The Queen's Crown (Court of Midnight and Deception Book 3)

by K. M. Shea

  That jolted me from my thoughts. “Wait, Mom knew what the night mares were?”

  “Of course!” Lord Linus scowled at me. “We had one of them eating the grass on our front lawn up until I left for the airport! She knew the exact laws for inheriting the Night Court!”

  And she didn’t warn me?

  I paused. If she had…I would have run. Just like Lord Linus. The thought made me frown.

  I’d come to love my crazy Court—from Skye and Indigo, to the common fae who embraced the changes I’d made, even the sneery nobles who totally pretended they didn’t like humans even though I’d gotten a Christmas card from the movie theater I’d taken my Court to last fall because apparently so many of the fae were coming to the daytime matinees they were selling out showings on a daily basis.

  And while I still hated some parts of my job—fae wordsmithing was the worst, and there were still a ton of people I’d like to punch in the throat if given the chance—I knew life was slowly improving for the Night Court.

  My people were happier—I could see it among my staff, and even in situations like the brownies wanting to open a store.

  Lord Linus watched me warily from across the room.

  “You still could have told me,” I said. “You’ve been my advisor for months.”

  Lord Linus uncomfortably rocked back on his heels. “I hurt you plenty, Leila. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. It just hadn’t occurred to me that you deserved an explanation.”

  I struggled out of the low chair again, not knowing what to think—or how to feel.

  This was never a possibility I’d entertained. Ever! Lord Linus was almost the Night Monarch? Is that why the night mares, shades, and glooms were always chill with him?

  “Thank you for telling me everything,” I said.

  Lord Linus slightly bowed to me.

  I didn’t know what to say—I needed time to think. When I heard the light footsteps of the brownies trundling down the hallway, I almost slumped with relief.

  “Here we go!” Indigo’s mom skipped into the sitting room, carrying a wooden tray piled high with freshly frosted donuts. “We’ll bring some tea for you—Lord Linus—and we’ve got some hot chocolate for you, Queen Leila. Indigo reminded us you don’t much care for tea.”

  My smile felt painful—her thoughtfulness was extra warming given my already lowered emotional barriers. “Thank you.”

  “It’s our honor, Queen Leila. We can’t thank you enough—for all you’ve done. And as a mother, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you chose my Indigo. She’s happier, now.”

  “Mooom,” Indigo complained, dragging out the title as she thumped through the doorway. “You’re embarrassing me!”

  Her mother laughed. “That comes with the job of mother, my dear. Now give Queen Leila her hot chocolate—it’s a new recipe, and I’d like to hear what you think of it!”

  Chapter Nine

  Rigel

  Cloaking myself in the endless shadows of the Night Realm was easy—the place was an assassin’s dream with its constant nightfall. I should have been undetectable as I stalked through the palace, checking for signs of intruders.

  But that gloom!

  One of Leila’s pets was following behind me, bounding to keep up. It stopped every once in a while to bat at a tattered curtain or to chase one of the mangy trash griffins that lived in the crumbling edifice.

  I recognized the gloom—it was Muffin, the female that had made Leila’s room her new home and liked to turn on my shower whenever she wanted a drink of water.

  I glanced back at the cat—who was fishing a paw under a collapsed bench—and stepped into the shadows, cloaking myself.

  When Muffin finished with her game she pulled her head out from under the bench—her face covered in dust and cobwebs hanging from her ears. She looked around the room—we were in the remains of the kitchen—then trotted out, heading down the hall.

  Finally. At least I haven’t completely lost my touch.

  I checked to make certain my gun and sword were in proper place on my belt before I left the kitchens, heading outside.

  Chase hadn’t found any signs of attacks or intruders since the spiders, but I wasn’t going to risk it. I knew what we were up against.

  Mentally, it felt like I ran into a wall, unable to even think very much about my geas.

  I ground my teeth as I stuck to the shadow of the building, avoiding the silver patches of moonlight. I didn’t like that the geas had such control of me, and it made me furious that I couldn’t tell anyone what I’d learned.

  If I could explain it to Leila, would she not feel hurt, then?

  Somehow I didn’t think so. But at least then she’d understand that I left for her, and I’d been thinking of her in my own way.

  Thinking of Leila brought in the confusing muddle of…her.

  She said she loved me?

  Given her reaction I believed her, but…why? I was an assassin, stained beyond redemption. She was the queen who had saved her Court and was single handedly changing fae-dom.

  When I had agreed to marry her it had been because I was afraid she’d destroy the Night Court with her zealous attitude. But she’d united it, and gotten the regional monarchs to agree to make her the fae representative.

  She’d accomplished in six months what I didn’t think would ever be possible. She’d destroyed the games of power and politics that had driven fae into bloodshed for years.

  Well. Mostly.

  The other Courts had problems of their own. But as the Night Court continued to excel, I imagined the other Courts would adopt a similar attitude out of sheer competitiveness.

  The biggest concern, now, was getting Leila to survive long enough to see that dream of hers come to fruition.

  And I’ve done little to help her. Even if she is misguided enough to love me, I don’t deserve it.

