by K. M. Shea
I frowned. “I thought you were supposed to be teaching me about the annual Night Court functions and fae functions tomorrow.”
“I intend to—when we’re in the car driving between appointments.”
“Greaaat.”
“Cheer up.” Indigo patted my free hand—the one I wasn’t holding on to Rigel’s arm with. “I’ll buy you something from the supernatural market if you’re good for the next few days.”
I perked up. “When is that?”
“In two weeks.”
“I want to go!”
Skye pressed her lips together. “Monarchs don’t attend local markets.”
Chapter Seven
Leila
It turns out, Night Court monarchs attend local markets!
I grinned and clapped with the humans as I passed a werewolf juggling knives at the very front of the market. “This is going to be fun!”
“The supernatural markets are enjoyable—if not a little misrepresented,” Indigo said. She walked at my side, eyeing up the stalls with interest.
“Everything okay back there, Chase…and Rigel?” I asked.
Chase had his ear piece in and was dutifully scanning the crowd, though he stopped long enough to give me a reassuring smile. “My people are in place. You may proceed as you wish, Queen Leila.”
Rigel was loitering behind us, drawing whispers and looks from all the humans who saw him.
I wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come. He’d actually been MIA for two days, but then abruptly showed up when Indigo and I were hopping in the car to leave and wordlessly joined us.
But Rigel wasn’t the only one drawing stares.
Kevin and Whiskers—my male shade and gloom—walked perfectly on their blue leashes and collars I’d purchased for the occasion, not reacting even though some of the market goers were frantically taking pictures of them with their cellphones.
I’d been reluctant to bring the pair, but they had been really excited about the car ride, and Chase had very enthusiastically pointed out that pets were allowed at the market as long as they were on a leash. Though I was pretty sure he just wanted them around as an extra security measure and an easy way to keep people back.
Thankfully, the humans seemed more fascinated by Kevin’s wispy fur and Whiskers’ massive claws. I mean, my Court reacted with more fear than the humans were showing.
I took a deep breath and inhaled magnificence. “I smell apple cider donuts.”
“Oh, yeah—there’s a stall run by brownies just for baked goods,” Indigo said. “We should check it out. Since this is the fall market, they should have caramel apples, caramel corn, pumpkin bars—”
“Consider me on board,” I said.
“Only if Indigo purchases the food without you in sight,” Chase, ever diligent, said.
“It’s okay,” Indigo said. “My mom is working in the stall—she made some special for my Sovereign.”
Chase tilted his head back for a moment, then nodded. “That will be acceptable.” Feeling my eyes on him, he turned his golden gaze in my direction. “I apologize for these necessary steps, Queen Leila, but I will always remain most concerned with your safety.”
Since we’d paused in the middle of the street, Whiskers sat down and licked his massive paw, then lifted it up and rested it on my thigh like a house cat requesting pets.
I stroked his furry head, used to the thin, greasy feeling of his patchy fur—the poor boy. “It’s fine, Chase. I really appreciate your loyalty, and I’m glad to have you with us.”
Chase bowed his head to me. “I am your loyal subject, my Sovereign.”
His reaction caught me a little off guard—as a werewolf he was technically primarily loyal to his pack, and it was unusual that he’d adjust to calling me by a fae title since we supernaturals typically clutched our dividing lines close.
I didn’t think a market would be the best place to have that conversation, though, so I just smiled at the werewolf and resolved to ask him later.
Music threaded through the air, along with the fragrant smell of baked goods, freshly popped popcorn, and—if my nose was correct—fried meat, which I was willing to bet was being sold by a werewolf.
The supernatural market was held about once a season in downtown Magiford and was basically the magical version of a farmer’s market.
The local police would close off Main Street for the day, and supernaturals were encouraged to set up stalls and bring produce and goods to sell. Except—since we’re supernaturals—those good could be anything from a fae potion to make your hair silky to a wizard frying corn dogs over an open flame.
This gave the humans a chance to see and purchase supernatural goods, and get them mixing with us in a fun way that wouldn’t at all be confrontational or let them know how dangerous supernaturals really were.
Basically, the market was a PR move.
But I wasn’t certain the market assured humans we were all cute, harmless beings as I admired a stall of knives—both hunting knives and some really fantastic kitchen knives—run by a werewolf.
“Oohhh, hey, Rigel. Want your picture taken with a giant pumpkin? Looks like a fae spelled it to grow extra big.” I pointed to the stand where a pumpkin the size of a small car was set up on a white drop cloth so people could take selfies with it.
Rigel stared at me.
“Well I think it looks fun.” I rolled my eyes and moved on to the next stand—a fae selling soaps and low-grade potions.
The fae had been staring at Whiskers and Kevin with terror in his eyes, but when he met my gaze he hastily folded in a deep bow.
I wove around a scarecrow the city had set up to decorate the base of a streetlight, and passed by another row of stalls—a naiad selling sushi, some trolls with a cartload of organic vegetables, a wizard selling slivers of what he claimed was a wizard House that had been destroyed a few decades ago, a werebear that was selling knitted scarves and gloves that were lined with fur, and a werewolf selling what she swore were toy bows, but they came with arrows that looked awfully pointy for being a toy.
