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

by K. M. Shea

  “HAH! I knew I saw you that night I met them!” I pointed a finger at him. “But that’s a solid miss.”

  Lord Rigel narrowed his dark eyes. “Then what are you trying to accomplish? You dare to shoot back at a fae that bothers your companion—”

  “—shooting at Indigo is way more than bothering her!”

  “But you don’t immediately eliminate a threat against your life.”

  “Yeah, because due process is a thing! I’m not gonna let heads roll without evidence!”

  “You act strong when your life is in danger to impress your Court, but then make your personal seal the vermin of our realm?”

  Oh-ho-ho, we’ve got ourselves a nosebox here!

  “You are wildly unpredictable, and you’re acting in an unstable way that could topple what little balance of power we’ve managed to achieve in the Court,” Lord Rigel said.

  Never mind. He’s just obsessed with this stupid game of power.

  “As best as I see it, you are either wholly oblivious and an idiot in your humanity, or you so deeply despise fae that you intend to destroy us.”

  “Hey, now. I don’t dislike fae. I just find you all excessively annoying.”

  “Queen Leila,” Lord Rigel said in a tone of voice I was pretty sure most people didn’t survive hearing.

  I blew out a breath of air. “You’re overthinking things, and trying to connect my actions in patterns that a fae would move in.”

  “You are not a naïve human.”

  “No.”

  “Then that makes you a threat, because the way you plan to play the game—”

  Something in me broke. I don’t know if it was the irritation of all the fae pressing me to try to see the world in the broken, horrible way they saw it, or if it was the sheer frustration that the Night Court was so backwards no one could even fathom escaping these politics.

  “I don’t want to play the game,” I shouted. “I want to destroy it!”

  Lord Rigel fell silent, but he’d pushed me into talking.

  “I am sick and tired of all these time-consuming, energy-wasting politics the fae play, when the Night Realm is crumbling around us, the Court is in debt up to its ears, and the fae want to use stupid, sneery little insults to try to score a point over one another? Who has time to care about that?”

  “While your motive is…noble, you can’t break out of this game. It’s been going on for centuries, and no one has successfully been able to stay out of it,” Lord Rigel said.

  “I never said I wanted to break out—I said I wanted to end it,” I growled.

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “You are a fae, and you’ve escaped the game!”

  “It might appear so, but how do you think I got everyone to avoid me?”

  I paused.

  Is he—no. No, he can’t be saying he became an assassin to keep everyone away? I just figured it was an example of his terrible morals.

  I set my jaw. “I don’t care. I’m going to end this game. I don’t know if it’s because I’m half human, or because I’m only half fae, but I can see that these stupid ploys are going to be the end of the Night Court if someone doesn’t change something. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s bringing change to this stale Court.”

  Lord Rigel shifted, briefly ringing the alarm bells in my mind. “I don’t think you can do it.”

  I leaned against the railing of the bridge. “And I don’t think you’ve truly seen fae cunning crossed with human ingenuity yet—especially if you think humans are idiots.”

  Lord Rigel briefly touched his arm bracers in a way that made me think there was a hidden blade in them. “I suspect it will be apparent very quickly whether or not you can win. After all, events like today will never stop if you can’t bring the Court to heel.”

  AKA, he thinks I’ll get myself killed if I don’t start playing the game. Whatever.

  Aloud, I said, “It’s fine.”

  “You tend to say that a lot—typically when it isn’t fine.”

  “I’m still alive, aren’t I? It’s fine,” I insisted.

  Lord Rigel turned, and the magic bubble popped. “It is to be hoped, for your sake, that you are right.”

  He left as silently as he had arrived.

  I shivered a bit, watching when Lord Rigel reached Lord Dion and exchanged a few words with his friend.

  The red haired fae lord smiled at him, but brightened even more when Lord Rigel looked back at me. He slapped the Wraith on the back, then started in my direction—probably continuing his plan to win me over for marriage.

