined a temple, so Marietta grew up without knowing much about them. As she grew older, her friends had shared more details, but she never had a reason to practice. Even as some of the colors tugged at her memory, nothing surfaced.
Statues dotted the fronts of each temple, the ones from the black stoned temple being the most notable. At street level, they passed a carved man crying out in pain as he gripped his chest. The temples in Enomenos didn’t have those.
Amryth led her to where the crowd was thickest. Marietta caught the gaze of a smiling woman in a yellow tunic, breath catching when she saw her ears. A blunted arch like her own. A half-elf in Satiros—someone like her.
They approached a temple of white stone, columned with cerulean banners, marked with a black serpent, hanging beneath a relief depicting a brutal fighting scene. Cypress bushes and other greenery broke up the stone steps and building, dressing the white stone in bright shades of green. Before the entrance, towering above her there was a statue of a woman nearly as tall as three men. The relaxed face had a slight smile on her full lips. A wide nose sat beneath large, rounded eyes, and a hand extended out before her, beckoning to Marietta. With her gaze locked onto the statue, Marietta nearly tripped going up the steps, but Amryth caught her.
The statue’s eyes seemed to follow her, call to her. They were gentle, kind, yet realistic and showed the pain she felt.
Beyond the columns, at the top of the stairs, was a double set of opened doors. A dark-skinned man in a blue tunic andsilvered armor stood to the side laughing with a man in plain clothes. Scruff lined his face, thinner than what grew on a human, but the presence of facial hair was enough of a clue—he was a half-elf, the second she’d seen in Satiros. Marietta met his gaze as they walked through, his smile dropping with a look of shock.
Amryth held up her hand. Less a hello and more a warning. “Later,” was all she offered as she pulled Marietta into the building.
Ornate statues lined the antechamber to either side, the space wide and open. Scenes of people receiving healing lined one wall, scenes of people screaming in pain lined the other.
Amryth guided her down the bright hallway, passing more attendants in bright blue, some robed, others donning a tunic, and a few in armor, like the man out front. The deeper they went, the stronger the scent of eucalyptus and peppermint grew.
The hall ended in a towering room, benches lining the space with people sitting in silent prayer. They all faced the altar at the front of the room. A statue that matched the figure out front towered above them, her face the same. However, inside the temple, she knelt on one knee with waves of hair flowing away from her body and her hand extended to lie flush with the ground. A person in the same blue as the others occupied the hand, kneeling before the statue.
Amryth pulled Marietta to an unoccupied bench. They sat among the worshippers, who remained quiet with their heads tilted to the ceiling. Marietta followed their gaze, finding a window high above splattered with rain and the gray clouds beyond it.
“Have you ever prayed at a temple?” Amryth asked, keeping her voice below a whisper. Though people filled the room, it remained silent besides the soft pattering of walking and the occasional sniffle.
“No,” she whispered. Many of her friends in Enomenos were followers of the gods, but she never bothered. She lived a fortunate enough life that there was never a need to seek them out.
“Relax your shoulders, place your feet firmly on the ground, and set your hands palm-side up on your thighs to accept the goddess.” Amryth took up the seated stance. “When in position,” she whispered, “close your eyes and tilt your head toward the ceiling. Try to empty your mind. Reach out to the goddess, and she will help you.”
Marietta nodded again, settling herself onto the bench and following Amryth’s instructions. With her eyes closed, every breath became noticeable, every scuffle of feet, clearing of throats. All the sounds were louder than the silence she had experienced for days.
Keyain would be furious if he found out she had left. She sighed, shaking her head as she sat on the uncomfortable bench, shifting from side to side. After all the anticipation for the temple, now that she was there, anxiety squeezed her chest. It begged her to hurry, urging her to return to the suite. Keyain’s wrath wasn’t something she wanted to experience. When anger took him, he lost all rational thought. He had smashed glasses, punched walls, ripped the curtains from the windows. There were a handful of inns in Enomenos she couldn’t show her face at anymore because of him.
Would he take his wrath out on Amryth? Or would the King protect her since she was following the law, preventing one from being broken? She lifted a lid to stare at Amryth, her stoic face calm as she sat with closed eyes. She risked her position for Marietta—risked her livelihood so she could be here.
“Acknowledge that your mind is wandering,” she muttered. “Then dismiss the thoughts and try again. Think of nothing, of no one.”
Marietta closed her eye once more with a sigh. How could she think of nothing? There was always something on her mind.
Yet she tried, the effort fruitless. She’d clear her thoughts, focus on the dark of her lids, the breathing in her chest, but then thoughts crept in. Taking Amryth’s advice, she acknowledged her mind wandering, then brought it back to nothing.
The cycle continued, Marietta’s breath growing deep, the tension in her shoulders easing. At one point, there was nothing—no thoughts, no emotion. There were only her breaths, the black of her eyelids, and the presence of a goddess watching over her.
