Page 11 of The Shattered Kingdom (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

KIERAN

EARLY MORNING SUNLIGHT shines through my office window. Several people are walking through the courtyard, heading toward the front entrance of the long building where most offices are located. Mine included.

I frown, shifting my attention to my oak desk.

Lillian wasn’t lying. Every bit of her story checks out, even the tiny details I was convinced were too ridiculous to be true.

We went as far as to test the blood from one of her discarded bandages, and sure enough, hints of delysum were found mixed within her blood.

I flip through page after page of the toxicology report, reading every sentence in excruciating detail. I was pleased to see it waiting for me on my desk this morning, but my stomach has since dropped.

I can’t fathom why. I should be relieved to discover my mate is being truthful with me, that she had no intentional part in my father’s death. Who did, then? Probably Callie, but I have no leads to her whereabouts.

Lillian claims she’s dead, and Abby’s parents confirmed that. The missing person reports they’ve recently filed for Abby and Lillian contained all the information we needed, and the faerie who impersonated an investigator and spoke with them found nothing suspicious.

Callie died, or vanished, almost ten years ago. Abby’s parents raised Lillian, and she’s grown progressively sicker with each passing year.

The deadly side effects of delysum have been well established, and I’m surprised Callie took the risk of drinking it.

Even when the leaves are steeped and their potency diminished, the plant still reacts too violently with existing magic.

Lillian only survived because there was none in the human realm.

Why remain with the humans, though? If what Lillian says is true, she had no reason not to return once her mother died.

She’s hiding something from us, and I can’t fathom what it could be.

I’ve been flirting with the possibility that Callie is still alive, but I’m trying to trust Lillian.

She insists her mother is dead, and I want to believe her.

We’re mates, and that has to mean something. I have to make it mean something, even if instinct tells me not to trust it.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

I reorganize the toxicology report, then tuck it into the folder where I keep all my files on Lillian. “Come in.”

Mason comes sauntering inside. He wasn’t in his bedroom this morning, and I suspect he chose to sleep on the couch in the guest house where Lillian and Abby are staying.

“Somebody wishes to see you,” he says, stepping aside to reveal Abby.

Oh? And he chose to escort her himself? When did Mason become the human’s personal bodyguard?

Abby purses her lips, her eyes flickering around my office.

The space is bland, and I can tell she’s judging it.

My desk faces the door, and behind me are shelves filled with decorative books I’ve never read.

There’s a long table along the right side of the room for when I hold private meetings, but the surface is empty.

Mason welcomes himself to my things, and he fingers through the paperwork on my desk before snatching up Lillian’s report. Abby awkwardly lingers in the doorway.

I have to meet with my mother and Anox in fifteen minutes, and I glance at the clock on the corner of my desk to confirm the time.

“What can I help you with?” I ask.

“I’d like to go home,” Abby says. “When can I leave?”

I lace my fingers together and rest my hands on my desk. “We’d like you to remain here until we confirm Lillian’s story.”

Mason pauses, his movements stilling. He’s already put two and two together that Lillian’s story has checked out and I’m lying to Abby. I wait for him to contradict me, but he doesn’t.

“If this is because of Jackie’s behavior in the bathing house…” I start.

Abby’s eyes narrow, the human silently daring me to continue.

I clear my throat instead, letting the rest of my sentence die out.

I shouldn’t acknowledge it. Jackie was out of line, and I’ve already had her removed from the estate.

Her open access has been revoked, and she can only enter on business.

“I’m asking to return home because my family loves and misses me. Lill and I already discussed this, and she agreed it would be best if I returned home. I don’t belong here.”

Abby chews at the dead skin on her bottom lip. She needs to drink more water.

“Am I a prisoner, then?” Abby blurts out.

I blink. Does she think she’s a prisoner? I haven’t offered to send her home, but I’ve been under the impression that she wants to be here. She’s protective of Lillian, and she hasn’t mentioned anything about returning to the human realm before today.

“Of course not,” I say. “I’ll have a portal readied for you as soon as we confirm Lillian’s claims.”

“And when will that be?” Mason asks. He’s taunting me.

I clench my jaw. “Soon.”

I won’t force Abby to stay, not when she has a life in the human realm she wishes to return to.

It’s probably dull and monotonous, but it’s hers.

I just wish to re-read the report and discuss the findings with my mother and Anox before making any decisions.

I’m thorough, a trait Mason could stand to pick up.

I eye the bodice of Abby’s dress as Mason resumes flicking through Lillian’s file. I’ve asked for a small handful of garments to be delivered to her and Lillian, and today, Abby chose a summery, white dress. The sleeves are thin, and the fabric hugs her chest and torso before flaring at the waist.

