Crown of Shadows (Court of Midnight and Deception Book 1)

by K. M. Shea

  Today, he’d wormed his way into coming to the Night Realm with me by offering to hold Bagel’s lead rope as I practiced magic.

  But I still didn’t like the guy all that much.

  I gave the fae a sharp nod, then turned my back to him and squinted through the darkness. “Right again.”

  The night mares, still moving as one, turned again.

  “Now left!”

  The night mares turned accordingly.

  “You’re so good! Come on in!”

  The night mares trotted up to me, encircling me so I could easily pat each of their necks and kiss their muzzles.

  Lord Linus watched us as he rubbed at an itchy spot on Bagel’s neck, making the donkey melt into him. “I get why you’re practicing with the ward. But what’s up with the night mares?”

  “Why am I teaching them verbal commands?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  I smiled and rubbed Twilight’s forehead. “Because I like them, and I’ve decided I’m going to make them a bigger part of my Court—because I want to.”

  And because maybe, just maybe, I’m thinking about entering the Magiford Midsummer Derby with one of them.

  I expected Lord Linus to protest—maybe trot a complaint out about tradition or something—but he just nodded. “Okay, then.”

  “You’re not going to protest?”

  “Why would I?”

  I smiled when Blue Moon rested his chin on my shoulder. “Because it goes against tradition?”

  “You’re Queen of the Night Court,” he said. “You don’t have to follow tradition. I don’t think you should even have to get married to be crowned, but does anyone listen to me? No!”

  I waited for a deeper explanation, but it seemed he was content to partially sidestep the issue. “Technically I’m not even training them right—I’m supposed to use the words gee and haw for turning, but I couldn’t ever keep those terms straight, and it seems stupid when the night mares can understand most of what I say anyways.”

  “So?” Lord Linus frowned a little when Bagel smeared green spit on his shirt, then shrugged. “You could ride your night mares through the mansion hallways and I wouldn’t care. I’m just pleased you’re talking to me without sneering—for once.”

  What is up with this guy? I narrowed my eyes and clenched my prism tight. His airheaded ways are too real to be an act—especially because fae don’t act. They veil, cheat, and betray, but they do all of that with stoic expressions. They don’t act stupid for fun. Is he really an idiot?

  Lord Linus caught me staring at him. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  He grinned. “No, no, don’t retreat now! You felt it, right? Our father-daughter bond! You’re finally willing to accept all my paternal love!”

  Yeah, he’s definitely an idiot—or he would know to read me better.

  Lord Linus sighed happily. “I’ll have to tell Chase! I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know our relationship is deepening!”

  “No, it’s not,” I said.

  “It is! It absolutely is! You just went five full minutes without insulting me or scowling! Where’s my cellphone? I should take a picture to commemorate the moment.”

  Disgusted, I turned away from him.

  That was when I caught sight of the gloom, standing at the base of a tree, flicking its tail.

  “Hey there, beautiful. Did you want something?” I held out my hand.

  The gloom bounded across the meadow, fearlessly twining itself through the night mares’ legs and rubbing its head against my hand.

  Its purr was a deep, rusty sound I could feel in my fingers as it leaned into me.

  Lord Linus whistled. “Your mother told me your magic made you good with animals. It was pretty obvious from the way the night mares adore you, but I confess, I didn’t think you were strong enough to bring in the glooms.”

  The gloom was desperately leaning into me, as if it wanted to soak up every little bit of contact that it could.

  “Good kitty.” I winced when I stroked its back, feeling its bones through its skin on the patches where it was missing hair.

  An eerie howl—similar to a wolf’s but more jagged and sharp—sliced through the air.

  I had to nudge Nebula aside so I could see the shade standing behind them.

  It was a barely decipherable black blob—I could barely make out its outline since the Night Realm didn’t have a full moon tonight, but its head was easy to spot because its orange eyes disturbingly glowed in the dark.

  “Perfect timing. Come on, kitty-cat. Guys, could you move?”