A couple pushing a stroller passed me when we reached the end of the market and stopped.
“See anything you liked?” Indigo asked me. She was watching two mermaids sitting in dunk tanks who were performing the most incredible duets.
“I saw a fae stall with some dog biscuits—I’ll want to visit that right before we go,” I said.
“Should I go get our baked goods, then?”
“Sounds good. Here—take cash.” I dug my wallet out of my pants pocket—I was super casual today with blue jeans and a flannel shirt. I was a little hot, but if we were going to the fall market, I was going to celebrate like it was fall!
“They have the chip scanner thingie,” Indigo said. “Most of the sellers here do.”
“Yeah, but those things have a surcharge and eat into a seller’s profits,” I said.
Indigo squinted at me. “Has anyone told you that you’re cheap?”
“I’m being an informed consumer!”
Indigo took the cash and disappeared into the swirl of the crowd.
Kevin reached the end of his short leash and sniffed a rustic barrel the city had planted flowers in while Whiskers panted and peered up at the gargoyle statues settled into the sides of the city police department.
I, however, was drawn to a stand run by the only vampire in the whole market.
“Life Advice?” I read the sign.
“Yep,” the vampire said. She had a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of her small nose and was holding a worn paperback book. Her hair was ink black, and though her eyes were red it was obvious she was Japanese due to her beautiful dusty orange kimono, which was emblazoned with a beautiful white and black crane.
Her outfit wasn’t that surprising. Given vampires near immortality, fashion wasn’t a concern for them, and they typically wore whatever garb they felt most comfortable in.
But the vampire herself was unusual because supernatur
al markets—or at least the ones I had been to—weren’t typically the vampire scene. Vampires didn’t like being out in the daylight since it made them weak, and most of them were way too snobby—like fae nobles—to even consider coming.
Intrigued, I drew a little closer to the stand, tugging on the leashes so Kevin and Whiskers followed. “You sell life advice? How?”
“You live as long as I do, you will see it all,” the vampire drawled. “That’s the thing about life. Humans, supernaturals, doesn’t matter. We make the same mistakes over and over. History endlessly repeats itself even if the names and players change.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” I held out a ten dollar bill—which was the middle tier of advice according to her prices listed on her sign. “What advice do you have for me?”
“That depends, do you want romantic advice, financial advice, career advice—you name it, I’ll do it.” The vampire gracefully gestured to the pamphlets she had sitting on her table.
I scanned the list. “Advisor’s choice?” I asked.
“I give you what I think you personally most need to hear,” the vampire said.
“How does that work?” I asked. “I think an oracle would be more accurate.”
The vampire opened a cloth bag made of the same silk fabric as her kimono and pulled out a lip gloss. “Buy it and find out.”
I pressed my lips together for a moment, then set my ten dollar bill on the table. “It’s worth a try then. Hit me with your best advice.”
“Right, then. Come here.” She beckoned me closer. “You don’t want anyone else hearing this.”
I glanced at Chase, but though he was watching, even his werewolf hearing would probably have a hard time hearing the vampire if she whispered due to the hum of the crowds, the music, and all the market noise.
Rigel was hanging back even farther than he was, looking absolutely bored.
Reluctantly I leaned over the table.
She whispered directly in my ear. “That silver-haired fae warrior of yours—you constantly second guess him and push him back.”
“What?” I drew back slightly and gaped at the vampire. “How did you know I’m with Rigel?”
“You’re a smart one, so use that noggin of yours,” the vampire scoffed. “How many other people do you think strut down the street with a tame shade and gloom on leashes? Besides, the whole city knows who you are! Your picture was spattered everywhere after you swept the races and beat all the other fae. Of course I’d know who your consort is, Night Queen. Now get back over here!”
She waited until I leaned close enough that she could whisper. “Stop assuming he dislikes you. Take a look at his actions and you’ll see he occasionally steps out of his inaction to help you, and for a fae, that’s huge.”
“If you know me then you must know what he does,” I said. “There’s a big risk if I misread him.”
“It’s often been my experience that in relationships—whether it’s romantic, friendship, or familial—the biggest danger is always in staying silent and trudging on assuming you know what the other person is thinking rather than speaking up and voicing your own feelings.” She shrugged. “But what do I know? I’ve just been around since before your little Court was formed.”
I glanced back at Rigel. He yawned and looked disgustingly like a fae from an epic poem despite the mass of children that scampered past him, and the harried looking dad that almost collided with him.
“Is that relationship advice or romantic advice?” I asked.
The vampire adjusted her glasses and smirked as she sat back in the chair. “That’s up to you, Queen Leila. But if I were you, I’d be far more interested in getting much closer to him.” Her smirk grew for a moment, before—like quicksilver—it was gone. “You need him to survive the kind of odds you’re facing. Good luck.” She stuffed the cash in her kimono bag and went back to reading her book, totally disinterested in me.
I stared at her for a few moments, until Indigo popped out of the crowd.