  And that’s the best option I have—a fae who will marry me for the good of his Court. What’s the likelihood he’s not going to be thrilled with my ‘destroy the game’ goal?

  I looked from the incoming Lord Dion to the rest of the Court.

  But I don’t think there’s a better option…is there?

  My phone rang—its Lord of the Rings ringtone slightly muffled in my clutch.

  I hurriedly ripped it out and picked up the call when I saw it was from Chase. “What did you find out?”

  “He didn’t do it,” Chase said, sounding disgusted. “We found the ball—it was bespelled. The fae that actually hit the ball never knew about it.”

  “And you can’t track whoever placed the spell.”

  “Correct. We do know it was a fae spell, though. Unfortunately, we can’t confirm if it came from within your Court or a different one.”

  “Yeah, that’s expected.” The kind of supernatural you were affected how the magic felt or tasted, but that was it. You didn’t leave a particular signature on it or anything, and it couldn’t be traced back to individuals. “I’m betting it’s someone from my Court—though I’d love to know how they’re getting around the magic.”

  “Even without proof I still have suspicions. Since they were present, we questioned both Lord Myron and Lady Chrysanthe. Both were able to say they didn’t try to kill you.”

  “And as fae they can’t lie.”

  “In theory. But I’m almost certain it’s one of them.”

  “Lady Chrysanthe, probably. She seems to take the greatest offense to me,” I sighed. “She was in the group I saw at the restaurant, too.”

  “It’s quite probable.”

  I sighed.

  “Your orders?”

  Lord Dion was almost on me, now. Hurriedly, I turned my back to him and rushed to say, “Keep investigating. But we can’t make any formal charges yet.”

  “As queen, you don’t need to formally charge anyone.”

  “Maybe, but as little as I like my Court I don’t want to be a tyrant. Thank you for your work, Chase.”

  “Of course, Queen Leila.”

  I made myself drop my grim look as I turned around to smile at the charming fae lord.

  Even though I felt defeated, I was determined.

  I don’t care what Lord Rigel says. I’m going to end this pointless game.

  Days passed, and the end of July was nearly upon us.

  I had three events I had to survive: picking who I was going to marry and surviving that marriage, the annual Magiford Midsummer Derby—which was for fae only and I was supposed to choose representatives who raced on behalf of my Court—and my crowning.

  I intended to enter the race myself, and I had been training the night mares for months, so that was probably the least worrisome event, even though—according to Skye—the outcome of the race would greatly impact the standing of the Night Court.

  No, what kept me up at night was picking my future hubby.

  The week of the race, I was up late, going over the detailed rules to the race while cuddled up with Kevin, Steve, and Whiskers out in the stables. Our pile up was apparently too hot for Muffin, who was snoozing in front of Nebula’s stall.

  I smiled and watched the mare lower her head over the door of her stall and lip the cat’s head. I sucked in a breath and tried to focus on the documents, but my eyes were tired, and everything
was turning squiggly.

  To think, I once thought the greatest tragedy in my life was that I couldn’t get a job and launch my Responsible Adult plan. Hah!

  “Queen Leila?”

  I leaned forward, slightly upsetting Steve, who was curled around my back. “Skye? What are you doing up this late?”

  Today Skye was wearing a pencil skirt and a pastel yellow shirt, but to my surprise, she sat down in the middle of the aisle despite her business clothes. “I’m well aware you’ve been staying up late.”

  “Did Chase tell you?” I play scowled. “Considering he’s my director of security he certainly doesn’t hesitate to leak information to you and Indigo!”

  “It’s because he’s such a good director of security that he does so.” Skye tilted her head in thought for a moment. “That, and his werewolf nature which drives him to protect you—even from yourself.” She shifted her dark gaze to me. “You’re reading up on the Magiford Midsummer Derby?”

