by K. M. Shea
The swirls on the cups were particularly soothing to stare at, so I kept my eyes fixed on them as I continued. “I don’t need to be quizzed on the members of my Court anymore—I think I even have the leaders of the common fae down. Let’s scratch the quizzes and use the time scheduled for it to start looking over possible candidates.”
“It will be my time to shine!” Lord Linus declared.
I glared at him. “You are the last person I would consult on a good marriage partner.”
He blinked innocently at me. “Why?”
“It’s because you even have to ask that, that I know you’re despicable,” I said.
Lord Linus managed to keep up his innocent look despite my harsh criticism.
I wonder, is he really an idiot? Or just pretending?
Lord Linus sighed. “I heard about this—daughters rebelling against their parents. Don’t worry, Leila—I’ll always love you! Which is why I’d like to bring up the discussion of my pay.” He flashed his white teeth at me. “I’d like an advancement, thank you.”
Yeah, he’s just an idiot.
I tilted my head back and stared up at the painting on the ceiling.
“Are you all right, Queen Leila?” Skye asked.
“Yeah. It just feels like I’ll never be able to catch up. Like I’m going to die, buried by work.” I rubbed my eyes. “I need to find a husband, learn how to bolster our realm barrier, get myself crowned so the other Courts don’t get any ideas about us, deal with whoever hired Rigel to kill me and whoever bespelled the food—assuming they aren’t the same person—cut spending, keep learning how to manage the Court…”
My throat squeezed, and it was hard to breathe. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“You’re doing quite well, Queen Leila,” Skye said.
“Yeah, but doing ‘well’ isn’t going to solve all those problems.” I straightened up in my chair and tried to motivate myself to stand—I had too much to do to sit here and feel sorry for myself.
“It’s important to remember these problems were not your creation. Thus, none of it is your fault, thus, it’s also not your fault if you can’t solve it!” Lord Linus said with the assurance of someone who had used this excuse before.
I rested my chin on my hand and stared at him. “You’re one of my problems—do you know that?”
He ignored me. “What you ought to do is go visit your mother. Nothing can soothe you like a hug from your mother!”
Because the advice was coming from him, I was initially tempted to ignore it, but he actually had a point.
“That’s not a bad idea—I haven’t seen her since I moved in.”
Lord Linus folded his arms across his chest. “It’s as I’ve always said—you inherited your genius from me.”
“Really? Because I think it’s more like the saying that even a blind, deaf, ancient squirrel unable to smell will occasionally find a nut,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure that saying doesn’t use all those descriptors,” Lord Linus said.
“Maybe not, but they apply in your case.” I stood up and rolled my shoulders back. “But this decides it—I’m clearing my schedule for this Saturday, and I’m going home to see my parents.”
Chapter Nineteen
Leila
I spent an unbelievably peaceful day with my parents—arriving early enough to eat breakfast with them, where I proceeded to pound down enough food for three people.
Most of the time was filled with eating—that was mainly me—drinking coffee—also just me—and chatting with my parents.
I helped Dad clean out stalls—there is something really therapeutic about doing work with your hands after you’ve been penned up doing office stuff for weeks on end—and by the time the blue sky was darkening and the clouds were streaked with pink from the setting sun, I was sitting out in a lawn chair that overlooked one of the horse pastures, nursing a cup of decaf coffee.
The birds were singing extra loud as they returned to their nests for the night, and a few lightning bugs started to glow, tracing spinning pathways through the air.
Bagel was pushing his face through two of the wooden boards in the fence—which had been repaired since the fae thoughtlessly sliced through it.
I sat on the edge of my seat and caressed his velveteen nose.
“You know, I think he misses those horses of yours.” Dad propped his arms up on the fence and affectionately rubbed Bagel’s forehead.
I almost spat out my mouthful of coffee. “The night mares?”
“Yeah, he liked them a lot. He pined after them once they took off after you.”
I shook my head at the fuzzy donkey. “You have messed up priorities, little man.”
Dad laughed, then leaned down to kiss me on the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, Leila.”
I peered up at him. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged. “You’ve been busy with your Court, but I can tell in your texts and your phone calls that you’re doing your best. You don’t even try to hide that you can’t stand most of your people, and you had to give up all your plans for the future that you’d worked hard toward, you know, being a mature adult and all.”
“Responsible Adult,” I said.
He chuckled. “A responsible adult, yeah. Despite all of that, you still do your best for your Court’s sake.” He smiled with all the love and affection he’d given me every day since I met him when he started dating Mom. “You’re special.”
I snorted. “Yeah, special like Bagel-the-idiot.”
“Maybe a little like Bagel, but neither he nor you are idiots.” He squinted down at me. “Not many animals could love those night mares of yours. But Bagel can, and you can. I don’t think you understand how special that is.”
I clutched my coffee cup tighter. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course.” He ruffled my hair, then looked back at the barn. “I better give the horses their hay for the night. I’ll be back—don’t run off while I’m gone!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.
