The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1) - Page 132
“Oh my gods,” I groaned.
Mama’s grin was full of teeth. “Your Majesty? I could get used to that.” She held up her hand toward Ryan. He stared at it awkwardly until I kicked him in the shin. He took a step forward and grabbed the proffered hand, kissing it swiftly before backing away, standing so close our arms brushed together.
“Thank you for having me to your whorehouse.” He winced. “I mean your home. Where people pay to have sex.”
“Is he broken?” Mama asked me, looking coolly amused.
I frowned at Ryan. “I haven’t quite figured that out.”
“I’ve never been to a brothel,” Ryan said quickly. “Or met a… lady. Of your caliber.”
“You mean with a cock?” Mama asked.
Ryan coughed again. Definitely some choking involved. “Yes? Yes. There’s that part too. I’ve heard of you… people.”
Oh gods. Mama cocked her head at him. To most, it wouldn’t have seemed like anything. But for those that knew her, Mama was coiling to strike. “What do you mean by you people?” she asked.
I had to stop the bloodshed before it could start. “He means—”
“Pimps,” Ryan said. “Is that what you’re called? Pimps? Brothel owner? Whoremaster? Queen of the Fuck Palace?”
“Queen of the Fuck Palace?” I repeated. “Seriously? Seriously?” Granted, he didn’t say something derogatory against drag queens, which I was thankful for, but I couldn’t tell if this was worse. If she was insulted, Mama would most likely cut off his dick and nail it to the wall.
“Moishe,” Mama said.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Please let it be known that from this day forward, my working title for the business is now Queen of the Fuck Palace.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“You may leave.”
Moishe closed the door behind him, but not before he stared at my crotch with his cold eyes.
“I like him,” Mama told me, waving dismissively at Ryan.
“What? Why? You don’t like anyone!”
“Uh, hi,” Ryan said. “Standing right here.”
“I like you,” she said to me.
“Well, yes,” I said. “But I like to think I am a special case.”
“You are a special case,” she said sweetly.
“You just insulted me, didn’t you?”
“I would never do such a thing,” she said, folding her hands in front of her.
“But Ryan?” I said. “You hate the knights. And the government. And the King! You called them capitalist scum who harbor resentments against the proletariats even though they rely on them for industry.”
“Still standing right here,” Ryan said. “And I don’t know what proletariats are. But I feel like someone is insulting me. Somehow.”
Mama rolled her eyes. “I’m allowed to change my mind about people, Sam.”
“You just think he’s hot,” I accused her, as if this was not a common consensus by everyone currently in the room.
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