  I heard tiny wingbeats from the sky and I paused, watching a trash griffin bank and land on the head of a dragon statue that was so worn it was almost impossible to tell what it was.

  The little beast had a chunk of hotdog bun in its mouth—I personally suspected the garbage griffins were capable of traveling between realms, because it certainly didn’t find that here in the Night Realm—that it devoured almost instantly.

  It bobbed its head a few times when it finished, then promptly threw up its meal after its very obvious greed.

  What a charming creature.

  I quietly picked my way around a few skeletal shrubs that looked like they had once been pruned in a spiral shape, passing a few busted windows of the front parlor.

  I needed to figure out what to do about Leila’s…feelings.

  It wasn’t like I could take her hand and be a king—it was too late to redeem me like that.

  But how could I tell her without making her cry again? It’d been horrible to see her cry—like seeing a pegasus with broken wings. Knowing I had caused it had been one of the worst realizations of my life.

  It’s Leila. She’d never understand that it’s too late for me.

  I stopped to study a footprint left in the dust, but based on the tread, it appeared to be a bootprint from the guards Chase sent through the Night Realm occasionally.

  I took a photo of it with my cellphone just in case, then moved on.

  It seems like the only course of action is to carry on protecting her.

  Leila was loyal to a fault. She wasn’t likely to fall out of love with me…but I couldn’t let her in. I could ruin what everyone in my Court had come to treasure.

  Am I even capable of love? I highly doubt it.

  I’d experienced a peace with Leila that I’d never known before—in the quiet moments when she was tucked against me, sleeping so deeply she almost snored. I’d have to be blind not to recognize how beautiful she was with her expressive purple eyes, silken black hair, and gorgeous smile, but I’d never been moved much by beauty before. I was aware she was perhaps the first person in my life, however, who incited u
nexpected laughter. Whether it was in the blunt way she expressed a near constant desire to maim the Autumn King, or complaining about admittedly useless fae traditions.

  I’ve treasured her for that. But protecting her is the best I can do. Love is beyond my reach. I can’t trust like that—I can’t give like that.

  But I would keep protecting her. And I’d do my best to limit any pain I might cause Leila.

  It was the best way.

  I paused when I heard screaming from inside the palace—like a goblin getting the air throttled from it, but more mournful.

  The gloom.

  I debated with myself for a moment or two—it wasn’t my pet. But Leila adored her animals.

  I gave in, whistling sharply before calling. “Muffin—I’m around in front.”

  The sad cries instantly silenced—though I heard some banging as the gloom most likely knocked something over.

  I gave myself the luxury of exhaling a little sharper than usual.

  In less than a minute, Muffin jumped through a broken front window. She ran up to me and rubbed against my legs, streaking my pants with cobwebs and dust as she purred.

  I stroked her head once, then headed for the backside of the castle, the cat chasing after me.

  Regardless of everything, I’m glad I’m back.

  It had taken two months of missing Leila, but I finally figured out what made me crave her voice.

  It seemed like a bad joke because now—with all that had happened—I knew. She sounded like hope.

  Chapter Ten

  Leila

  In the first week of February, I decided to pay a visit to my favorite coffee shop, King’s Court Café, which was in downtown Magiford, just a block off Main Street.

  I had a lot to do for the day, so it needed to be a quick in and out. I was planning to take Steve—my female shade with adorable gray paws—and Whiskers—a male gloom who had a purr so big it could turn your hands numb if you petted him long enough—and see which of my night mares felt like plunking me into downtown Magiford.

  I stopped to tell Chase, though—I tried to be a good employer and not give the werewolf too many heart attacks, which meant telling him when I was leaving, even if it was just for five minutes.

  “Chase!” I hurried around the outer wall of the mansion, trying to catch up to my director of security as he made his morning rounds.

  Behind me Solstice’s hooves made loud clip-clops on the shoveled driveway, and a grumpy Whiskers and amused Steve made more noise than usual as they thumped down the sidewalk after me.

  “Chase, I’m heading out for a few minutes!” I called before I made it around the corner. “Gonna go to King’s Court, okay?” I poked my head around the wall and almost sucked it back just as quickly when I saw Rigel was accompanying Chase on this frosty morning.

  “Very well.” Chase adjusted his light jacket—no judging here, as a werewolf he was practically a furnace and ran hotter than a wizard. “I take it Solstice will transport you?”

  I peeled my gaze from Rigel and did my best to sound light hearted and unconcerned and totally not like a girl who’d blurted out a confession that had been pretty much avoided. “Yep!” I said.

  Rigel narrowed his black eyes. “What are Steve and Whiskers wearing?”

  “Huh?” I looked down at the pair.

  Both had their collars and leashes that they wore whenever we went to the café, as well as black boots—which was probably what Rigel was referring to.

  “Oh. The city majorly salts their sidewalks—and not with the kind that’s pet friendly. They wear boots to keep from getting it all over their paws.” Whiskers unhappily whacked one of his bootie covered paws on my kneecap.

  Steve didn’t seem to mind wearing hers. She happily tapped her way to Chase for a head scratch.