  The night mares dispersed, letting me walk closer to the shade.

  I stopped about halfway to it and crouched down. “Are you here to say hello?” I asked it, even as the gloom leaned into my shoulder and purred.

  The shade wagged its tail, then cautiously slunk up to me. I offered it my hand, and it nosed me—its nose unnaturally dry and scratchy.

  I need to get a vet out here.

  I petted the shade. “You’re a good puppy, aren’t you? Yes you are!”

  It sat down like a dog at an obedience class, its ears perked and tail thumping on the ground.

  “But I’m glad you’re both here.” I addressed the gloom and shade together. “Because I wanted to ask—do any of you want to come live with me?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Leila

  “Queen Leila, we need to discuss—” Skye strode into my library, but her arms shot out and she gripped the doorway when she saw the four glooms and seven shades sitting around me and Chase.

  “What? What is it?” Indigo pushed her head into the space between Skye and the door with a scowl, which shifted immediately to surprise as her eyes grew as big as moons.

  “Indigo, Skye—perfect timing!” I smiled. “I’d like you to meet our newest additions to the mansion!”

  I waded through the shades and pointed to each animal as I named it. “We have Bob, Larry, Barbra, Mary, Tom.” The shades flicked their ears as I said their names.

  I paused in front of the last two—the biggest shade of the pack, and a smaller one that had adorable gray front paws. “And this is Kevin and Steve—Steve is, in fact, a girl. I just didn’t think to check before I started naming, and now she won’t answer to anything but Steve.”

  “Steve?” Skye repeated, staring at the shades in a way that said there was going to be a shopping trip for more antacids in her future.

  “Yep. Then for the glooms we have Fluffy and Patches over here, and then Whiskers & Muffin.” I rested my hand on Muffin’s head—she had a cute little swirl of red fur on her forehead while Whiskers had excessively long, white whiskers.

  Indigo stared at my new menagerie. “I’m assuming there is a reason why you gave the shades the most bland, human names ever, and the glooms all sound like pet cats?”

  “I spent a really long time on my night mares’ names—I wanted to give them beautiful names that would make people see their beauty.” I clapped my hands together. “That didn’t work. I figured this time I should concentrate on using their names to lower their potential fear factor a little. I don’t know if it worked. What do you think, Chase?”

  The werewolf rubbed his jaw as he stared down at Whiskers, who was leaning into him and purring. “I think I might prefer a higher fear factor for the sake of security.” He absently patted Whiskers’s back as he pulled out his cellphone.

  “I was introducing them to Chase, so they’d know to go to him if they see anything weird or dangerous,” I said. “But I should probably introduce them to you, too.”

  Indigo sucked in a deep breath that made her puff up like a hedgehog, then stiffly marched deeper into the library.

  Skye took a few steps and paused—I think out of confusion and not fear based on the way she furrowed her eyebrows. “You believe they can understand such things?”

  “Oh, for sure.” I nearly fell over when Kevin and Steve crowded my space, asking for more pets. “My natural magic is the
one part about my fae heritage I’m confident in, and it’s a bit of a cheat code that makes whatever animals I work with smarter. But even beyond that, the fae creatures are way more intelligent than your typical pet dog. They’re a cinch to work with—once they trust you.”

  Indigo was still puffed out with fear as she thrust her hand out to Steve. “Nice to meet you.”

  Steve sniffed her hand, then leaned her massive head forward and licked Indigo’s cheek, her tail wagging wildly.

  Indigo made a strangled noise. “Their breath is awful.” She squeaked when Whiskers—bored since Chase was busy—sniffed her back and then leaned into her. Since Indigo was smaller, the shades were taller than her, and the glooms were nearly eye height.

  “Do you think they could be taught to watch for certain individuals, or pick up distinctive smells?” Chase squatted down and took Fluffy’s picture.

  “Yeah, but not right away,” I said. “It’s going to take them some time to adjust to living here and not in the Night Realm.

  “Living here?” Skye asked with extra politeness in her voice.

