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

by K. M. Shea

  Thankfully, Solis was about ten times more tactful than me.

  He glanced at me—rubbing my gloved hands together—and also put his sunglasses back on. “Are you cold? It seems our people are content to continue sledding, but I did have my staff prepare some refreshments—tea and assorted treats—for our Courts to enjoy.”

  “Noooo, why would you do that? You can’t tell my Court.” I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “For real, you have no idea how much my people eat—they’ll devour your mansion!”

  Solis laughed, and I swear it made the sunshine shimmer on the snow and cast rainbows down the hill. “You do not have to apologize for their healthy appetites.”

  “Yes I do! They’ll eat so much I’ll feel bad, and then I’ll have to pay you some money for the food and then that will blow this cheap outing!” I yowled.

  Solis laughed harder. “I assure you, no matter how ravenous your Court is, I am happy to play the part of host, and I refuse anything you might offer me in return.”

  “But then this is a totally uneven exchange,” I said. “I mean, I trust you not to take advantage of that, but I’d be a pretty shoddy friend to dump this expense on you.”

  Even exchanges were one of the rules I lived by. Making a deal with a fae was ridiculously risky with all their wordsmithing skills, but if you did you needed to make sure it was equal and that the fae didn’t feel like you owed them anything.

  Debt to a fae could end up killing you depending on what the fae demanded.

  “Leila, allow me to assure you that my delight in the company of you and your Court is enough for me. It is an equal exchange.” The smile fell from his lips, and his forehead wrinkled a little. “I don’t deserve what you’ve done on behalf of fae. I value you as my friend, but I don’t know that I can ever…” He trailed off.

  Before he could continue, I heard the crunch of snow and peered behind me to see Eclipse trotting up the hill with an inexhaustible amount of energy.

  Lord Dion and Skye marched up the hill behind her, though they stopped when they reached Solis and me.

  “Queen Leila…King Solis.” Lord Dion put his hands on his knees and wheezed. “I swear…I train a lot…I don’t understand…why climbing this hill…is so awful.”

  “It’s steep, and you work at a desk,” Skye said.

  “As do you,” Lord Dion pointed out.

  “I utilize the mansion gym and run steep inclines for stress relief,” Skye said.

  “Oh, yeah—you mentioned you were going to try some more natural stress relief methods as your goals for the year,” I said. “How is that going?”

  “I have learned acceptance is the best for my mind,” Skye said.

  “Acceptance of difficulties?” Solis asked.

  “No. Acceptance that Queen Leila operates best when buildings are—metaphorically speaking—burning down around us,” Skye said.

  I laughed. “Ouch. Not dressing it up at all, are you?”

  “Quite the contrary. The worse the mess, the better you handle it,” Skye said. “It is better for me to embrace your abilities than to hope you’ll change.”

  “Why do I feel like a boyfriend who just received a lecture about his relationship?” I jokingly asked.

  “I’m saying I accept your flaws—even though they make my job difficult occasionally,” Skye said.

  “True, and I’m very thankful,” I said. “I would be very lost without you, and I’m glad you love me anyway.”

  Skye nodded. “Indeed.”

  “Skye, when will you come to accept and embrace my flaws?” Lord Dion grinned charmingly at her.

  Skye frowned up at him. “Your personality is one big flaw. Good day, King Solis, Queen Leila.” She started hiking back up the hill, waving to Chrysanthe.

  Chrysanthe was sitting in a sled, waiting to go down the hill. She didn’t notice Skye—she was too busy turning around and gawking at Chase standing behind her, talking with a few guards.

  Lord Dion sighed as he watched Skye march on. “I can’t make any headway with her.”

  “You’re coming on too strong,” I said. “And you’re too joking about it. Skye is very serious about her loyalty. You mean to be funny, but she probably reads it as you’re trivializing relationships,” I said.

  “Really?” Lord Dion adjusted his fancy ski jacket as he watched Skye.

  “Yep,” I said. “You don’t have to be overly serious—she has a sense of humor,” I said, more than a little distracted by Chrys.

