by K. M. Shea
“I already told you, don’t call me that.”
He shrugged and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m here to volunteer my services—and knowledge.” When he glanced at me this time his purple eyes seemed sharp, and his smile was slightly crooked. “You need an advisor.”
“I do,” I acknowledged. “But there’s no way I want you filling that job. Who knows when you’ll just abandon your position?”
Lord Linus’s selfishness must have known no boundaries. He didn’t flinch at my jab, just laughed. “Having a flight-risk advisor is better than having none at all. Or didn’t you know—most monarchs have a handful of advisors. You don’t have any—has anyone even offered yet?”
I shrugged. “It’s just a matter of time—they’ll want to start trying to control me and use me for their own ends.”
Lord Linus spread his hands out in front of him. “Except who would be a better choice than your own father?”
“You are not my father,” I said bluntly. “My dad’s name is Paul, and he lives out in the country with my mom. You are a total stranger. I have no reason to trust you—particularly given your past actions.”
Lord Linus shrugged. “I’m no more a stranger to you than anyone else in our Court. And as little as you like to claim your blood, the fact is I am the last of a powerful fae house. As your advisor, I can help you. Your steward may know what needs to be done to keep your mansion functioning, and your companion can dress you appropriately, but I have personal relationships and know the dirty underside of the noble houses. I can help you rule.”
No, absolutely not. This guy obviously has no morals, or he wouldn’t have abandoned Mom and me. Who knows what his angle is—he might be here just because another noble is making him. And—
“All I would ask for in return is a little financial compensation,” Lord Linus continued.
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“Times are difficult for the Night Court,” Lord Linus said. “Most of the nobles are struggling. And perhaps I have had a moment or two of folly…”
“What are you talking about?”
Lord Linus shrugged. “Fae socials are dead boring. To lighten the atmosphere it is common to wager a bit of money on cards or a game or some such thing.”
Oh my gosh. It’s not enough that my Court is deep in debt, my biological father is a gambler. I shut my eyes and tried to think of happy things—my cute night mares, my pool-sized bath tub, my giant arse bed…
If I let him run around loose, he’s going to cause me more trouble. And if I’m paying him and he desperately needs the money at least that will keep the power balance. He won’t be able to hold his position as my bio father over me.
“It’s confirmed.” I rolled my neck back and stared up at the ceiling. “Fae are regency era wastrels and rogues.”
“What was that, Queen Leila?” Indigo asked.
“Nothing.” I sighed and scowled at Lord Linus. “I accept your offer of becoming an advisor. But I am going to strictly monitor your finances and actions, and you’re staying in the mansion.” Where Chase can keep an eye on you and I can keep you leashed.
Lord Linus bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Splendid! The old family home needs some repairs and, er, furniture. And the utilities were all turned off…”
I rubbed my temple. “Just how deep in debt are you?”
Lord Linus airily laughed. “I’ll just find your steward so she can assign me a room—you hired Thales’s granddaughter, didn’t you? No matter, I can ask one of the servants.” He paused in a doorway just long enough to turn around and wave to me. “I look forward to spending more time with you, daughter!”
“I said don’t call me that!”
I was too late; he was already waltzing through the door, totally ignoring me.
I felt exhausted as he disappeared. “He’s got to be neck deep in debt.”
“To the gills, I reckon,” Indigo agreed.
I groaned and sagged against the stair banister. “Just my luck.”
Indigo shuffled her feet. “Do you need anything?”
I lethargically stared at a painting of a delicate fae dancing around a tree. “Yes. A latte—or a burger. Maybe a grilled steak.”
“I’ll place an order with the chef.”
“No! Sorry, I was kidding.” I rocketed upright and gave Indigo the strongest smile I could muster.
Indigo suspiciously peered up at me. “The chef would be gratified to cook you something. The whole kitchen is in an uproar because you won’t eat.”
I shook my head. “No. I—”
My stomach took that very inopportune time to rumble with enough strength I felt it in the back of my throat.
Indigo raised one judgmental eyebrow at me.
“I’ll just go back to my room for a snack,” I said.
“Would you like tea?”
“No, thank you.”
Indigo put her fists on her hips. “If I bring you a water bottle and a bag of peas or something, will you eat it?”
“If they’re unopened, yes.”
Indigo nodded, making the bun of her thick hair bob. “Fine. I’ll go get you something—and risk angering the chef further. I’ll bring it up to your room.” She marched off, her shoulders stiff with resolve.
“Thank you, Indigo!”
She waved, and slipped through the same door Lord Linus had.
I smiled fondly and climbed the first step of the stairs. I glanced around the room once more, freezing when I noticed something at the edge of the room.
My brain didn’t have enough time to identify Lord Rigel, the Wraith, before he stepped out of the shadow cast by the staircase.
His eyes, black and soulless, were trained on me. Today he wasn’t wearing his fancy jacket or scarf, and I could see his annoying aristocratic features including a long, perfect nose, high cheek bones, and a strong jaw.
I didn’t see any weapons on him—but he still wore leather bracers over his long sleeved, charcoal gray shirt.
Hopefully that meant he wasn’t here to kill me?