  Chase nodded, then addressed the cat. “You’re Patches?”

  The real Patches tapped her paw on Chase’s shoulder.

  “My apologies, then you must be Fluffy?”

  Fluffy purred and twitched his whiskers.

  Chase tapped away on his cellphone. “I’ll make certain to send their pictures to my men.”

  “Thanks, Chase.” I sat on the arm of one of the comfortable couches.

  Chase bowed slightly, then moved on to taking the shades’ pictures.

  “You said we needed to talk about something, Skye?” I asked.

  Skye squared her shoulders. “Yes, Queen Leila.” She glided forward, stopping respectably short of the animals. She held out her hand, and both Kevin and Muffin meandered up to her.

  Kevin licked her hand while Muffin twined around her like a house cat.

  Apparently, they like all of my people. That’s a relief—but maybe I shouldn’t rely too much on their opinion. They liked Lord Linus a lot, which doesn’t demonstrate good judgment.

  Irritated, I pushed away the memory of Lord Linus rubbing Kevin’s belly while the big shade twitched his paws in glee.

  The glooms and shades opened up a little path for Skye, who took it, then set her tablet down. “We have two matters to discuss. Firstly, you must decide on your personal seal.”

  I frowned. “My what?”

  “Your personal seal.” Skye flipped her tablet around to show me. “The Night Court has an official seal that is used for any official statements, papers, alliances, etcetera, that need to be posted to other Courts, to the Curia Cloisters, or to other supernaturals. It stands for our Court—and by extension your will.” She tapped a picture of a seal—a crescent moon and a few stars—pressed into navy blue wax.

  “However, you need a personal seal to use on all internal documents—any statements you might give specifically just in the Court, anything that needs you to bear witness like passing estates on to children, tax documents, basically anything that will stay in our Court but needs to be marked so the citizens know it comes from you.”

  I plopped down in my leather office chair, which wheezed out air. “It’s just for internal stuff? No one outside the Night Court will see it—including other Courts?”

  “Correct. Given Court loyalty—and the…competitive spirit between Courts—no one outside the Night Court would ever see this seal, given that it would mean they are looking at important internal documents.” Skye swiped on her tablet, showing a new display of seals, all pressed into wax blobs. “Here are examples from past rulers.”

  The seals varied greatly from fierce—a scythe slashing through a full moon—to beautiful—a flower in front of tiny stars. There was even one with a gloom on it—although it didn’t look as underfed or have patchy fur like mine.

  “Okay.” I thoughtfully leaned back in my chair.

  Skye bowed slightly. “I expect you’ll need a few days to think it over.”

  “Nah.” A grin crawled across my lips. “I know exactly what I want in my seal.”

  Ohh, this was going to be fun.

  Skye pulled a stylus out of a pocket in her suitcoat and took her tablet back. Once she got to a new screen, she held her stylus above the tablet in preparation. “Yes?”

  “It’s a creature from the Night Realm,” I said.

  Skye nodded as she started to write on her tablet. “An appropriate choice. What one?”

  My big grin made my cheeks hurt. “For my seal, I want a pigeon-racoon-griffin.”

  “You want one of those trash pickers?” Indigo yelped. “But they’re disgusting—they’re vermin!”

  “I know. That’s why I want it,” I said.

  Skye’s eyes widened slightly, but she wrote it down.

  “You’ve lost your mind,” Indigo flatly said.

  “Nope—I have a really good reason for it.” I wanted to look cool and set my feet up on the edge of my desk, but it was a really nice desk, and my parents raised me better than that, so I leaned forward and rested my elbows on it instead.

  “I’ve finished with the photos—I’ll explain things to my people immediately,” Chase interrupted. He bowed to me, nodded to Indigo and Skye, then beat a hasty retreat like a man who knew something was about to go down and he wanted no part of it.

  Indigo had her hands propped up on her hips and didn’t even acknowledge Chase’s flight. “What kind of idiotic reason could inspire you to pick out the realm vermin as your seal?”

