Page 95 of The Shattered Kingdom
She storms from the room, letting the front door slam shut behind her. The young girl styling my hair takes a minute longer to complete what she’s doing, and she offers a gentle pat on my shoulder as she finishes and excuses herself. She hasn’t spoken a word, but she seems nice. She’s been beaming since stepping into the room. She’s young, too. I’d guess she’s only about thirteen, but Kie didn’t bat an eye at her age, so I haven’t either.
I faintly remember Lill mentioning once that it’s common for children of court to be given small jobs. Maybe this is one of them.
I’m taking it as a good sign that the faeries are trusting their children around me, not that I’m much of a threat. Even at thirteen, I’m sure that girl can whoop my ass.
I wait until Kie and I are alone before speaking. “Tell me more about this whole palm-cutting thing.”
It’s what I’m most nervous about. Mason cut open his hand during the ceremony, but I have a low tolerance for pain and I don’t heal the way the shifter does.
“What are you looking to know?” Kie asks. “It’s done to show commitment. To show that you’re willing to bleed for your people. You don’t have to cut your hand as deeply as Mason did, but you will need to draw blood. It’s unavoidable.”
I groan, and Kie laughs. “I promise we’ll make it up to you.”
He stalks toward me, his piercing gaze roaming down my frame. I’ve changed into a thick, blood-red dress, one picked out by Kie himself. It’s low cut, and it’s been laced so tightly that my airflow is restricted. I’m not a fan of the lack of oxygen, but Kie obviously enjoys the way it pushes my breasts up.
Kie eyes my chest. “This dress is going to drive Mason crazy.”
I frown. “Is that all?”
Kie likes the dress, and I want him to tell me so. I don’t enjoy him hiding his compliments behind Mason. He can say them for himself.
“I love it when you wear red,” he finally admits. “And I love it when you wear the clothing I picked out. It makes me…”
He trails off, and I bite back a smile. “It makes you what, Kie?”
The way he’s looking at me, all need and desire, makes me feel powerful. I enjoy knowing I affect the faerie prince.
His hands land on my hips, heavy and warm, and I can barely contain my excitement as he circles me. I don’t spend much alone time with Kie, and I’m looking forward to getting to know him better.
Kie’s chest presses against my back, and his hot breath brushes over my shoulder.
I shiver, desperate to know what he’s planning. What’s he like when the shifter isn’t breathing down our necks?
“I’m going to dress you every day of our lives,” he says.
I don’t mind giving him that control. He obviously loves it, and I don’t have a huge desire to pick out my own clothing. It would be nice, but it’s by no means a necessity. I express myself in other ways.
Besides, I secretly love the idea of being treated like a precious treasure, dressed up and paraded about. I want to be spoiled and pampered and have every stressful decision takenaway. It’s not something I’m supposed to admit as an independent, grown adult woman, but it’s how I feel.
“How are you?” I blurt out.
A beat of silence, then, “What do you mean?”
“I’m just… I hope you know I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”
“Is this about my mother?” Kie asks.
I half shrug, half nod. “Amongst other things. I know it’s against faerie tradition to mourn, and you’re exceptionally good at ignoring your emotions, but I’m here if you ever want somebody to talk to. I do care.”
Kie’s warm breath brushes over my neck. “Thank you. I—” He clears his throat, then continues. “It hasn’t been easy, but there’s no point in dwelling over the things I can’t change. I admit I miss my mother and sometimes I’m upset with Mason’s recent turn of events, but it helps to focus on the positives. I have a mate, and I have an esteemed position on the council. I’m satisfied with that.”
“Are you?” I push.
“I am. I promise you I am.”
Kie slides his hands up my waist, bunching the fabric of my dress along the way. Then one of his hands slips down, quickly finding the hem of my dress and disappearing underneath. My breath hitches as his palm lands on my bare thigh.
“Are you excited to be our queen?” he asks, changing the subject.