My nerves sloshed unhelpfully around my stomach as he approached me.
He stopped about ten feet away and didn’t bow or incline his head to me unlike every other fae I’d met. Instead he looked me over from head to toe. “No screaming today?” he asked in a voice that was simultaneously rich and almost smoky.
I shrugged—or I tried to shrug. It took a second attempt to make my shoulders move. “You’re not the scariest thing in the mansion.” I was impressed with myself because my voice didn’t shake.
The Wraith nodded. “You’re right.” He glanced at the door Indigo and Lord Linus had disappeared through and showed no inclination to move.
“Do you make it a habit to just lurk in the shadows, or is that part of your aesthetic?” I blurted out, my nerves removing the filter between my brain and my mouth.
He shifted his gaze back to me, and I deeply regretted speaking. “Call it an occupational hazard.”
I waited, but he didn’t leave. “Are you here to try killing me again?” I boldly asked.
The Wraith blinked. “You are my queen. I cannot raise a hand against you.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t attempt it,” I said. “Why are you here?” I asked.
The silenced stretched just long enough to make me start to sweat before the Wraith answered. “Curiosity.”
I think his honesty is the most terrifying thing about him, I realized. All the other fae feel like they have to thinly veil their hatred. But the Wraith is so powerful, he doesn’t care what I know.
I cleared my throat. “Curiosity about…?”
He stared at me.
“It’s a legitimate question,” I said. “There’s a lot for you to be curious about. In fact, I wish there was less for you to be curious about.”
He turned away. “I’ll see you again, Queen Leila.”
“I’d rather not,” I grumbled.
He mus
t have heard me because he turned to look back at me, his eyes extra dark and soulless.
I’ll admit it. I was weak.
I leaned against the stair railing when I could feel that I was teetering a little under his gaze, but I refused to fully give in to my fear, so I gave him the most obnoxious, joyful wave that I could, nearly dislocating my arm in my fake enthusiasm.
The Wraith blinked, then glided out of the room with an unnatural soundlessness.
I felt all the air leave my lungs with a collective exhale, then plopped down on the stair.
That was terrifying. And just think, I have all of this and more to look forward to for the rest of my life.
I shook my head, dislodging the pessimistic thought from my mind. “That’s not a help,” I muttered to myself, needing to hear the words out loud.
I stood up and brushed my dress off, then made myself climb the stairs and head back to my bedroom to wait for Indigo.
I wasn’t going to be beaten. Not by my Court, not by the Wraith, and not by myself.
Chapter Eleven
Leila
“And who is this?” Skye flipped her tablet around, displaying a picture of the beautiful blond fae who’d made the outcry when the Court first saw me.
“Lady Chrysanthe.” I rested my hands on the delicate wooden table I was seated at, feeling a bit like a kid in school, even though I was sitting in a stupidly lavish sitting room. “Lady Demetria’s granddaughter, and one of my haters.”
Skye nodded and flipped the tablet around to select her next target.
She’d been quizzing me on nobles ever since I’d hired her, but the day I had my run in with Lord Rigel the Wraith she’d increased the memorization sessions significantly because the Paragon had contacted me to organize my first fae social as a royal—which was going to be held in two days.
“Lord Argyos,” I said when she flipped her tablet back around.
Lord Linus—who was lounging on a couch and drinking a fae alcoholic beverage, snorted with laughter. “No chance of forgetting him.”
I shot him an impatient look. “Why are you here again?”
“I’m your advisor.” He aimlessly dragged a finger through the air. “I’m here to advise!”
I rolled my eyes but turned back to Skye.
Before my steward could select the next noble, there was a rap on the door, and Indigo poked her head in.
“Great news!” Her eyes shone as she scurried inside, an excited spring to her step. “The Day King is here!”
I frowned. “What? Why? Did one of my loitering nobles invite him?”
It seemed I was the only one who was concerned about his presence. Skye actually stood straighter, her delicate features flashing first with surprise and then her golden cheeks getting a pink hue. “The Day King is here? To meet with Queen Leila?”
Lord Linus actually hopped to his feet. “Excellent! Solis is a good sort. Leila, you need to go down and greet him!”
“He’s requested an audience with you, Queen Leila,” Indigo said.
“This is an excellent opportunity.” Skye clapped her hands together once. “King Solis is the best tempered monarch in our region, and the Day Court is a place of warmth and beauty. If you can make a favorable impression on him, it will do much for your reputation. That he’s visiting you before you’ve even been publicly crowned is a great honor.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
The word was barely out of my lips before Skye and Indigo whisked me out of the room and escorted me through the mansion, with Lord Linus following on our heels.
I’d read up some on the Day King, King Solis.
He was beloved by his people and had a good reputation among the other Courts. He was adored, however, by humans.
Not that I blamed them. He was the Day King. I’d caught glimpses of him when attending a party at the Drakes’, and he was handsome in a celebrity kind of way, and seemed pretty charismatic.
That’s why I was prepared when Skye and Indigo practically shoved me into the sitting room where the Day King was waiting.
