Page 7 of The Shattered Kingdom (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

Mason leads us down several long, outdoor walkways. They’re beautiful, and I want to touch every flower and fancy decorative item we pass. If Mason weren’t here, I probably would.

“Shouldn’t there be guards with us?” I ask, interrupting their conversation.

It’s not much of a conversation, anyway. Lill is doing about ninety-nine percent of the talking, and Mason is chiming in only occasionally with a grunt or one-word answer. I’m surprised Lill is still trying. I sure wouldn’t be if I were in her position.

Mason slows as I speak, his long stride shortening just slightly. I’m relieved, and I take the opportunity to catch my breath. There aren’t many people out and about this morning, probably because it’s still early, but we’re never entirely alone.

As a prince and the soon-to-be crowned king, shouldn’t Mason have a bodyguard? Lill and I sure won’t be of much assistance in an assassination attempt.

“Guards… with us? Why?” Mason spares me a glance over his shoulder. “The front gates are heavily monitored, and guards wander about. The property is safe, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

Is it, though? I’m not concerned about strangers attacking us. I’m worried about the faeries who are allowed inside doing so. They hate Mason, they don’t know Lill, and I’m nothing more than a human pet to be kicked aside.

“If you head left, you’ll find offices and assembly buildings,” Mason says, moving away from the topic of guards. “They aren’t of any interest to you.”

Who’s he to say that? They could be. I stare at the trellis above me, mesmerized by the thousands of butterflies fluttering around the vining flowers as I follow Lill and Mason around the corner.

We’re heading to the right, away from the offices and assembly buildings, and I let out a quiet yelp as I barely avoid barreling into a man .

He smoothly sidesteps me, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he extends a hand. I think it’s to help steady me, but I recover before he makes contact.

“My apologies,” he starts. “I wasn’t looking where I was walking. Are you—”

“Back away from the human.”

Mason is between me and the faerie a heartbeat later, his back to me as he glares down at the faerie I almost steamrolled into.

It’s overly aggressive, and I scrunch my nose in disgust as I shift my gaze toward Lill.

I want her to see this, want her to see how unnecessarily aggressive the shifter is. She’s already looking. Good.

The faerie male steps away from Mason, his gaze darting between me and the shifter. “My apologies. It was an accident.” He scurries away, not looking back.

I wait until he’s out of sight before speaking. “That was uncalled for.”

Mason spins, and it takes all my strength not to flinch as his anger directs itself toward me.

“He wasn’t wearing gloves, and he was fully intending to touch your arm.

You humans may go around touching everything and everybody, but it’s considered impolite here.

He was taking advantage of your ignorance. ”

Mason retreats a second later, returning to Lill.

I glare at his back, grudgingly following behind. I’m not ignorant.

We make another sharp right, emerging in a giant field. It stretches as far as I can see, and it’s carefully maintained. Walking paths are worn into the ground, and there are thankfully no trellises to be seen. I appreciate the unobstructed view of the clear sky.

There’s a hill directly on the left and what looks to be tall hedges beyond it. Far off on the right are trees, and I spot a few buildings scattered about. Most of the land is clear, though.

The nearest building is dome-shaped. Shallow steps lead to a large, stone patio that appears to wrap around the side of the building, but it’s the floor-to-ceiling windows that draw the most attention. It’s stunning.

“This land makes up most of the property,” Mason says. “You’ll find the gardens, ballrooms, pretty much everything here.”

I point to the building closest to us. “What’s that?”

“The school.”

I snort. “You have your own private school? How fitting.”

Mason ignores me. “You’ll find this area to be the busiest. Faeries love to stroll about. Socializing. I try to avoid it.”

I move forward, brushing past Mason and Lill until I’m close enough to the school building to peer inside. It’s empty, with only a few covered tables and chairs scattered about. The domed ceiling is a kaleidoscope of gold and red, and the crisp, white flooring is unnervingly clean.

“How many kids—”

“I’m leaving.”

I turn, anger flushing my cheeks as Mason walks back underneath the trellis walkway, leaving me behind. He’s not giving me enough time to take everything in. Lill frowns, also looking annoyed and left behind, before rushing after him.

I hesitate before doing the same. The faerie I ran into earlier seemed friendly, but most of the others haven’t.

I doubt they’ll be much help if I get lost, and I’m admittedly petrified of running into Her Majesty without Kie or Mason present.

They’re the only thing standing between me and the frightening queen’s wrath.

Mason weaves effortlessly through the covered walkways and open courtyards, and I almost immediately lose my sense of direction. I’m most definitely going to need a map.

“Kitchens and private dining halls are this way,” Mason says, pointing down a walkway. “Stay out of the kitchens. The workers don’t want your interruption, but you can usually find something to eat in one of the dining halls should you find yourself hungry.”

I perk up at that. “We’re allowed out of the house?”

“You can roam the grounds, although it’s not encouraged.”

“Not encouraged by whom?” By the faeries, or by Kie and Mason? Those are two very different things.

Mason turns, walking back the way we came. His refusal to answer my question is all the answer I need. It’s not encouraged by him and Kie, but I don’t care about their feelings.

He walks back into the open field. The hill that was on our left earlier is now on the right, and tall hedges block my view.

“The gardens,” he says. He pauses, giving Lill and me just enough time to catch up before continuing. “This is the same park as before, just a different entrance.” His green eyes meet mine. “In case you’ve lost your sense of direction.”

Lill offers a laugh, but it’s forced. “This place is different from the last time I was here.”

“Of course it is,” Mason says. “Queen Gitta ordered a restructure after King Malcolm was murdered. She didn’t like our enemies knowing the ins and outs of the property.”

To Lill’s credit, she doesn’t visibly react to the mention of the king’s murder. I wonder if she blames herself. She shouldn’t, but she was a child and they often can have a warped sense of reality and responsibility.

Mason resumes his infuriating tour, speed-walking us around the property and pointing out the important buildings. He doesn’t give us enough time to look around and explore, and I’m getting the impression that he’s intentionally making it as confusing as possible.

This is the worst tour I’ve ever been on, and my mood sours with every passing minute .

It takes almost an hour before we return to the royal housing area, and the second I spot the secluded wooded walkways, I storm forward. I have a headache, and I need space.