  “Yeah. I figured I better make sure I don’t break some random rule that the other rulers use as an excuse to hate me. It says each Court that enters must enter a minimum of six horses, but it says nothing about the required number of riders—that seems weird to me.”

  “Ah, I believe that rule was made because a number of the local seelie and unseelie Courts that are normally too small to enter would try to ride double and put an inexperienced rider with an experienced one that would control the horse, thus doubling their rider count, allowing them to enter.”

  “You can’t race while riding double!”

  Skye shrugged. “You cannot win. But it’s vital for any Court that wants to increase its reputation to at least enter. Only those who place near the top increase their Court’s power, however, which is why the regional Courts struggle greatly to win and overcome their rivals.”

  I glanced down at my papers. “Huh. Interesting.”

  Skye brushed something off her pencil skirt. “I assume it is the prospect of your marriage that keeps you up?”

  “Yeah.” I put my papers down and scratched behind Kevin’s ears. “I’ve been trying to puzzle it through for weeks, but I think it’ll have to be Lord Dion.”

  “You sound reluctant.”

  “It’s because I am,” I admitted. “I feel like marrying him is just a survival tactic—not that we’d truly be fantastic together or because I specifically think he can help me with my goals and plans for the Court. But no matter how many times I’ve thought it over, there’s no one else.”

  Silence stretched between us.

  Skye delicately placed her hands on her knees. “Do you wish to set a date to make an official announcement?”

  It’s not like someone who is exactly what I want is going to pop out of the Night Realm like magic.

  “Yeah. How about in a few days? There’s no sense putting it off until the end of summer when I have no other options besides Dion. Oh, but do I need to warn him?”

  “Not necessarily.” Skye said. “In fact, it is strongly encouraged that the monarch does not ask their marriage partner ahead of time.”

  “Why not? So everyone can witness the humiliation if the other person says no?” I paused. “The other person is allowed to say no, right?”

  “They are.” Skye leaned backwards when Whiskers sat up and inquisitively shoved his long whiskers in her direction. “The silence was often adopted to hold back any political ramifications that other nobles might enact, but I suggest you don’t tell him…in case you change your mind at the last moment.”

  “An escape route? Skye—aren’t you cunning!” I smiled at her and studied my animals. “In that case, schedule the announcement for Friday.”

  “Very well.” Skye hesitantly patted Whiskers on the head with the very stilted motion of someone not used to animals, then stood. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “Thank you, Skye. You’re priceless.”

  She bowed, and turned on her heels.

  “Hey, Skye?”

  “Yes, Queen Leila?” She turned back around and smiled at me.

  “Can you think of anyone else we might be missing?”

  She slightly pursed her lips. “The Day King, perhaps?”

  “Eww! Heck no. He looks older than Linus—which means he’s got to be older than him! And I am not marrying someone older than my biological father.”

  Skye smiled. “Lord Linus would be greatly encouraged to hear that you referred to him as your biological father.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the thought, Skye, but that is a hard pass.”

  “As you say, Queen Leila.”

  I sighed, listening as her footsteps clicked down the stable aisle.

  My marriage has a huge potential to help me destroy all of these petty alliances and power moves. But Lord Dion has an alliance with the Paragon. And while I like the Paragon, that somehow doesn’t feel right either. Hah, I never thought what would disappoint me most about my marriage is who my husband’s friends are!

  The evening of my engagement announcement, my stomach had taken up the delightful hobby of practicing flips in my guts.

  I stared with a twist of fascination and horror as Skye climbed into the fancy, wrought iron gazebo that had green vines twisting up its sides. “May I have your attention?” she called to the crowd of fae that had invaded the mansion’s gardens that evening.

  She kept talking, but I didn’t hear it. My heart was thumping too loudly for her voice to cut through. “I’m going to be sick,” I whispered. I was hiding behind a bush trimmed to resemble an English teapot and was thankfully out of my Court’s eyesight at the moment.

