Page 99 of The Shattered Kingdom
Was it this sharp for Mason?
Every eye in the room is on me. The stares feel like tiny bullets piercing my skin. Kie said he would use magic to heal my hand, but this is still going to hurt. I bring the knife to my palm, holding my breath.
I dig in the tip and drag it across my palm, moving quickly. The cut burns almost immediately, and Mason reaches out and snatches the knife out of my hand the moment I’m finished.
He wipes it clean and hands it back to Anox, but I pay them little attention as I wait for the blood to coat my palm. I cut myself deeper than I intended, and the faeries better fucking appreciate this.
Once my palm is coated, I crouch and press it against the stone, proving to the gods and the faeries that I’m willing to bleed for them.
If this gets infected, I’ll be pissed.
I leave a bloody handprint on the stone, and there’s a noticeable warmth on my palm when I finally pull away. The pain diminishes, and my sliced skin pinches together so tightly that the blood stops flowing. Kie wasn’t lying when he said he’d do it molecule by molecule.
It’s almost impossible to see where the cut is, my skin pressed together so perfectly that it looks uninjured. I’m impressed.
I repeat the prayers the linguistics woman taught me. My tongue fumbles around the vowels, but I’m doing my best. I speak slowly, taking my time and thinking through each word.
The room is painfully silent once I finish, and it remains that way. Am I supposed to say something else? Did I mess up?
“Come on, then,” Mason teases, extending his hand. “You’re done.”
I take the offering, letting him help me out of the shallow pool.
Dad stands directly outside the door, his ear pressed against it, and he jolts back as it’s pulled open. Aaron snorts, and Dad’s face turns a thousand shades of red. He was eavesdropping—or trying to, at least.
“Are you finished already?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. It’s a quick ceremony.”
Mason laces his fingers with mine. He’s pressing against my cut palm, but it doesn’t hurt. I hope it’s not hard for Kie to hold the skin together.
“How was my pronunciation?” I ask Kie and Mason.
Mason squeezes my hand but otherwise doesn’t answer. Kie grimaces, also not answering. It’s confirmation of what I already know is true. I’ve never been good at linguistics, which is a fact my Spanish teacher loved to inform me of.
“There’s a small celebration in the park, near the gardens,” Jackie says, exiting the room behind us. “It was a last-minute decision, thanks to me. The time of you two”—she gestures to Kie and Mason—“celebrating monumental events privately is over. Your people enjoy a lively evening, and it tells them how to feel.”
Kie furrows his brow. “Explain.”
“This is a happy occasion, is it not?” Jackie asks, cocking out her hip. “How are people supposed to know that when you treat it as a dirty secret? They need to be told that this day is one to be celebrated.”
Anox and Lady Cassandra exit the room, shutting the door behind them. They don’t look particularly excited at the prospect of a celebration. Neither do I, if I’m honest. I haven’t spent much time around the faeries of court, and I prefer it that way. Jackie makes a good point, though.
She’s already proving her usefulness. I don’t particularly love that.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ABBY
THE NEXT TEN minutes pass in a blur.
Mason pulls me through the crowded outdoor corridors, leading me toward the gardens where this celebration is supposedly being held. He’s pissed. So is Kie.
They want to hide me, keep me far away from the faeries who could make another attempt for my life at any given moment, but Jackie has ruined those plans. I assume the sheer number of faeries walking about the grounds is also her doing.
Maybe she’s trying to murder me. We offered her a position on the council, but perhaps it wasn’t enough. Maybe she’s planning something bigger.
I chew at the inside of my cheek, my nerves getting the better of me. It’s beautiful today, and a light breeze blows my hair into my face as we step out from underneath the trellis leading into the park.