“Here—I got a hot apple fritter. You’ll want to eat that now.” She handed me the donut, juggling a giant paper bag. “Mom says hello, by the way. She gave us a ton of goodies—she said you need it, and that Chase should be eating more, too.”
We wandered back to the werewolf and the assassin—Indigo yipped and held the bag over her head when Kevin gave it a sniff.
I took my first bite of the hot apple fritter when we reached Chase. “I love your family. I want to adopt you all.” The warm frosting melted in my mouth, and I hummed in appreciation.
“She’ll be glad to hear you enjoyed it. Here, Chase—and I have one for you, Consort Rigel, should you like to have one.” Indigo pulled an apple fritter out of the bag and gave it to Chase, then slowly held one out to Rigel.
He shook his head.
“I’ll take his!” I volunteered.
Indigo passed it off. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” I said with deep gratitude.
After I finished my apple fritter, but before I could suck down the second, I glanced at Rigel. I wonder why he decided to come today.
I got my chance to ask a little over an hour later.
“I’ve notified the human police, and sent word to the Curia Cloisters. They’re now aware of the…situation.” Skye clutched her cellphone as she glanced out at the much bigger crowd that had amassed in the last few minutes.
Apparently my Court had gotten word that I was at the market, because tons of Night Court fae, both nobles and common, stormed it. This drew admiration from the human attendees, who frequently asked my people for pictures.
I had called Skye to ask if it was okay, and she’d jumped into action, gathering more of Chase’s security team and sending them to us while she rushed to let the local government know that an entire Court was about to descend on Magiford before coming here herself.
I scratched under Kevin’s chin, making him wag his tail. “Sounds great, Skye. I think we’re all good, then. I saw two of Chase’s people directing the trolls so they could safely see the market, and the pixies were entertaining the group of school kids that the banshees accidentally scared,” I said.
Skye let out a whoosh of air. “Yes. I believe everything has been righted.”
I patted her shoulder. “Thanks, Skye. You were amazing with all of that.”
“It was an unexpected task.” She slouched a bit, making me believe I’d made a good decision a few minutes ago.
Skye—always graceful, always put together—had looked so troubled I’d sent Indigo off to get an apple fritter for her.
I waved to Lord Dion, who arrived shortly after an extremely harried Skye. “Why don’t you go find Indigo? She’s at the brownie bakery stand—I gave her cash, she was going to put an order in for you and get you a hot apple fritter.”
Skye wrinkled her forehead. “But then you’ll be alone.”
“Nah, Rigel’s here.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at the fae assassin. “And so are Kevin and Whiskers—and I can see Chase from here.”
Kevin and Whiskers looked with me to Chase, who was about a market stand’s length away, talking on the phone as he finished organizing security for the impromptu “the Night Court Visits the Supernatural Market” excursion.
“Okay,” Skye reluctantly said.
“Or if you’re that tired, there’s a café right here on Main Street. We could get you some coffee.”
Skye made a face. “I’ll find Indigo.”
“Enjoy!” I called after the beautiful fae, but she was already gone.
“Well. This has been…something.” I adjusted my hold on Kevin’s and Whiskers’ leashes as Whiskers yawned, flashing his mouth full of glinting teeth. “You okay back there, Rigel?”
Rigel glanced in my direction. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not upset by all the Court people who showed up?”
He shrugged. “It makes no difference to me what events those from my Court decide to attend.”
“Yeah, I w
anted to ask you about that,” I said. “Why did you come?”
Rigel stared at me.
“Not that I don’t want you here! You’ve just looked bored. It made me wonder why you wanted to come in the first place.”
Rigel stared at the crowd, and I waited patiently for a response.
And waited.
And waited.
We sat in silence so long Whiskers actually lay down to people watch, and Kevin tried his paw at begging for more chin scratches.
“I wanted to know,” he finally said.
I rubbed Kevin’s ears. “Wanted to know what?”
Rigel rubbed a spot on his leather bracers. “What your goal was. That’s what the point of coming was.”
“I could have told you why—it’s to have fun!” I said.
Rigel slightly tilted his head. “Fae don’t,” he paused and looked out at the crowd. “Previously fae didn’t attend something like this for fun.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, you guys don’t exactly have me convinced that we’re the most fun supernaturals ever. No one had played mini golf before I took the Court this summer.”
“You didn’t come for the sake of showing off, or asserting your power,” Rigel said.
“Correct. Besides—even if I wanted to make this into a political statement, I don’t think I could. King Fell would die before he’d come out here—though I’d pay a lot of money to see him take a picture with the ‘King Pumpkin’.” I nodded in the general direction of the giant pumpkin we’d seen previously.
“We don’t often do anything for the sheer fun of it,” Rigel said.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Why not?”
Rigel shrugged. “Every event is a chance to gather more power and further your personal machinations.”
“But what’s the point? No one seems happy.”
I frowned a little when I noticed Lady Chrysanthe lingering near us. She was looking out over the crowd of people with a moodiness select to overdramatic actors, and seemed to perfectly prove my point.
Why is she standing so close? Is she trying to overhear what we’re talking about?