Page 51 of The Shattered Kingdom (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

ABBY

KIE GUIDES ME forward, his pace so fast, I’m left with no choice but to jog to keep up. He’s convinced my parents will be upset we’re late, but they aren’t like Queen Gitta. They won’t care.

Mom opens the door with a smile. Her eyes dart between Kie and me as she steps aside and gestures for us to enter. My family has taken one trip back to the human realm to tie up loose ends and make sure nobody thinks they’ve gone missing, but they plan to make a permanent move soon. I’m ecstatic.

“Come on in!” Mom says. “You don’t need to knock, Kie.”

Kie grunts and steps past her, but not before I spot his smile. It’s soft, maybe even a bit shy, and he does his best to hide it. He’s unsuccessful.

Dad’s on the couch in the living room, fully engrossed in a book on trolls. His guard brought him to the Bellmere library the other day, and he’s taken full advantage. Beside the couch, stacked from the ground to his knee, is a pile of books he must have brought back with him.

“Morning,” Dad says, not bothering to look up.

I sit in the oversized chair opposite him, and Kie lingers in the center of the room.

He won’t appreciate my guidance, so I remain silent as he looks around, trying to figure out his next move.

Eventually, much to my relief, he decides to sit with me.

He plucks me off the chair before taking the seat and placing me on his lap.

The front door opens again, and I perk up as Mason strolls inside. That didn’t take long at all.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says.

He awkwardly shuffles up to my mother, stiffly accepting the quick hug she offers. He claims to hate it, but the flush that spreads up his cheeks and neck says otherwise. He likes the affection.

A door in the hallway slams shut, and Aaron comes bounding into the living room a second later. His smile falls when he sees Mason.

“Where’s Kie?”

“Kieran,” Mason corrects him. He points toward Kie and me, alerting Aaron of our presence in the corner of the room. “His name is Kieran. You may call him Your Highness .”

I shoot Mason a glare. “Be. Nice.”

Aaron and I have always been mean to one another—it’s how we choose to express our love—but Mason has difficulty understanding it. He met my brother with a grudge, one Aaron immediately clocked and decided to aggravate further.

He goes out of his way to make Mason angry, and he’s not subtle about it. He’s yet to realize how easy it would be for Mason to kill him.

“Yeah, Mace ,” Aaron says, walking into the kitchen. “Be nice to me. You don’t want to get on Abby’s bad side.”

Mason stiffens, and I sigh. “Do not call me that.”

Aaron turns, giving Mason his full attention. “Mace. Mace. Mace. Ma—”

I drag a hand down my face. Aaron’s already screaming by the time I reopen my eyes. Mason has Aaron pinned to the ground, smashing his face into the rug with a loud, taunting laugh. It looks rough, but Mason’s being gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt my brother. He just wants Aaron to know he could.

Dad looks up, his eyebrows raised, before returning to his book.

“I should break your skull,” Mason threatens. “I should crush it here on this fucking rug.”

Dad flips to the next page. Aaron screams something about his arm breaking, which I can very clearly see is a gross exaggeration. Mason’s barely touching him, and he even shifts to ensure he isn’t hurting my brother—only humiliating him.

Mom sighs. “That’s enough, you two. Help me set the table.”

Mason releases my brother, who immediately scampers off the ground with an angry scowl. I can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching him receive the treatment he forced me to endure for most of our childhood.

“That was hardly fair,” Aaron says, tugging down the ends of his shirt.

He strolls out of the room, but his gaze continually darts toward Mason as he carries plates to the dining table. He’s on edge, waiting for my mate to attack. I’m happy to see it. It’s what he deserves.

Mason follows Aaron into the dining room, looking around like he isn’t quite sure how to help. I’m about to offer a suggestion when he leans down and whispers something into Aaron’s ear. I can’t fathom what it might be, especially when my brother barks out a loud laugh and hands over the plates.

“On the table,” he instructs.

Mom frowns. “Don’t pawn off your chores.”

“He threatened to tear out my throat if I didn’t hand him the plates,” Aaron argues. “Seems I don’t have much of a choice.”

Mason doesn’t bother denying Aaron’s accusation, too busy setting the table. I’m glad he’s found something to keep himself busy, even if it involved threatening to murder my brother.

Mom finishes preparing food, which really just means cutting up a bunch of fruit, cheese, and bread. Mason and Kie ensured all of my family’s meals are taken care of, saving my parents the effort of cooking.

I suspect Mom likes the normalcy of cooking, though.

I sit at the table between Kie and Mason, biting back a smile as they each drop a hand to my lap.

“Have you heard back from your father?” Mom asks Mason, trying to start a conversation. “I overheard two women discussing him earlier today. They seemed quite passionate about the topic.”

As it turns out, the faeries are passionate about many things. Most of them are relieved that the longstanding peace treaty has been dissolved. They’re looking for any excuse to fight.

Mason grimaces. “It’s not something I can discuss outside the council.”

“I understand.” Mom purses her lips. “What’d you two get up to this morning, then?”

“We can’t discuss that, either,” Kie says at the exact moment I say, “We met with the council.”

