Page 15

Job Dissatisfaction

SALLIE ROSE

He feeds me first, and I’m not sure whether to be grateful or more scared to find myself once again seated across from him at the private dining table just outside the kitchen, where the Mountain Goats have ceded their daytime posts to a much larger crew of Stone Fae.

But food is food, and I’ll take any delay in my punishment I can get.

“I see you’re in even less of a chatty mood tonight.” I watch him robotically eat a plate of cubed raw meat and vegetables, like it’s just another item on his to-do list.

No answer.

“Well, I just about talked myself raw with the unexpected liege of goats who came out to help me with the garden,” I let him know. “So to be honest, I really don’t mind eating in silence at all.”

“Yet you continue to talk.”

“So you want me to stop talking?” I ask.

“If I say no, will that not make you talk more so as to continue this ill-advised game of chipping away at my stone?”

“Geez. The way you say ill-advised . You could teach a villain class on how to be truly scary.”

“So then, that is a yes?” he guesses.

Correctly.

With an impish smile, I admit, “Yes. Telling me to stop talking would only make me talk more.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And if I say, ‘No, I do not wish you to stop talking?’”

I actually take time to consider my answer before deciding out loud, “I’ll assume you’re full of fertilizer and keep talking anyway. The thing is, after spending all day with the goats, I have so many questions.”

“Like what?”

“Like… Aren’t you concerned about their job dissatisfaction?”

“Job dissatisfaction?” He furrows his gray forehead. “I was not made aware of this supposed grievance.”

“Of course you weren’t,” I shrug. “I mean, look at you! If I wasn’t already scheduled to die tomorrow, I wouldn’t dare to tell you anything, trust .”

He pauses with a cube of meat halfway to his mouth, then sets it down. “Tell me what you believe you know about this job dissatisfaction you think you have perceived from my Mountain Goats.”

“Moons, I love how you make job dissatisfaction sound like a foreign word.” I set my fork down, too. “But listen, I’m up for any kind of discussion that’ll delay this cold plunge you’ve got planned for me.”

I lean all the way in to tell him. “Well, this triple-the-price scheme to cross your land for the Convergence Games has basically dried up all their business. Pretty much everybody’s taking their chances with the boats—even the non-flying species from Thyraelis and Emberglade.

And that’s a brave move, considering all the stuff in the oceans that has no problem tipping a boat for kicks and giggles. ”

Now, he shrugs. “They either pay our price or they assume the risk. Why would the goats be upset about that?”

“Because they’re selling fewer rides.”

He regards me blankly. “Thanks to our fluctual pricing, which offers higher rates before major events in Pridehaven, they are paid the same either way. Also, the coin matters little to them. They are full citizens of our kingdom, which means they have full access to our stores.”

“Yeah, speaking of that… Lyxnia told me you have such a surplus of food, textiles, and everything else that the castle is running out of storage. She also said they’re having a terrible time with food rotting or getting infested because it’s just sitting around unused.

And don’t get her started on the overcrowding in the livestock pens. ”

“Who is this Lyxnia you speak of? And how does she know so much about the state of our stores?”

I jut my chin. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I cannot honor this request because I do not jest in the least. Is she the Door Gravel who provided you with sleeping fleeces?”

“No. Your door servant of three solars is named Rinthiah ,” I inform him. “ Lyxnia is the person in charge of your entire castle staff—so basically, the fae who keeps this place running while you and your horde are out playing your terrorism games.”

He narrows his red gaze. “I do not like how you label our necessary reckonings.”

“Well, I absolutely hate that you don’t even know the names of your own staff. So I guess we’re even?”

“We are not even, and your judgment is undue. I will have you know that I take care to memorize the names of each member of my horde, along with their designation.”

I stare at him. “Are you, like, trying to make sure I never kiss you again? Because if so, you get an A plus.”

“A plus?”

“It’s an old-planet grading system.” I wave it off. “You know what? Main point—you’re detestable. Like, truly everything I despise about royals. So, whatever.”

I let out a huff and push away my plate, no longer hungry. “Everybody’s complaining behind your back, and you don’t care because you don’t even know their names, so… forget I said anything, I guess.”

He’s quiet for a long time. And I wonder if I’ve finally gone too far with my mouth.

But then he says, “You, too, are having trouble reconciling that kiss.”

“Wait, what?” I jolt at the sudden change of subject. That was what he seized onto from this conversation? “No! I’m not having any trouble reconciling that kiss I totally shouldn’t have given you.”

“You have had no spontaneous recollections of it?” He crooks his head. “Even when attempting to do other things? Like eat… or talk with someone who only arrived in this kingdom recently about staff issues?”

All throughout the day, in unrelenting bursts.

“I mean, I did seriously consider growing some sethmint stems to make a paste so I could scrub the memory of it out of my mouth. But other than that, I haven’t thought about that kiss at all—except with the deepest regret.”

“Oh, I see.” He taps all four of his finger claws on the table. “Yet, this is not what you said to me last night.”

I freeze. “Last night?”

“Yes. When I came to secure you to the wall, you spoke to me quite frankly.”

“I… spoke… to… you?” A cold prickle rushes across the back of my neck, and my voice threatens to give out.

I’d always talked in my sleep and rarely remembered doing so. How many times had I been abruptly awoken by Seraphyne poking me with the stick she had specially commissioned to stir me from what she called my sleep mumblings ?

“Would you like to know what you said to me?”

The Stone Fae King’s dark voice smokes across the table like a noxious killing gas.

“No, not particu?—”

“You told me you wished I was not…” He taps a taloned index finger to his jaw—exactly like I’d done the night before.

“What was your exact terminology? Ah, yes. You said I was ‘so freaking sexy.’ You also lamented kissing me because it was, and I quote, ‘the hottest thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.’”

Then he leans in. “Tell me, princess, were you referring to my body heat… or something else?”

“ Something else . Definitely something else,” I immediately answer while dratting my loose, half-asleep tongue.

He holds my gaze. “There was also another lament about not wanting to die a virgin.…”

Moist! Moist! Moist! I actually said that? Out loud? I’m so buried without seeds.

Salvation arrives in the form of an interruption before I have to come up with a plausible response.

“Son. I require a word with you.”

We both turn to find a man I can only assume is Veyrion’s father. He has the white hair of an older male and the same glowing red eyes as the Stone Fae King. Also, there’s the whole calling Veyrion son before requesting a word.

Anyway, the older male doesn’t introduce himself or even look at me as he clarifies, “A private word.”