by K. M. Shea
I was pretty sure Lady Demetria was going to throw a fit and then maybe pass out from the exertion of it if I got her wound up enough.
Was it likely they were going to redouble their efforts to have me offed once they saw this? Absolutely! But you have to take joy in the small things—like annoying one’s Court—or life won’t be worth living.
With all the pomp I could muster, I held out my glass prism. “I have found my artifact!”
The fae nobles—and a bunch of representatives from the common fae—had gathered together like a judgmental choir and were seated in comfortable chairs—which looked distinctly human-made, understandable since two of the magic lights in the room weren’t working and the rug laid over the stone ground was moth eaten.
As one, they looked at my artifact, and I was not disappointed with their reactions.
“This cannot be.” Lady Demetria stood up. “We cannot have such an inept, powerless queen that her artifact is a prism!”
“We’ll be the laughingstock of the other Courts!” Lady Chrysanthe—her dress color and hair tint today were a pretty purple—managed to create a tear or two, which she dabbed at with a handkerchief.
“There, there, Lady Chrysanthe,” Lord Myron murmured to her. “Your concern for the Night Court is touching—you work on its behalf.”
I was pretty impressed I kept a straight face after that one.
Of course a number of fae protested—including the pixie representative—and the room was ripe with grumbling and horror.
It wasn’t all fun, though. A few reactions nearly made my smile sputter out and reminded me just how unworthy I really was.
I saw Skye, standing off to the side, see my prism, and discreetly pull a little metal mint tin from her pocket in the ongoing kerfuffle. She removed a chalky tablet from the tin and chewed it. Based on its large size and the way she crunched it, I was pretty sure it was a chewable antacid.
Yeah, I was that good of a monarch that my steward had taken to carrying around tins of antacids to munch on.
Maybe I need to increase my staff’s hazard pay again…but we’re still broke!
Indigo furrowed her forehead, but when she saw me looking, she smiled hugely. Lord Linus—his expression serious for the first time since I’d seen the annoying clinger—rubbed his jaw, and the edges of his eyes crinkled in worry. Chase, standing next to him, looked warily around the room, his golden eyes glowing.
I am in trouble.
I glanced back at the audience, and I almost missed him, but since he was possibly the only one in the room not murmuring to his neighbor, I did a second glance and spotted Lord Rigel.
Chapter Eighteen
Leila
He was standing in the shadows—of course—but his silver hair gleamed against the copper tone of his skin. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t look bothered by my artifact. In fact, everyone else was whispering to one another—Lord Dion, standing next to him, seemed to be exchanging a few whispers with a dryad—but Rigel met my gaze.
In that moment, I could have sworn I saw him quirk an eyebrow at me, but I blinked, and he was back to looking soulless and dark.
The “ceremony” was over pretty quickly—I just had to recite this dusty speech every monarch gave about having the power to protect the Court, blah, blah, blah.
The last piece of tradition that I had to observe was to stand at the door at the back of the room as everyone exited and walked past me.
Supposedly it was so they could congratulate me, but mostly I just got icy looks, or veiled hostility.
I did my part—standing there like a posable doll with a smile that never dropped.
Even when Lady Chrysanthe stopped in front of me, my expression didn’t change.
“You are a disgrace to our Court,” Lady Chrysanthe hissed. “I cannot believe the night mares chose someone like you over more qualified candidates.”
“What, like you?” I drawled.
Lady Chrysanthe tucked her hair behind her ear, nearly upsetting the purple chrysanthemum fixed there. “You think you’re clever with all of your witty retorts, but all it does is prove how little you understand us, and how much you don’t belong. You’ll never have the Court’s loyalty.”
I shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me—I never thought any of you were physically capable of being loyal. And you’re right, I don’t belong—because I’m human.”
Lady Chrysanthe shook out her skirts—for the ceremony she’d gone with a more traditional fae garb of a gown made of a light fabric that drifted around her like a cloud. “I predict that you’re going to ruin us.”
