Page 29 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)

Killian

The Cursebringer of Revelry was in my castle, shouting at my people, and shedding his Goddessdamn feathers all over my foyer.

Despite my own personal diplomatic treatment of the arrival of the brother to the queen, Prince Korven managed to insult my entire kingdom as he demanded to see his sister immediately, threatening to ‘tear this castle down brick by fucking brick’ until she was produced.

But now, Korven and Morella argued in barely-contained whispers at the copper fountain in the grand foyer, both of their sets of wings flaring with equal intensity.

“Do you know what this is about?” Fedir whispered to me as we leaned against the far wall, giving the siblings space. I wasn’t going to give them privacy, though. Not when the Cursebringer was flailing his arms about so wildly with a range of fear in his eyes.

I shook my head at Fedir’s question, refusing to look away as Korven caught my glare before going back to arguing with his sister.

“It was a mistake!” she finally shouted, changing her harsh whisper into an echoing confession instead. She pointed back to me. “He has been helping me, Korven! I just forgot to add?—”

Her brother cut her off, storming closer to me, pointing his finger as well. “He could be threatening you even now, Morella. You said . You promised every letter you sent would include it and it’s not like you to simply forget?—”

It was her turn to cut him off as she followed his steps, smacking his arm down and away from my direction.

A smirk lifted my lips.

“I get to mess up sometimes!” she shouted. “I’m telling you, I was just distracted writing that letter and I—” Her eyes found mine. “I just forgot, alright? You’re acting like a Goddessdamn child!”

Korven laughed sardonically. “Oh, I’m acting like a child?

When you know how worried we’ve been for you here, and the one fucking thing, Morella— the one fucking thing you were supposed to add to every single letter, you just happened to forget?

Do you know how panicked we’ve been? Seraphine practically pushed my ass out the Goddessdamn door to get to you as soon as your letter?—”

I stepped forward casually, my hands sliding into my pockets. “You speak to the Queen of the Citrine Cliffs. You will apply respectful language when you discuss your matters with her.”

“Oh, fuck off.” His wings flung wide. “Who do you think taught her these words, hmm? She’s my sister and this is how we speak to each other so?—”

“And she is my—” I cleared my throat, adjusting my shoulders. “She is the queen of this kingdom and deserves your respect, regardless of what you’ve taught her.”

He glanced back to Morella before turning his full attention on me.

“Alright, King of the Citrine Cliffs,” he said mockingly.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, mimicking my stance.

I was much larger than the Cursebringer, though his height only slightly fell beneath mine. “Let’s discuss this civilly.”

“Let’s,” I agreed.

“My most beloved sister here claims that you are not mistreating her. She also informs me that you do not know of the pact we made before I brought her here to join you in marriage. Which is at least one thing she’s done right because she wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“If Queen Morella was not to speak to me of this pact, then of course she would not. She is most loyal to the people she loves, which appears to be you, your wife, and daughter.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” he grumbled.

“No, I should think that would be inappropriate.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” Morella muttered, followed by Fedir’s snicker and Korven’s tightly locked jaw.

“If you’ve forced your advances on my sister?—”

“I have not,” I interrupted.

He gave a curt nod. “Be thankful she has confirmed this.”

I peered over his shoulder and ridiculously sized wings. “Thank you, Morella, for informing your most charming brother that all of my advances have indeed been met with vigor.”

“This is not happening,” she groaned and I returned my attention to Korven, doing little to hide the smugness in my chest.

He ignored it and continued. “Morella is to consume thistle nuts each day to keep her strength. She has done this since she was ten years old. I have ensured she has had access to them every day of her life since then, including enough supply to last her the entire three months of your marriage before she could leave and return home. Every one of her letters was to contain the words ‘thistle nuts’ in some capacity to ensure to myself and my wife that she was being treated well here in this,”—he waved a hand around the grand foyer—“overly bedazzled castle.”

I huffed a laugh, nodding my understanding.

“However,” he continued, “her last letter was short. Clipped, and very unlike my sister, and what do you think it was missing?”

I glanced at her as she chewed her lip, her arms folded across her chest. I raised a brow and her face scrunched in her admittance to me that she indeed had forgotten to add this little secret to her last letter.

“Forgive me,” I sighed. “I’m afraid I know what distracted her so when she was last writing to her family.”

Korven frowned, giving me a quizzical brow.

I smiled—all teeth—and said, “It was my bare chest, you see.”

“Oh my fucking Goddess, Killian!” she yelled, storming to us.

Korven inched closer, his voice pure venom. “You think I give a shit if my sister finds you sexually appealing?”

Morella groaned again, stopping short.

He continued. “She can use you however she’d like—I really don’t care. But her health, her mental well-being, and her strength—those are mine to care for. She is my family, I love her, and I’ll be fucking Goddessdamned if she’s mistreated in any way here in this kingdom or otherwise.”

“We share this sentiment then,” I replied.

“She has not been mistreated even remotely as queen of this kingdom, nor in our marriage. Your concern is understandable, yet unnecessary. Your sister no longer needs thistle nuts. Her blood lacks the capacity to retain iron, and so, she now eats fuilhe and other iron-rich foods to keep her strength.”

His dark eyes widened and he turned to his sister.

She sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“ I’ve been trying to tell you . I’ve been more than taken care of here.

I’m stronger, Korven. The fuilhe is a blood meat they make from sheep.

I practice flying each day and look—” She spread her wings across her back, the golden tips glinting as they rose high above her head.

Korven’s face paled and his mouth parted. He walked slowly to her side, stepping around her span of feathers, pinching parts of her bone, inspecting them in silence.

Morella’s face beamed as her brother checked the adjustment, the balance, and the strength of her wings as he pushed down, trying to collapse them. Her strength held and she laughed lightly.

“I can fly much longer, too, in my shift,” she said softly, grabbing her brother’s hand.

“How long?” he asked.

“Almost an hour.”

A gargled sob left his chest. “An hour?”

She nodded, grinning ear to ear. I’d never seen her light up like this.

Her cheeks beamed as she took both of his hands.

“I don’t tire like I did before. I feel stronger.

I feel…powerful. I was going to tell you, but I wanted you to see for yourself when you came to visit—as a surprise.

” She nodded to Fedir. “He figured out it was the iron in my blood.”

Fedir held up both of his hands. “It wasn’t me, Your Majesty. King Killian read through our medical books until the early hours of the morning, searching for what might be your condition. I only confirmed his findings and set about researching which foods you should eat.”

Morella’s eyes pierced me then. I hadn’t told her it was me; I’d rather be left out of it.

Korven finally spoke again. “You’ve done this for my sister?”

I held her gaze, subduing my racing heart as she looked at me with…too much hope.

I nodded once, crossing my arms, unwilling to trust the steadiness of my voice.

The Cursebringer dropped her hands, storming the last few feet between us in a flash. I hadn’t time to react as he reached up, pulling me into an embrace. He slapped my back heartily, his arms tight around my shoulders.

I didn’t know what to do or how to respond.

“Thank you,” he said. He squeezed tighter. “Thank you for doing what I could not.”

My chest rumbled and I cleared my throat, my sanity hanging by a thread. I unclenched my arms, returning this unasked for hug, patting at his back gently.

I managed to reply, “You’re welcome,” before I caught Morella’s eyes on me as she swallowed hard and let the tear fall down her cheek.