Riled (The Invincibles 4)

“Respect for a previous monarch, I guess.”

“So he can behave like a lunatic and just gets away with it? Surely, King Ferdinand could’ve done something.”

“You know how it is.”

“What does that mean?”

“Diplomacy. Politics. Looking the other way when it comes to royals.”

I suppose I did. Although I was glad to see some comeuppance as of late. Particularly with my one “cousin” who fraternized with the sex slave trafficker. He might not be in jail, but he had certainly become persona non grata.

Teagon swiped a handful of blueberries from my bowl. “What about after, Kenz? What happens between you and Rile?”

“I don’t know,” I said barely above a whisper. Should I tell her we talked about kids?

“Buenos días,” said Marta, coming off the lift.

“Good morning, Marta,” I said, standing to hug her. “Welcome back. Did you have a nice holiday?”

She shrugged and got a sad look. “As nice as it can be now, I suppose.”

I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach with all their might, and grabbed the kitchen counter to steady myself.

“I’m sorry, Marta. I didn’t realize.”

She patted my cheek with her palm. “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. It does my heart good to see Cortez happy again.”

“See you later, Marta!” called out Teagon, motioning me toward the lift. “What was that about?” she asked once the door closed behind us.

“Celestina was Marta’s daughter.”

“How…” She shook her head. “You scare me sometimes.”

I felt ill and wrapped my arms around my stomach. When we got to the fourth floor, I followed her into the bedroom and flopped on the bed.

“Are you okay?”

I buried my head in the pillow. “I don’t think so.”

A few minutes passed before Teagon or I spoke again.

“Kenz?”

I turned my head to look at her.

“What about Konstantine? I mean, could you…did you know…”

“What he was thinking?” I thought about the way I felt that night when we were at the bar and how I’d known intuitively not to cross him. Was it because I was reading something someone else might not see, or was it just what I’d witnessed with others?

“Could you?” she asked again.

“I’m not certain.”

“What about me? Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“It’s too disturbing. I block you.”

Her eyes opened wider.