Lord Myron—who apparently followed Lady Chrysanthe’s fashion cue and was wearing green robes today—gently touched her elbow. “Come now, Chrysanthe. Perhaps it won’t be so—for the Court will always have you.”
Lady Chrysanthe gave him a beautiful smile, and the pair swept off.
I leaned back so I could mutter at Skye and Indigo, who stood behind me. “Are we taking bets if those two end up becoming a thing? Because they’ve got the whole ‘friends-to-more-than-friends’ vibe going on.”
“Actually, before your arrival in Court, Lord Myron and Lady Chrysanthe were merely acquaintances,” Skye said.
I turned around for that bit of news. “Are you serious?”
“Quite.” Skye adjusted her hold on her tablet. “The pair became more friendly shortly before the night mares were released to find you. Previously, their families have been at odds.”
“They united over their mutual hatred of me?” I finally turned back around. “Huh, I never thought my presence would harken romance. Now that gives me warm feels!”
“I don’t know that either of those two are unselfish enough to really love another,” Indigo said.
My polite smile became real. “Indigo—such fire! Good for you!”
More fae filed past. A few did stop to give me curious looks or reluctant congratulations, but for the most part the room emptied fast.
Among the last to leave were Lord Dion and—drifting behind him as if he were worried I was a communicable disease—Lord Rigel.
“Congratulations, Queen Leila!” Lord Dion gave me a sweeping bow and a handsome grin. He’d donned gray robes for today—maybe the traditional clothes were a requirement for attendance?
“Thank you, Lord Dion,” I said. I reflexively glanced down at the prism, which I had pinched between two fingers.
“It is very beautiful—and the size strikes me as convenient,” Lord Dion said.
I knew he was just being friendly and charming because of the Paragon’s plan—there was no way he didn’t know he was the Paragon’s choice, heck, the Paragon almost certainly told him so he would be extra charming. But I was pretty gleeful about that particular feature, and I didn’t care if the comment was just sucking up.
“It is, isn’t it?” I held the prism up for his admiration. “I can easily carry it in a purse, but I realized that if I have to wear sleeves even in the dead of summer for reasons I can’t fathom, I could even tuck it up my sleeve!”
Lord Dion’s smile shifted slightly—I think I was getting a glimpse of his true grin. “That’s a brilliant idea—I don’t think most monarchs are able to secretly carry their artifacts. Some of them aren’t quite travel size.” Back came on the charming façade as he leaned closer. “And, if you are able to secretly carry it upon your person, it would be a great reassurance to your safety!”
“Yes, that is a concern,” I said.
Off to the side, Lord Rigel soundlessly shifted his weight. His black eyes were still lightless, but today that bored look seemed to crust his body language.
“Don’t worry, Lord Rigel,” I called to the assassin. “You’ll always be special to me, since you were the first person to try to kill me.”
That got some reactions.
Lord Dion—still admirably able to keep his politeness on display, asked in a deceivingly calm voice, “Rigel, you tried to assassinate the queen?”
“Q
ueen Leila!” Skye’s voice was an interesting combination of a whimper and a hiss.
Rigel stared at his friend with his soulless eyes—but all traces of boredom were gone, muwahah!
“It was nothing, Lord Dion—it was so long ago it’s all in the past.” I gave a few fanciful waves, then winked at the red haired fae when he turned back around to face me.
Lord Dion slightly inclined his head. “You are as forgiving as you are beautiful, Queen Leila. The Court is lucky to have you.”
I was pretty impressed he was able to say that—it felt like there was a lie somewhere in there, but I couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten away with saying it. “Thank you, Lord Dion. Your way with words is quite impressive.”
Lord Dion laughed. “You must take me for a jokester, but everything I have spoken is the truth! Nonetheless, I have taken up too much of your time. Good day, Queen Leila.” Another bow, and he was strolling away.
Interestingly, Lord Rigel didn’t follow him.