He was as handsome as humans made him out to be with braided hair the same warm, golden color as the morning sun, and the timeless beauty of a fae. He looked like he was maybe in his early forties due to some fine lines around his eyes, but they seemed to give his face a sort of warmth and realness that most fae—with their flawless skin and stoic expressions—lacked. In reality, he was probably a lot older than his forties, given that my own biological father appeared to be in his mid-thirties.
The Day King stood when we entered the room, revealing that he was actually taller than me, and making his robes—made of gold and red silk—rustle with the movement.
“Queen Leila of the Night Court,” Skye bowed first to me, then swiveled and bowed again to my royal visitor. “King Solis of the Day Court.”
King Solis smiled, making him even more dazzling. “Queen Leila,” he said. “It is my honor.”
“The honor is all mine, King Solis.” I evaded an end table that held a stoneware tea set that was glazed jade green, and made my way to the star patterned chair directly across from the wooden chair he’d been sitting in.
Now that I stood closer to him, I could see he wore a gold circlet studded with red and orange gems threaded through his hair, and the crest of the Day Court—a rising sun—was embroidered into his robes.
“Thank you for seeing me today.” He sat down in the chair, somehow able to make it seem throne-like even though it was unadorned and simple in design. “I’m sorry for dropping in with no prior notice.”
“I’m a new…queen,” I said—I still wasn’t quite able to say the title without stumbling over it. It still felt foreign, and like a lie. “I’m highly gratified you deigned to visit me at all.”
King Solis smiled slightly, but didn’t comment on my honesty. “I actually wanted to thank you.”
Surprised, I furrowed my brow. “For what?”
“Fax,” he said, naming the older sun stallion I’d elected to keep. “My steward told me you were selling all but the oldest sun stallion and submitted the deals through us to broker a proper buyer.”
He met my gaze, and the honesty and warmth in his eyes was shocking. “He said you’d chosen to keep Fax, and that your stable managers said you wished to provide him with a comfortable home for the remainder of his life.”
“He’s in great health—he still gets ridden and exercised,” I said.
“Yes, but I’m aware he’s of the age where he shouldn’t join in on the races—possibly even the hunts,” King Solis said.
Just how many races and hunts do the fae hold?!
“And I know some Courts would be unwilling to have the expense of keeping a sun stallion if it could not be shown off,” King Solis added.
“Yes, well, I take pet ownership as a serious charge—and he seems to get along great with the night mares. I’m happy to provide a home for him.”
King Solis leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad as well. It seems like the Night Court finally has a good queen.”
“I’m not certain my subjects would agree with you there,” I said plainly—it wasn’t like the entire fae race didn’t know my human blood horrified my nobles.
“As you said, you are a new queen. You need time to grow into your role,” King Solis said. “But I am greatly encouraged.”
I blinked—a little surprised by the king’s warm but frank manners, which went against everyone else I’d met in this mess. “Encouraged?”
“The Day Court and Night Court are inescapably linked due to our shared natures,” King Solis said. “We’re the opposite faces on the same coin. When the Night Court suffers, so does the Day Court. And the Night Court has not been well for…some time.”
It’s pretty telling how bad things are when a king from a totally different Court is concerned for you.
I pressed my fingertips together as I carefully considered my next words. “I didn’t know the Day Court and Night Court were depende
nt. I always admired the Day Court when I was a kid.”
I’d actually spent years wishing my fae blood came from the Day Court and not the Night Court, but I didn’t need to unload on him like this was a therapy session.
“The Day Court is, thankfully, thriving now. But I’m aware things could get worse.” He waited until I met his gaze before continuing. “If you should need any advice—or a word from someone experienced—I should be honored to guide you.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at the king. “I appreciate it.”
King Solis frowned slightly, furrowing his forehead so his golden eyebrows knit together. “In fact, I suppose now is as good a time as any to warn you. In late July we’ll have the annual Magiford Midsummer Derby. During which, you’ll meet all of the Court monarchs in the Midwest. Make sure you stay clear of the Autumn King.” He slightly shook his head. “He can be a poor sport.”
That big of a jerk, is he?
I resolved to ask Skye about the Autumn King—and what the heck the Magiford Midsummer Derby was—as King Solis stood.
“But I’ve taken enough of your time.” He twitched his robes straight and graced me with another smile as warm and mellow as sunshine. “Please allow me to say again that I am delighted with the dedication you have shown Fax—and that you are the Queen of the Night Court.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I hope together my stable manager and your people can find the rest of the sun stallions wonderful homes.”
I reached the door first and opened it, revealing Eventide—who was quivering a little—Skye and her tablet, and Lord Linus—who had gotten himself a paper straw with watermelons on it and was sipping at what was probably his third refill of his alcoholic beverage.
When Eventide saw King Solis he threw himself into a deep bow. “P-please excuse the interruption, King Solis, Queen Leila.”
“No worries, Eventide. We’re finished.” I turned around to the king. “Can you find your way out, King Solis?”
“I can show King Solis to his car,” Skye volunteered, offering a little bow to both of us.
I smiled. “Great, thanks Skye.”
King Solis winked. “In that case, good day to you, Queen Leila.”