The Nymph King Read Online Free Page A

sang a gentle, soothing song.
    Her mom’s velvety brown eyes—eyes exactly like her own—narrowed slightly. She dropped Shaye’s hand as if touching it could cause premature wrinkles. “You’re treating my guests as if they’re diseased.”
    Shaye wrapped her arms around her middle. “If you knew me at all,” she said softly, “you’d know I treat everyone like that.”
    â€œI don’t care how you treat everyone else! You will treat everyone here, including Preston—no, especially Preston—with respect. Do you understand me? Just—” she shoved a wisp of hair from her face “—pretend you have a heart for a few hours.”
    That stung. Badly. But Shaye forced herself to smile. “Why don’t you go find your new husband and let him calm you down? This kind of upset will only cause you to shrivel up like a raisin.”
    Gasping in horror, her mom patted the skin around her eyes, feeling for crow’s feet. “I just had Botox. I shouldn’t have a single line or crease. Do you see a wrinkle? Do you see a goddamn wrinkle? I can’t lift my brows to find out—the muscles won’t work.”
    Shaye rolled her eyes. “Are we done here?”
    Her mom stomped her foot and ground out, “I’ve finally found the love of my life. Why can’t you understand that and be happy for me?”
    â€œUh, hello. This is the sixth love of your life.”
    â€œSo the hell what? I’ve made mistakes in the past. That’s better than cutting myself off from relationships like you’ve done, just to avoid getting hurt.” She paused, raised her chin. “You spurn everything male, Shaye. You never date.”
    No, she didn’t. Not anymore. She’d always been leery of the roads she would have to travel to obtain the fabled happily-ever-after. At one point, however, she had tried the dating thing. She’d quickly discovered that men never called when they said they were going to call. They weren’t interested in her as a person; they were interested in getting her out of her clothing. They admired other women when they were supposed to woo her.
    They lied, they used, they cheated. And they weren’t worth the trouble.
    Shaye twirled a strand of grass around her finger. “I wish you all the best with your new husband, Mother.” No reason to rehash everything. Again. “Now, I’m going home.”
    â€œYou’re not going anywhere until you’ve apologized to Preston.” A finger was shoved in her face. “You treated him shabbily, and I won’t have it. I won’t have it, do you hear me?”
    She had treated him shabbily, and she felt bad for it. But she wouldn’t apologize. That would invite conversation. Conversation would invite friendship, and friendship would invite emotion. Emotion, ultimately, would invite everything she’d worked so hard to avoid. “Do you truly expect me to obey a parental command from you? Now? After a childhood of being raised by nannies?”
    â€œWell, yes” was the hesitant response.
    â€œYou’re forgetting something. I’m the Ice Princess of Bitterslovakia, the Grand Duchess of Bitterstonia and the Queen of Bitterland. Isn’t that what you’ve called me over the years?”
    A gentle roll of waves splashed in the distance.
    â€œI should have known you’d act this way,” her mom snapped. With an angry flip of her wrist, she tossed a dark tress over her shoulder and glared out at the water. “All I’ve ever wanted was a nice, normal daughter. Instead I’m stuck with you. You won’t be happy until you’ve ruined my wedding.”
    â€œWhich one?” Shaye asked dryly, pushing aside her hurt. She much preferred the icy numbness she usually surrounded herself with. That numbness had saved her during childhood, sweeping her away from depression and desolation and into