He was watching me, his expression back to that haunting, dark look—the only expression he wore besides boredom. Although, I noticed that unlike everyone else he was wearing his usual dark shirt and boots combo.
It feels like the fae put clothes on and off like costumes for a part they mean to play for the day, except Rigel. He never pretends to be anything but deadly and wild.
“Hey, Rigel. Thanks for coming,” I said.
Skye made a quiet squeaking noise, and Indigo actually kicked me through my skirts.
Rigel blinked. “You aren’t bothered by the appearance of your artifact.”
I glanced down at the prism, then shrugged. “Nah.”
He slowly nodded. “You intend to flaunt it to upset your naysayers.”
I was a little surprised that Lord Rigel, of all people, correctly guessed what I was going to do. I wouldn’t think his chosen work would require people skills. Maybe he’s just that observant?
I studied the lethal but handsome lord, unable to pin down exactly what I was feeling.
He stared back at me, and I made myself smile. “I’d prefer to call them haters, but sure. I mean, it’s not like the appearance necessarily reflects the artifact’s ability to refine magic.”
He blinked again. “You are a strange queen.”
“Yeah, well your career path is illegal,” I said.
Another kick from Indigo actually stung enough to make me jump a little.
“Rigel?” Dion called from farther down the hallway. “Are you coming?”
Lord Rigel stared at me for a few heartbeats, then glided off with all the grace a fae should possess.
Indigo waited until the assassin left the hall before she dared to speak. “Has he ever bowed to you?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Queen Leila.” Skye sounded strangled and at the last tether of her nerves. “Did Lord Rigel truly try to kill you?”
All the fae had left, and it was just us and Lord Linus and Chase who were speaking together—or really Lord Linus was speaking, Chase was babysitting him to make sure he didn’t run off to find someone to play dice with as he had tried to when the fae first started arriving for the ceremony.
I turned around to face my companion and steward. “Rigel tried to off me right before Lady Demetria and the others found me and informed me I was queen. Unfortunately, he was about five minutes too late—Nebula had already shown up and bound me to the Court, so he couldn’t hurt me.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us this?” Skye asked.
I tapped my chin. “Well, since he can’t outright hurt me it didn’t seem to matter as much as some of the other lords and ladies. I told Chase about him, though.”
Skye pulled her tin out of a pocket—this close I could see it was pink and emblazoned with a few silver stars. She flipped it open, revealing an assortment of tablets.
“Are those antacids?” I asked.
Skye selected the chalky, chewable pill she’d eaten when I first revealed my artifact, and popped three of them. “Unfortunately.”
I winced. “Sorry, Skye. I don’t mean to drive you to acid reflux.”
“Your food getting bespelled, or the Wraith attempting to kill you, are not your fault,” she said.
“No, but I’m betting me shooting at Lady Chrysanthe was the nail in the coffin that made you decide to start carrying antacids around.”
Skye look startled for a moment, then smiled a little, relaxing.
“But really, everything is fine with Rigel. He’s not trying to kill me—and he’s had plenty of chances to.”
Skye crunched her pills. “It’s never fine where the Wraith is concerned.”
“Probably,” Indigo agreed.
“But he can’t kill me anyway,” I pointed out.
“No, but the attempt resulted in something nearly as bad,” Skye grimly said.
“And what would that be?”
“He’s noticed you.”
“In conclusion, do you have any questions about the first American King of the Night Court?” Skye asked.
I was surrounded by three books—the children’s textbook with pictures, a recreation of a diary kept by a fae lady during the original king’s time, and a book of sonnets and songs written about her.
“Nope. You had me read over him pretty thoroughly before today’s lecture.” I tried to sit up straighter in my chair.
“That’s because he’s a hero to our people—and widely adored!” Lord Linus briefly puffed up his chest. “Although he’s not popular with the Day Court, given all the restrictions he adopted naturally affect them.”
“Due to our shared nature as night and day, right?” I asked.
“Correct.” Skye stacked a few books and put them back on the shelves.