  Because she wasn’t paying attention—still too busy gawking at Chase—Chrysanthe didn’t realize that her sled was starting to creep forward until it was too late.

  She howled as the sled careened down the hill, but I was super impressed. She didn’t fall out, and she got some serious air when she went over a bump on the sled track.

  When she finally wiped out at the bottom of the hill and rammed a snowdrift, Mary and Bob bounded over to her and dug her out, their tails wagging with delight. Bagel trotted over to join them, thrusting his giant muzzle in her face.

  Chrysanthe petted Bagel and the shades once she was out and brushed snow off her jacket.

  She retrieved the sled and paused when two fae I didn’t immediately recognize stopped to talk to her.

  Must be Day Court fae.

  “I will trust that you are right, and adjust my plans accordingly,” Lord Dion said.

  I stopped being rude and returned my attention to the conversation. “I hope it goes better for you.”

  Lord Dion bowed. “As do I. If you’ll excuse me, King Solis, Queen Leila.” He took a few steps up the hill, then turned around. “If you will forgive my own cheekiness, my Sovereign, you should ask Rigel to go down the hill with you.”

  Male fae were confusing me a lot these days. “What?” I asked, completely and totally lost.

  Lord Dion waved. “It would be good for the two of you. He’s up at the top of the hill—helping Chase coordinate security. I imagine he’d take a break to go down the hill with you. You should try it!”

  The young fae lord started running his way up the hill, but I heard him groan and slow to a trudge a few steps in as his wheezing started.

  “I’d jest about how long it will take him to climb this hill,” King Solis said. “But the truth is I only stopped here on this path and waited for you when you were behind me because I suspected if I went any farther I’d fall over, which would have been very unkingly of me.”

  I laughed. “Confession time—I called out to you because I wanted an excuse to stop and talk so I wouldn’t have to keep climbing this wretched hill.”

  Solstice sauntered past us, flicking his tail as he tugged two sleds up the steep hill as though it were an easy task.

  “Show off,” I called after him.

  He tossed his head and nickered back at me, but continued up the hill.

  “I have to say, I had no idea the night mares were so athletic,” called one of two fae that were slowly climbing up the hill after Solstice.

  “Yes. Quite athletic—and they are just as deadly and loyal,” Solis said. “Hello Angstra, Manith.”

  Who? I strained my memory before I remembered Solis had two fae from the Mid-Atlantic staying with him.

  “Greetings, Queen Leila, King Solis.” Angstra pulled down her scarf and smiled at me.

  “Hello, Angstra. It seems Magiford was able to charm you into staying longer?” I asked.

  I’d first met the visiting pair when Solis had brought them with to a party I’d thrown to celebrate my crowning as the Night Queen. That was back in August. I was legit surprised they were still here.

  Manith shielded his eyes from the sun. “We’d planned to stay through the winter, but I dare say you’re right about your charming city.”

  When the pair looked at Solis, he smiled at me. “Visiting fae often stay for extended visits. I think Rime spends about half of her time in her siblings’ Courts—her prerogative, of course.”

  “Cool. Hey, if that’s a thing
we should all go pop in and visit whatever fae realms have set up shop in Hawaii,” I joked.

  Manith and Angstra chuckled good naturedly at the joke.

  “It would be divine to visit,” Manith said. “But I am enjoying the winter season—and the way Magiford embraces it.”

  “Yes! When it was—what was it, thirty degrees below the zero—a local gelato shop gave away free gelato. We got a scoop,” Angstra reported.

  “Oh yes! That was where we learned you have a café,” Manith said.

  “It’s not mine, the owner just named it after me as a bit of a joke,” I said.

  Please, please, please, let them not have gone inside if it was still decked out for Valentine’s Day.

  “It’s a distinction you deserve.” Manith smiled, and for a moment there was something about it that bothered me.

  Ahhh, that’s it. It’s a polite-fake smile that all the fae used to wear when I first made queen.