  “Because every last noble is going to hate it,” I purred.

  “But it’s not going to stabilize your position, or increase your reputation,” Skye said.

  “Yeah, I’m aware of that. And I don’t care anymore.”

  Skye almost dropped her stylus. “W-what do you mean?”

  “This game that the Paragon told me about—the way I need to win over my Court and establish a strong front of power? I’m not interested in it.”

  “Queen Leila.” Skye sat down in one of the chairs pulled up to my desk for the first time since I interviewed her. “What do you mean? You have to play for power—there is no other way.”

  “You don’t think there is another way, because there’s never been another way,” I corrected. “And there’s also never been a half human…half fae on the throne before.”

  “I’ll bite.” Indigo hopped into the other chair, draping her arm over the side to pet Kevin. “What are you up to?”

  Muffin made her way over to me and leaned into my chair. I petted her—a warm comfort as I tried to figure out how to explain everything.

  Indigo is mine—I know she’ll stick with me. I think Skye will. I hope she will. But I have to tell them either way. I can’t keep my closest people in the dark.

  “I’ve been too reactive,” I said. “I respond to insults, attempts on my life, and attacks on my people. I’m sick of just sitting around waiting for stuff to happen in order for me to really do anything.”

  “If you were more aware of the intricacies of fae life, it would be easier to respond,” Skye admitted.

  “Yeah, except I’m not. And I don’t think I ever will be—I don’t want to be. The fae are screwed up.” I stroked the red spot on Muffin’s head. “But I’m done being reactive. It’s time for me to go on the offense. But I’m not going to do it the classic fae way—no murders, no insults, no social snubs or stupid ploys like that. I’m going to troll my Court.”

  “Troll?” Skye asked.

  “Since they’re offended by me, I’m not going to hide what makes me different. I’m not going to conform to their picture of what a queen should and shouldn’t do. I’m going to name my pets whatever I want. I’m going to put a pigeon-raccoon-griffin on my seal to show them just how little I actually care what they think, and I’m going to rip this current system apart.”

  Indigo adjusted her cat eye glasses. “That’s what bringing your donkey here was�
�the first shots fired in this new campaign of yours.”

  In my surprise that she’d caught on already, I stopped petting Muffin. The cat shoved her head under my hand, restarting my brain. “Yes.”

  “And what do you hope to accomplish by this?” Skye asked. She didn’t seem upset—surprised, yes, and maybe curious. But she hadn’t gotten her antacids tin out, yet, which was a good sign. “And do you mean to do the same with the other Courts?”

  “The Night Court thinks they can yank me around—I just want to show them that they can’t. I don’t know about the other Courts, yet. I’ve only met King Solis, and something tells me he’s not the norm.”

  “No, he’s far dreamier and kind hearted than the rest of the Courts.” Indigo sighed in appreciation.

  Skye tapped her stylus on her tablet, then nodded. “Very well.”

  I blinked, surprised. “You’re just going to accept it?”

  Skye shrugged. “I am your steward—I do what you tell me. It’s in the job description. Besides, you have proven your desire to do what is right by your struggle with your studies and your desperation to improve your magic. Truthfully, I don’t understand what you mean to do, but I am confident enough that—based on your past actions—you don’t seek to get everyone killed.”

  “No,” I agreed. “Just ruffle some feathers.”

  “Yes,” Skye hesitantly agreed. “Which is something the Night Court, perhaps, needs right now.” She cleared her throat, then looked down at her stylus. “I will see to it that several sample sketches are drawn up for your seal.”

  “Thank you, Skye. Was there something else you wanted to ask me?”

  “Yes, about your marriage—have you given it any thought?”

  I groaned and let my head fall and thump my desk. “Not much since you last mentioned it.” I peeled my forehead off the table and made myself look at her. “Is there anyone besides Lord Dion who is at all remotely trustworthy?”

  “Trustworthy is not a word I would often use to describe any fae, Queen Leila,” Skye said.

  “You can say that again,” Indigo muttered.