As he headed out to the barn, Mom joined me, plopping down in the chair next to mine and passing over a slice of my favorite German chocolate cake.
“Thanks!” I eagerly dug into the thick slice. “I’ve missed your cooking so much.”
Mom gave me an amused look. “I think you miss eating regular food is the reality.”
“Can’t be helped.” I took a sip of my coffee to wash down the flavor of the sweet, coconut frosting.
Mom watched me devour my cake for a few moments. She stood up to pet Bagel—the donkey leaned eagerly into her hand. “Do you feel any better?” she asked.
I was only halfway done with my cake, but I set my fork down for the moment. “Yeah. I enjoyed the break—and getting to eat was amazing.” I sipped my coffee—my parents had made my favorite flavor, chocolate blueberry, for the occasion. “I’m not looking forward to going back.”
I’m dreading it, actually. Today just reminds me how little I like the fae.
“Have you asked Linus for help?” Mom sat back down on her chair, scooting it around to face me. “He told me he’s your official advisor.”
That little tattle-tale—I can’t understand how she can stand to talk to him!
“No, I haven’t asked him for help,” I said. “I don’t like him. I wouldn’t have even made him advisor, except if I hadn’t I think he would have wandered off and gotten himself farther in debt from gambling or drinking or whatever it is that he does.”
“He can be very capable.”
“He doesn’t act like it,” I grumbled. “He runs around and is generally annoying. I don’t like that I’m half fae, but knowing I inherited his blood makes it worse.” I meant it as sort of a joke, but Mom didn’t smile.
She studied me with very soft but sad eyes. “You’re unhappy.”
I shrugged and went back to my cake. “I’m a human that’s been forced to run a fae Court. I don’t know anything about the Night Court, and
I’m struggling to keep up with the nobles, stay alive, and learn what I need to so the Court itself can survive. They have all these rules…” I trailed off and stared down into my coffee cup before I took a swig of it, then finished the cake off.
I was about to stand up and go back to the house to load my empty plate in the dishwasher—or maybe to get myself another slice of cake, who knows?—but Mom reached out and set her hand on my arm.
I looked into my mom’s eyes, which were warm with love.
“Honey,” she said, her voice soft but kind. “You’re wrong.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You aren’t human,” she said bluntly. “I didn’t even raise you as a human. You are half fae. You’ve known magic since you were little, you observed supernatural politics as a teenager. When the Drakes hired you to train their dogs, they chose you because you are half human and half fae.”
I settled back in my chair, surprised by her fierce words. “Yeah?”
“It’s time you stop acting like—as you said yourself—a human ruling over fae.”
“…what?”
“Sweetie, you’re special. And I’m not saying that just because you’re my daughter, but because of your blood.” Mom leaned across the gap between us and set her hands on my cheeks. “You can do magic like a fae, you’re beautiful like a fae, you have the stronger senses of a fae. You. Are. Fae. But,” she let me go and held up a finger. “You can lie like a human. You aren’t bound to the typical fae rules of conduct. And—most importantly—you were raised out of the political game most fae are born into. You’ve lived in a world they can’t even fathom. You. Are. Human. You’re both—and that’s your greatest strength.”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me being queen?”
Mom narrowed her eyes. “Because you’re acting like a human who has to be like a fae queen, when you’re neither.”
I could only gape in shock. Mom had that edge back—the one she used to pin the Paragon into place.
“Stop going along with their plans just because it’s the way it’s always been. Stop thinking of yourself as helpless when you have all of the advantages they have, and extras! You need to rule how you want to—you can shape the Court how you want to! If you’re sick of its festering underbelly, change it.”
Not a single thought was able to form in my mind, I was that surprised.
“You can continue this way if you want, of course. But—Leila—you’re going to be Queen of the Night Court for the rest of your life. This isn’t some temporary job.”
I clutched my mug to my chest, but she was right.
I had focused on surviving the way the fae wanted me to. I didn’t play up the strengths I had that they didn’t. I’d let them drag me into their game, and protested by being snippy with them, when in reality I could just change the game.
“You’re right, Mom,” I said.
“Naturally—I knew this day would come eventually. You were always so proud to be considered Paul’s daughter we both worried it would make you reject your blood.” She took my cake plate off my lap.
“Dad agrees with you?” I asked.
“Of course, but whenever he tried to encourage you to embrace your fae blood more, you’d do the opposite and dig in your heels and insist you’re human.” Mom briefly scowled. “He always did dote on you too much for your own good.”
I laughed.
“Sweetie, all I want for you is that you make a life for yourself—as queen—that makes you happy. What do you want?”
I stared at Bagel. “I don’t want to scramble around in the power games that they play. I’m sick and tired of them.”
Mom rattled the dish as she started for the house. “Then make it so they can’t play those games. Use your humanity—and knowledge of the human world—against them.”
Bagel gave a loud hee-haw that made his entire body move when he sucked in air.
Slowly, I smiled. “Okay. I think I know how I’m going to start.”