  It wasn’t shocking that Manith or Angstra were fake smiling. Fae were all about deception and their political ploys, and since they couldn’t straight up lie they had to use their words, dress, and manners in tandem to really pull off a good deception.

  I was more surprised that I realized I hadn’t seen this kind of a smile in months. I hadn’t noticed how genuine my Court and the fae I know have become. Although Solis did say my people responded to my honesty…

  Even though I didn’t hold the mask-like smile against the pair, it did make me stand up straighter and remember I needed to be more alert with them.

  “Yes! We heard all about the way you saved King Birch and Consort Flora’s daughter,” Angstra said.

  “We didn’t even know they had a daughter,” Manith said.

  Daughter…that could be a deliberate word choice to hide that they knew he had a kid…or I’m turning paranoid in my old age.

  “Yes. I’m glad that incident was resolved, though they’re trying to keep it quiet,” I said.

  Birch hadn’t been able to keep the knowledge of his daughter’s existence quiet anymore—not when all of us monarchs and all of the Summer Guard were on hand to witness it.

  But I was a little surprised Manith and Angstra had heard about it.

  Surely Solis didn’t tell them?

  “Yes, I imagine so,” Angstra said.

  “Don’t worry, we are discreet,” Manith assured me.

  I smiled at the pair, but glanced at Solis.

  He had on his polite smile—similar to Manith’s.

  That, more than anything else, alarmed me. I hadn’t seen Solis smile like that in months.

  What is it about these two that makes him keep them at arm’s length? At my party he refused to call them friends and insisted I label them as acquaintances.

  Uneasy, I decided it was best to get out of the conversation ASAP.

  “I think I’ve recovered enough.” I slapped my thighs—or more correctly slapped my snow pants; I was so swaddled in warm clothes I barely even felt it. “I’m going to attempt ascending the hill. Are you coming, Solis?” I asked.

  “Are you going to follow Lord Dion’s advice?”

  “What advice?” I asked.

  “To try to go down the hill with your consort,” Solis said.

  I peered up at the crest of the sunny hill. I could see Chase, but I didn’t see Rigel anywhere. He was probably hiding in the shadows or something. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I’ll ask him.”

  “Then I will stay here so I can watch when you two descend the hill,” Solis chuckled.

  “Just because I ask doesn’t mean he’ll say yes,” I pointed out.

  “I think it does,” Solis said. “Do you want me to take a video? Or maybe a picture?”

  “Please don’t!” I started trudging my way up the hill, ignoring Solis’s laughter as I left him behind with his houseguests.

  “Enjoy the descent, Queen Leila,” Angstra called after me.

  I waved without turning around, and made sure I plodded up the path the night mares had broken through the snow. I avoided where the sun stallions walked—you could see ice in their hoofprints from where they melted the snow and then the air refroze it.

  When I reached the top of the steep hill, I wasn’t quite wheezing, but I had to stand with my arms above my head for a minute so I could breathe.

  On the plus side, my hands aren’t cold anymore!

  “Is something wrong?” Rigel asked, his voice coming from behind me.

  I tried to whirl around, but it’s pretty hard to do anything fast in snow pants, so it was more of a toddle. “Hey, Rigel. Nope, I’m great.” I awkwardly fixed my hat and peered up at my husband.

  I’d half expected he’d wear his usual clothes sledding—there was no way he was going to walk around waddling like a penguin like the rest of us, except for the few nobles who had worn their skiing gear and regretted it greatly the first time they fell off the sled and went careening down the hill in their less-padded clothes.

  But Rigel had surprised me, and was wearing what I vaguely recognized as snowboarding gear. His snow pants were thicker than the nobles who’d worn the tight ski pants, but way more fitted than my dark snow pants that made me resemble a gothic marshmallow.

  His black jacket was a looser fit, but it wasn’t as bulky as even the Day King’s parka. He hadn’t deigned to wear a hat or scarf—the lunatic—but at least he was wearing dark gray gloves that matched his snow pants.