  “No you’re not,” Indigo said. “You’re just nervous—unless you’re serious?” Her forehead furrowed. “But I was very careful to only make bland foods for you for the past two days—just in case.”

  “That’s why you made potato soup and rice gruel? Aww, Indigo, you’re too thoughtful!” I tried to smile, but I couldn’t tell if I was or not. My whole body had gone numb.

  The fae meandered down to the end of the gardens where the gazebo was, whispering to each other as they gathered beneath the darkening sky. Today they were putting on their “refined” act, which meant they were dressed like British royals. Now that I’d figured out how their costumes changed with the image they wanted to convey, it was a lot easier trying to figure out what games they were playing. I’d bet today they were proper and powerful because no one had a legit idea who I was going to choose, so they needed to cover their bases.

  “It’s fine.” I rolled my shoulders back and tried to listen to the crickets to calm my churning stomach.

  We had to hold the announcement outside because it was the only place big enough for the crowd that had come today—a bunch of the common fae were here, too.

  Indigo had actually introduced me to her parents—who were incredibly pleasant brownies with warm smiles and not a single cross thing to say. I peeked down at Indigo.

  She scowled at me. “What?”

  Yep. No idea how their pleasantness combined created her.

  “I still think we should have held the announcement earlier in the day,” I grumbled. “Holding it at twilight means we had to haul a bunch of lights out here and have all the servants use their magic to create those light orbs. Talk about inefficient.”

  “Chase certainly tried to back you up—though I think he was more concerned about ill-wishers being able to hide.”

  I laughed, but the sound was flat and nervous.

  Indigo reached up and gently touched my elbow. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous.”

  “It’s because before this I haven’t had to pick who I’d spend the rest of my life with—and, more importantly, who is going to be my closest ally.”

  “Ah, yeah, that’s a good point.” Indigo squinted at the wide array of fae. “To be honest, I figured you’d pull another one of your shenanigans out and surprise us all. But Lord Dion is a solid candidate. Plu
s, I’m pretty sure you’ll break him in under a month.”

  I couldn’t respond as I stared out at the fae. All of the nobles were present—looking bored and vaguely offended even though I hadn’t addressed them tonight.

  The common fae openly looked back and forth between Skye—still making her announcements—and me.

  I saw a few I knew from the various Court functions I’d gone to—a family of highly respected pixies, the representative from the trolls, a few centaurs, a mermaid had even come for the occasion—she was sitting in the giant fountain in the center of the garden courtyard.

  Why is everyone staring at me? I jerked my gaze to Skye, who gave me an encouraging nod.

  “Is it time?” I whispered to Indigo.

  “Yes.” Indigo’s forehead wrinkles grew. “Do you need help?”

  “Nah. I can walk. Thanks, though.” I tried to smile at her again, then climbed down the stairs of the little stone patio we’d been standing on, and took the pathway through the fae that magically opened up for me.

  I think I get why Skye insisted I wear gloves tonight even though it’s not really in style. My palms are so sweaty, I could fingerpaint. I wonder if Indigo picked out a mermaid style gown because I can’t run easily in it?

  For today’s auspicious occasion, I’d been poured into a gown that flared at the knees. It was such a deep blue color it was almost black, though it had silver trim around the bottom of the skirt, and the neckline was designed to look like glittering stars.

  Don’t trip. Don’t trip. Don’t trip. I glanced up and happened to catch Lady Chrysanthe’s eye.

  She glared at me, then leaned into Lord Myron and whispered.

  The look Lord Myron gave her was…odd. It was sneery, and if I didn’t know better I’d say I had seen this expression before—when he was looking at me. It didn’t matter; as she spoke, his expression smoothed over, and he grinned at her and said something back.

  Their little exchange reminded me, though.

  I’m not going to let the fae know how much this stupid engagement thing bothers me. Least of all Lord Dion—I don’t want him pouncing for power if he thinks he can take it.