I’m pretty sure everyone back at the mansion knew I was up to something when I called Azure to tell her she didn’t need to come pick me up that night.
But none of them could have expected the fun I was about to unleash on them.
As I drove through the neighborhood, passing the apartments, houses, and eventually the mansions, the loud rumble of my truck drew people outside.
My mansion had a really well-lit driveway. It was easy to pull the truck around the circle, even with the trailer hitched up to it.
Trailers aren’t loads of fun to drive, and I hadn’t driven Dad’s much, but I was determined to see my plan through. I just drove reaaallly slow around the corners and avoided backing it up.
Eventide—in his white dress shirt and dark vest—was the first to greet me. “Welcome…home…Queen Leila?” He looked from me to the trailer.
“Don’t worry about this—Dad is coming to pick it up tomorrow morning.” I patted the side of the trailer, then walked around to the back end to open it up.
“Did you need to bring it for something?” Eventide scratched at the base of the small goat horns that popped up from the mop of his thick, curly brown hair.
“Oh, yes.” I was practically glowing with smugness. I swung the doors open and hopped inside. It was dark, but I was familiar with the trailer, so I was able to move the necessary bars, click and unclip the right ties, and lead out what I’d brought back.
Eventide clutched the bottom of his vest. “Is that…a donkey?”
Bagel stopped at the end of the trailer to happily hee-haw out to his new abode.
Surprisingly, I heard happy shrieks drift from the direction of the stables—the night mares must have heard him.
“Might I enquire what’s going on?” I heard Skye’s voice, and Bagel and I hopped off the trailer in time to see my steward, companion, and Lord Linus stroll down the front sidewalk.
When they saw my furry friend, they stopped dead.
“You brought a donkey back with you?” Indigo asked.
“Yep! This is Bagel.” I patted him on the neck, and he peeled back his lips to smile at my friends.
“Why?” Indigo asked.
“Because he’s my pet. I’m queen, I shouldn’t have to go without him.”
I turned to Skye—I’d thought she’d have lots of objections—but she was too busy opening her antacid tin and crunching pills to say anything.
To my surprise, Lord Linus strolled closer then squatted down next to Bagel and started stroking him.
Bagel preened under the attention.
“He’s cute,” Lord Linus said.
“Thanks.”
The screams coming from the direction of the stable were getting louder.
I better take him back there before they break their doors down.
“There should be room for him in the stables.” I tugged on Bagel’s lead rope. “But I still need to tell Dusk and Dawn—”
I jumped, and I heard bitten off curses and startled yelps behind me as a familiar stone archway and gate popped into existence.
Solstice, Eclipse, Nebula, Comet, Twilight, and Blue Moon charged through the gateway, prancing across the perfect lawn.
Bagel bellowed out a greeting—which they enthusiastically returned.
Eventide yipped and scurried backwards as the night mares charged down the driveway, tossing their heads.
Only Lord Linus stayed with me and Bagel as the night mares circled around us, affectionately sniffing and wheezing at us.
Bagel brayed happily as Blue Moon nosed his cheek.
“I can see your night mares love him,” Lord Linus mildly observed.
I was pretty shocked when he nonchalantly reached up and patted Blue Moon’s neck once he stood up.
“Come on, Bagel. Let’s get you over to the stables.”
Bagel hee-hawed. His loud, booming bray echoed across the mansion grounds.
“Your nobles are going to love that noise,” Indigo said.
I tos
sed a grin at her over my shoulder. “Oh, I really hope so!”
I rolled my prism around my palm, practicing pulling magic through it and pushing it into the magic wards that were about a car length away. “Right,” I shouted.
There was some scuffling before my six night mares turned to the right as one long line.
“Good boys and girls—you’re so smart!” I cooed to them.
I cast one last look at the ward and tried to pull more magic through my prism—I was having a hard time figuring out how much power it could handle—but when I pulled enough to physically feel it in my hands, I cut off my connection and shoved it into the ward.
The ward rippled, but gave me no indication if my magical boost was at all useful. I was guessing not—when I had asked Skye about the ward, she mentioned I’d be able to visibly see my magic spread across the ward, and I didn’t think she was talking about a puddle-sized amount like I was looking at right now.
I need to get better at this. But there is something about my artifact—I can’t feel it quite like I can my charm bracelet.
Brushing my hands off on my breeches, I crossed the field—tripping on a root poking out of the ground that I didn’t see due to the Night Realm’s perpetual darkness.
“Whoever decided the Night Realm should be dark all the time was incredibly short sighted,” I grumbled.
“Historically the Night Realm has regular day cycles—if the Court is balanced,” Lord Linus said.
I glanced curiously at him. “Have you ever witnessed it in daytime?”
“Yeah, when I was a kid—but even back then our days were pretty short. Once the new monarchs were crowned about twenty years ago, the sun never rose in here again.” Lord Linus had managed to grub his way into a tiny bit of my good graces because he seemed to genuinely like Bagel, and he didn’t whimper whenever the night mares surrounded him.