  He also wasn’t wearing sunglasses—he used his eyes as part of his intimidation factor, so that wasn’t surprising—and with all the fae swarming around he was wearing his walled off/dead eyes look.

  “If you’re great, why are you squirming?” Rigel asked.

  I made myself stop fidgeting, but I recognized it was probably pointless since I was sure Rigel knew all of my tells. “It’s because I want to ask you to go down the hill with me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Leila

  Rigel flicked his eyes from me to the crowd of happy fae sledders behind me. “Down the hill?”

  “Yes.”

  “In a sled.”

  “Yep. We’ll have to get the biggest one—the big wooden toboggan I’m borrowing from my parents. We’re too tall to go down together in anything smaller,” I said. “That is…if you’ll come with?”

  Rigel stared at me for a few seconds, but I knew I had him when the dead-eyed look softened.

  Wait, he’s going to say yes? For real?

  “Fine,” Rigel agreed. “Blue Moon has the toboggan and is almost up the hill. I’ll get it from him. You find the spot you want.”

  “Okay.” I stupidly marched across the top of the hill, not really sure what to make of this unexpected success.

  A pixie buzzed past my ear when I found a patch of the hill that wasn’t occupied. “Queen Leila, are you going to go down again?”

  “Yep,” I said.

  The pixie struggled for a second when his scarf got tangled in his wings, but he righted himself with fast movements that my eyes couldn’t track. “You’ll need a sled. Should I find someone to bring you one?”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need it. Rigel is bringing one for us,” I said.

  The pixie stopped beating his wings—which were hummingbird fast—and he dropped like a rock, recovering just before his little feet scraped the snow. “Consort Rigel is going down with you?”

  “Yep.”

  The pixie clapped his hands. “How wonderful! I’ll find a troll to push the two of you down!”

  “That really won’t be necessary—and he’s gone.” I watched the pixie zoom across the top of the crowd. I took my sunglasses off and put them in the case I carried so I wouldn’t smash them if I fell off the sled and rolled, and got to work tucking my hair up into my hat.

  Indigo had very kindly braided my black hair for me to keep it out of my face—there was nothing worse than getting a face full of hair when you were sledding, especially if it got moist from the snow or from slapping your lips, ew—but I didn’t want t
he braid smacking Rigel. I molded it as best I could under my hat to make it stay.

  Rigel silently appeared at my side and set the toboggan down on the snow with a crunch. “You’re satisfied with this location?”

  “Yeah. Are you sure you don’t need a hat? Your ears have got to be freezing.” I not so discreetly peered at his ears—which slightly tapered at the tips.

  Rigel shrugged. “I’ve undergone training to withstand temperatures.”

  I squinted down the hill. “I should have expected that.”

  Rigel gestured to the banged up wooden toboggan that I’d used a thousand times when I was a kid. “Is there a specific loading method to this?”

  “Yeah. You’ll go behind me, so you need to get on first, but you can’t put your legs in place until after I sit down,” I said.

  “Why?” Rigel asked.

  I’m seriously starting to second guess my decision-making skills after this…

  “Um, that would be, because, you have to put your legs along my side,” I said with the awkwardness of a teenager.

  Yes, I’m totally an adult, but apparently my brain cells die off when I’m in love. Delightful.

  Rigel nodded—I was grateful this didn’t seem to faze him—and he sat on the back space of the toboggan.

  If you’ve never been on a toboggan before, it’s basically a rimless, wooden sled with a front that curls up in a sort of little shield that gives you false hope that you won’t be showered with snow when you ram into a snowdrift or a tree. Because it’s longer than a regular sled, there are little wooden bars that go across the top of the toboggan for support to keep the thing together, and they also act a bit like seat dividers.

  Rigel sat down in the last spot, and I had to sit right in front of him to make sure we had enough room for our legs—one of the downsides of being tall.

  Despite my sputtering explanation, Rigel tucked his legs around me after I was nestled into place, and reached around me so he could grab the rope tied to the front of the toboggan, holding it like you would the reins of a horse’s bridle.