It complements her shape.

Abby’s brown eyes narrow, and I look away before she says something snarky.

I’ve never known somebody with brown eyes, and it’s quite exciting.

The men of court have also noticed, if Lord Bishop’s reports are anything to go by.

He was discussing her during the council meeting yesterday, happily sharing the details being spread about her.

People suspect we found her in the forest and brought her here out of pity. Some believe her to be secretly working for the shifters, but most don’t agree. They don’t think a human is capable of that.

“Do you intend to join the meeting this morning?” I ask Mason. “We’re looking to discuss your coronation.”

The coronation that’s taking place tomorrow afternoon. We’re announcing it later this morning, and I anticipate our statement will be met with a healthy amount of panic and outrage. We can’t put it off any longer, though.

“I’m leaving now,” Abby decides. “Let me know when you’re ready to send me home. ”

She brushes her hands down her dress before spinning toward the door. Faeries wait until I excuse them, and I can’t help but smile at Abby’s rudeness. She’d make a terrible faerie.

Mason worries his bottom lip between his teeth, his gaze darting between me and Abby. The human takes notice.

“I remember how to get back,” she says. “I’ll make a right at the courtyard, and when I can’t go straight any longer, I’ll turn right again.”

Mason frowns, and Abby looks pleased with herself as she throws her hair back and storms out of the room. She slams the door shut behind her, which I think is an attempt to anger Mason. It doesn’t work.

“Why did you lie to her?” he asks.

I shrug. “I had my men look into Lillian’s claims, and they found that—”

Mason lifts his arm, showcasing the file he’s been flipping through. “I can read. Lilly’s been drinking delysum to stay alive, and Abby’s parents have confirmed that Callie died several years ago. Lilly is telling the truth.”

He sets the file down, his fingers brushing against the top drawer of my desk as he pulls away.

I twitch. It’s a slight movement, one I shouldn’t have made.

Mason’s too perceptive, and I know I’ve been caught when he cocks his head to the side.

His eyes roam over my face, but I keep my expression neutral.

“What’s in there?” His voice is heavy with accusation.

I blink. “Nothing.”

Mason lunges. I dart forward, trying to stop him, but he’s already ripping open my top drawer. The wood splinters, and everything falls to the floor.

The tiara I stole from Abby’s bedroom snaps as it lands on the ground, and the peanut container she used in the woods falls alongside it.

I ignore both as I reach for the red fabric hidden in the back of the drawer.

Mason reaches it first. I doubt he even realizes what it is, but it’s red and I was going for it. That’s enough for him.

Shame warms my cheeks as I snatch the fabric out of his hand.

“Don’t touch my things,” I snap.

Mason stares at my hands for a long moment before meeting my gaze. His pupils are fully expanded and his shoulders are quivering, both telltale signs that he’s holding back a shift. He knows what the red fabric is, and it’s not hard to guess to whom it belongs.

It was hidden with Abby’s tiara and peanut container.

I adjust, placing myself between him and the door. Hoarding Abby’s things is a betrayal to our mate, and I’m fully prepared to physically stop Mason from running to Lillian with the truth. I intend to dispose of these objects. I just haven’t gotten around to it.

Mason holds out his hand. “Give them to me.”

I shake my head. That’s not going to happen.

“It’s not right,” Mason continues. “It’s a gross invasion of Abby’s privacy, especially after what we did to her in that forest. Give. Them. To. Me.”

I tense, beyond annoyed. I didn’t expect Mason to take this side of the argument, and I don’t have a good response. I thought he’d be angry on Lillian’s behalf, not Abby’s. I shift my weight, debating the consequences of keeping Abby’s underwear.

Mason’s judging me, but I don’t care what he thinks of me.

I’m too busy trying to keep the entire faerie kingdom from crumbling.

I do care what Abby thinks of me, though.

I never wanted to give her to Zaha, nor did I want to do all the other things I felt I had no choice but to do in the forest. I took her free will, and I haven’t even apologized for it. I’m not sure where to start.

I slide the underwear between my fingers, then drop it into Mason’s outstretched hand.

Mason shoves them into his back pocket. “I’ll dispose of them.”

I shouldn’t have stolen them in the first place. It’s below my station to do something so depraved, especially to a human. I was having fun looking through her bedroom, and I stole them thinking I’d leave her in the human realm and never see her again. I wanted a memento.

I clear my throat. “Our meeting is in five minutes. Your coronation is tomorrow morning, and we should—"

Mason shakes his head. “I’m already up to speed, and I have things to do. You can handle this without me.”

He leaves the room in a flurry, and I want to pull my fucking hair out.