I can’t say I disagree with them. He’s the bane of my existence, the reason why I have to get married, and why I couldn’t turn down being queen and miss this entire mess. What a jerk.
We were in what Skye referred to as my personal study, but what I thought of as a library.
The room was rectangular shaped—it was very deep with one massive window—but it was two stories tall with a staircase and walkway that led to the upstairs bookshelves.
The ceiling had a painting of the night sky—Skye told me it was enchanted so supposedly the painting changed with the seasons—and almost every inch of wall space was covered with massive bookshelves.
The center of the room had several dangerously comfortable couches, a big desk for me, some filing cabinets, and extra tables and chairs.
I peered at the kids’ textbook and tapped a painting of the original king. “What happened to his artifact? I didn’t see it in the treasury room, and it’s pretty unusual.”
If the pictures were accurate, the original king used a massive staff topped with a crescent moon that was bigger than my head. Stars clustered around the top of the moon, and there was a gem of some kind at the base.
“The original king’s primary and secondary artifacts, weapons, and armor are all preserved for public viewing, and are not held in the treasury,” Skye said.
“They’re on display in the Night Realm castle.” Lord Linus plopped down on a couch. He set his head on the arm rest, and scooted so he could look at me upside down. “Hey, we should check them out sometime—it’d be a great bonding experience!”
“Not interested.” I frowned at him. “What are you even doing here?”
“I’m your advisor. I’m here to advise.” He lifted a hand into the air and gestured without wobbling in his precarious situation.
“I invited him,” Skye said. “Your…interaction with Lord Rigel made me realize that although I have taught you the names of the fae nobility, I haven’t taught you much on their common alliances and interactions. Lord Linus will know much better, given his lengthy experience.”
“Yes! I’m the fae expert!” He gave me a thumbs up. “Granted, I’ve spent the last two decades traveling a lot, but I kept up to date on all the gossip!”
>
“If you have time, Queen Leila, I do recommend you see the original king’s weapons,” Skye said. “They’re very inspiring to see.”
“I’d like to, but it will have to wait.” I stretched my arms out in front of me and groaned. “I’ve got a phone call with my realtor—he found a buyer for the Chicago condo—and then I’m going to run some numbers with the accountants. I also need to talk to Dusk and Dawn about the stables this afternoon, and whether or not we need to try to care for the shades and glooms, and tonight I need to practice magic.”
“Yes, you have been very diligent with that.” Skye put another book away. “Are you afraid your security is not enough? We could tell Chase to increase hiring.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m actually not practicing for my safety. Well, not much. I’m practicing some, but I’ve switched over.”
“Oh? What, then, are you so diligently working on?” Lord Linus sat upright for the occasion—despicably, his hair fell perfectly into place, and there wasn’t even a wrinkle on his shirt.
“I’m practicing barriers and wards,” I said. “Next time the Night Realm starts to shrink, I can bolster our wards.”
“Ahhhh,” Lord Linus nodded. “Yes—that’s very smart.”
Skye slowly picked her tablet up, her eyebrows knitting together.
“Is something wrong, Skye?” I asked.
“No, Queen Leila. It’s just…” She hesitated, then met my gaze. “I’m reluctant to bring it up because I’m aware you are learning more, managing more, and doing more than any monarch of the Night Court has in the past two generations, but there is your marriage to think about.”
“Ah, right.” I leaned back in my chair. “I haven’t thought about it very much.”
“You have until the end of summer—which is when you need to be crowned,” Skye rushed to add. “Before then we have the Magiford Midsummer Derby at the end of July—which is fast approaching.”
“I need to look into that too, but I’m more concerned about my marriage. It’s not really a decision I want to make last minute.” I stared at the tea set displayed on one of my bookshelves. My library was a room in a fae household; obviously it had to have something tea related on display, but I actually really liked looking at this set. The teapot was silver and was a lot taller than other teapots I’d seen, and the cups were beautifully shaped glasses with gold flourishes and swirls painted on them.