  “I can’t tell you what a pain it was to get boots big enough for their enormous paws,” I said. “I had to special order them. But it’s worth it—their paws are one of the few healthy things about them since they still have gross fur, are too skinny, and I haven’t been able to trace a medical reason for why the glooms pant like dogs. And they only have to wear them when we’re visiting the café. The Curia Cloisters have to use pet-friendly salt because of all the shifters that visit in their animal forms.”

  Rigel watched Steve tap dance her way back to me, but Chase nodded in support.

  I awkwardly cleared my throat. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go, then. Since it’s a quick run I don’t need any guards, and I’ll let you know when I get back—”

  “I’m coming with,” Rigel said.

  Prancing ponies, noooo. That’ll make my fun coffee run awkward!

  “Oh, you really don’t have to,” I said.

  Rigel stared at me. “Are you going to pass on an opportunity to convert me to the side of coffee?”

  He had a point. My staff acted like coffee was on par with black magic, and the mansion chef swooned whenever I asked if I could get a coffee maker.

  Yeah. Being Queen of the Night Court brought me soooo much power.

  I was going to have to buy one in secret and hide it in my room if I didn’t convince them I needed it pretty soon.

  I’d always joked with Rigel that if I could win him over, everyone would be too scared of him to keep up the coffee ban. Bringing up the joke made me cautiously optimistic that even if Rigel was shocked by my confession of love, he was going to let the whole thing pass and act like nothing happened.

  Which, I could live with. Obviously not the ideal outcome, but whatever. I was married to the guy, for cryin’ out loud. If things stayed awkward between us that was going to make for a pretty awkward life.

  “About how close am I to convincing you to convert?” I cautiously asked.

  “Not at all,” Rigel said. “But I will admit to enjoying the drinks I’ve gotten.”

  “It’s a start. Okay—Solstice will open a portal for us and wait in the parking lot until we’re done. Bye, Chase.”

  Chase waved us off and continued with his morning rounds as Rigel peeled off and joined me as I made my way back around the mansion, aiming for the front loop in the driveway where it would be easier for Solstice to open a portal.

  Our silence was a little more awkward than companionable like it used to be, but oh well. I still hadn’t forgiven him for leaving for two months. Though after talking with Lord Linus, I had to wonder if Rigel had disappeared for a reason.

  I glanced nervously at Rigel when we reached the driveway.

  I hope Rhonda doesn’t make a big deal out of him coming again since she’s been asking about him.

  Rhonda owned King’s Court Café, which I’d come to love when I’d stop in the years bygone as a mere college student. Which was technically less than a year ago, but I was pretty sure I’d aged a century since then.

  “Solstice, if you would please?”

  The big gelding shoved his muzzle under the knit cap I was wearing and breathed in my ear—tickling me—then shifted to face the driveway.

  I felt Solstice use his magic—which wasn’t at all like wispy fae magic, but something distantly radiant—and a buzzing hum filled the air before a stone archway and metal gate assembled in front of us.

  The gate swung open, revealing a misty black interior.

  It looked sketchy, but I’d been through the night mares’ portals so many times I casually shuffled through it without thinking.

  Swirls of blue and purple streaked around me, and I saw the glitter of stars before I popped out in a dry field by the dumpy castle in the Night Realm.

  The moon—which always hung in the sky here—was bright, and even though it was dark, it was way warmer than the winter air we’d left behind.

  I stomped my feet, getting snow off my ankle high boots, and adjusted my favorite black leather jacket that I’d slipped my new wool coat over for warmth.

  As queen I wore a lot of dresses. They were gorgeous and pretty and comfortable, but there was something freeing about wearing a
regular jacket and jeans that felt fantastic.

  Steve and Whiskers popped out of the portal—Whiskers stopped at my side. He tapped his boot-covered-paw on my thigh and wailed like a goblin getting trampled by one of the night mares.

  I was going to scratch his chin, but one of the trash griffins—tiny griffins with the head and chest of a pigeon and the body of a raccoon—zoomed past, nearly smacking into my head. Rigel and then Solstice popped out of the portal just in time to see me duck when it made another pass.

  Thinking hard about King’s Court Café—that was the only way Solstice would be able to open a gate that would dump us out right there—I smiled at the night mare. “Okay, Solstice. Let’s get out of here—I think this griffin is crazy.”

  Solstice collapsed the previous gate and raised a new one.

  I adjusted my hold on Steve’s and Whiskers’ leashes and then stepped through, experiencing the same beauty as I had in the first gate before I emerged into the freezing cold January air.

  The wind ripped across the parking lot, making me shriek a little as it cut straight through my double jackets, and my hat and gloves. “Holy heated horse buckets, that is cold! Solstice, you can stay in the Night Realm while you wait for us.”

  Solstice, having emerged the same time as Steve and Whiskers, gave me a look before he clip-clopped his way down the sidewalk, heading for the café’s drive through.

  What the heck is he doing?

  I clutched the leashes and jumped to the side to let Rigel through the portal. As soon as he cleared it, the gate collapsed.

  “Come on.” My teeth chattered as I jerked my head in the direction of the café. I scurried up the sidewalk—Whiskers and Steve plodding obediently after me—and was almost giddy with anticipation, until I happened to glance up at the café’s store sign. “What the—?”