He runs his thumb along my thigh, the gentle touch soothing me before I have the chance to regret saying the wrong thing. I’m still getting used to this.

“Did you two enjoy the theatre last night?” Kie asks, smoothly changing the subject. “I’m sorry we couldn’t attend, but we try not to leave the grounds.”

My mom opens her mouth, but her answer is cut short as Dad clears his throat, drawing attention.

Mom makes a quiet, annoyed sound in the back of her throat, as if she already knows what’s on Dad’s mind and disapproves.

He ignores it, too busy glancing at the ever-growing pile of books near the couch.

He has something to say, and he folds his hands together before blowing out a long breath and speaking up. “The librarian wouldn’t let me take out a book on plants. Why?”

Kie’s chest bounces with laughter. Mom glares at Dad. She must have told him not to bring this up.

“We’ve recently learned some valuable information on an invasive plant, delysum, so I ordered our scholars to review our existing research for a few other plants,” Kie explains.

“They reserved several books, and while you’re free to read them in the library, they must remain available for research. ”

Dad nods, seemingly finding that excuse acceptable. “Well, can you tell me when they’re available to take home? The library chairs hurt my back.”

I open my mouth, prepared to tell Dad that Kie has more important things to do than sit around monitoring some random books, but Kie’s sudden grip on my thigh stops me.

“I will,” he says. He’s as much of a suck-up as Mason.

“What are your plans for this afternoon?” I direct my question toward Aaron.

“I’m heading into Bellmere,” he says. “My guards say there’s a popular, invite-only restaurant that’s next to impossible to get into. We’re going to use Kie’s name to get in. Then we’re going to visit a brothel near—”

“ Aaron !” Mom hisses. “We’re eating.”

Aaron shrugs. “She asked. I answered.”

“What brothel?” It’s Mason who asks.

Kie’s fingers, which have been tracing mindless patterns into the top of my thigh, still. I shove a piece of bread into my mouth, giving Mason my complete and undivided attention. I’ve heard all about his extensive history with brothels.

Is he going to suggest my brother visit a specific location or a particular woman? I like to think of myself as a relatively rational person, but I might lose my mind if Mason gives him a location and a name.

I know who I am, and I’ll obsess. What made her so memorable that she’s worth recommending to other men? Does Mason still think about her? Does he try to replicate those memorable things with me? Do I live up to the memory? I’ll kill him.

Aaron glances between Mason and me, his eyebrows furrowed, before answering. “I’ve heard a few things about The Underground.”

Mason’s eyes dart toward me. “Don’t go there.

Faeries have superior immune systems, and we don’t know how sexual illnesses manifest in humans.

Something that takes a faerie a day or two to heal from might be enough to kill you.

There are several establishments where the women are regularly tested and always wear protection. I’ll give you a list later.”

Kie’s fingers resume stroking my thigh, but it’s slower than before. Mom and Dad share a glance, and Aaron awkwardly bobs his head. I’m not sure how I feel. I suppose I’m glad Mason’s looking out for my brother, but I don’t enjoy the reminder that his entire sexual history is with sex workers.

Experienced sex workers.

“What about you, Mom?” I ask, eager to move away from the topic of brothels. “Any fun plans?”

“You seem to know a lot about brothels,” Dad says, ignoring my attempt to change the subject. He sets down his fork, leveling his expression with Mason. “Have you spent a lot of time in them?”

Mason licks his lips, his back straightening. It’s a far cry from the timid posture he usually uses around my parents, and I realize he’s bothered by the question.

“Yes,” Mason says. “I have.” There’s a brief moment of silence before he continues. “I am a thirty-year-old man surrounded by noblewomen faeries who either want to see me dead or wish to get pregnant and force a marriage. Brothels were my only option. Is that a problem for you?”

My dad’s face grows red.

“Drop it.” Mom’s pointed words are aimed at my dad. I sink into my seat. She turns back to Mason. “My husband and his friends worked through my sorority like it was their life’s mission, so he knows better than to judge.”

Aaron smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, Dad. You were a real whore, weren’t you? I faintly recall overhearing a story about you and Mom’s second cousin.”

Mason’s fists are clenching and unclenching, and I place my hand over the one closest to me. I’m not upset, not really. Faeries and shifters are significantly more open to the topic of sex, and Mason was trying to help Aaron. He just went about it in the most uncomfortable way possible.

Mom hums. “First cousin, actually. Shall we talk about that, honey?” My dad’s mouth opens. Mom continues. “I mean, if we want to question others about their sexual history at the dinner table, it’s only fair we discuss yours, too.”

Dad, whom I honestly think should be used to getting ganged up on at this point in his life, retreats. He carries his empty dish into the kitchen, and he glowers at us as he dumps it into the sink.

“I would like it to be known that I never had sex with your mother’s cousin,” he says. “And I don’t appreciate the lies you three are keen to spread about me. I am a pure, innocent man.”

Mason huffs. “So am I.”

It’s a well-timed joke, and I can practically feel the tension fade as a loud, deep laugh bellows out of Dad’s chest. Even Mason relaxes, his shoulders softening and his harsh breathing evening out.

This whole family thing is going to take a while to adjust to, but I think we’re getting off to a good start.