by K. M. Shea
“Yes. There’s an art to it. The drink is soothing and warm—something fae are not known for. And in drinking tea, there is no room for politics or war. It’s about appreciating the drink, and the beauty of the stoneware or tea set used. It’s perhaps the only occasion in which we are not attempting to one up each other. Fae are desperate to hold on to that fleeting peace.”
I was starting to feel the prickles of guilt.
I got peace in riding my night mares and playing with my glooms or shades, or in going to King’s Court Café, or calling Mom and Dad. There were a million things I could do for fun as someone who had grown up human.
But no one else in my Court could do stuff like that. To them, life was a chessboard, and everything they did was a political statement.
Is that why they’ve been happily accepting the other human forms of entertainment I’ve tried introducing them to? Like mini golfing and movie theaters? Because that also provides a break for them?
“Of course, tea doesn’t bar verbal barbs or insults,” Skye said. “But it’s as close as we can get to being content. At least it was, before you. There’s been a distinct shift in the Courts—in more ways than one.”
Thinking of the ruined Night Realm, I grimaced. “At least we’re seeing some change.”
“Changing the culture of the Court is the hardest thing you can face,” Skye said. “And influencing the other monarchs—as you already have—would have been what most would have considered an impossible task. You have accomplished so much. You need to celebrate it.”
“You’re right—again, like you always are.” I grinned at her.
Skye raised an eyebrow. “I’d like to challenge you to remember that the next time you hatch a harebrained scheme that I advise against.”
I laughed. “Yeah, okay, I deserved that.”
Skye primly sipped her tea, but when she set her cup down, her expression was contemplative. “Is there anything I can do to ease your worries with the Night Realm?”
“How’d you know that’s what I was thinking of?”
“It’s the only thing that gives you a troubled expression these days—which is frankly worrying given that there are ongoing attempts on your life.” She reproachfully eyed me.
I smirked and rubbed the side of my to go cup. “I’d actually appreciate your help—but I don’t want to overload you. You already work crazy hours.”
“Then tell me as your friend, not your employee,” Skye said.
Chapter Eight
Leila
I almost teared up at that—I really loved Skye, Indigo, and Chrysanthe, but Skye was a little less forward with her emotions than the other two, so her declaration of our friendship was pretty rare. “Okay. In that case, would you help me look up books and resources about previous monarchs of the Night Realm, and anything that might talk about the magic used by the monarchs? I’m looking for anything that might be a hint—if I’m supposed to do something special to make the realm change, or to supplement the failing wards.”
I paused, then added, “I feel like I’m flying blind. There’s been a few times the Paragon says stuff, and I have no idea what he’s talking about. Like a connection to the realm? What is up with that?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, either,” Skye said. “My mother has talked about it before, but as half fae, I was never required to visit the realm to strengthen myself.”
“Yeah, same here. That’s where I’m thinking I’m missing something vital, and I don’t know because I’m not even aware it’s a thing!”
Skye tapped her lower lip. “I suppose it’s understandable—you weren’t raised as a fae. There must be some things that have been lost in translation.” She nodded decisively. “Very well, I’ll do it. I’ll search out any books containing information on monarchs and their magic. I’m afraid a scatter-shot approach will be best, in this case, which unfortunately means there will be a lot of books and information to sort through.”
I waved her concern off. “I’d rather take the wide approach and go through more books than necessary than miss something important. If I can find anything useful, it’s probably just going to be a glancing reference. Besides, since it’s probably going to be pretty dry reading, I’ll use it to put me to sleep before bedtime,” I joked.
Skye didn’t laugh. Instead, wrinkles spread across her forehead. “You already overwork yourself, Leila. I don’t want this to add to your burden…”
“Don’t worry.” I made a face. “I’m pretty sure my lack of patience is going to keep me from working too hard. I’ll only be able to last a few minutes reading about all the puffed-up monarchs before I get annoyed and have to quit.”
Skye visibly relaxed. “That is certainly true. Very well, then. I’ll begin gathering a stack and put it in your personal study.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Thanks, Skye. I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”
Skye’s smile was sweet and as genuine as a real diamond. “I will always support you, Leila—and I’m happy to help however I can.”
I started watching for the opportunity to act on Skye’s wisdom and my mom’s advice—or, let’s call it what it really was, order—and talk to Lord Linus.
Even after my conversation with Skye, I was dreading the talk and what he’d tell me. But Skye was right. If Mom thought I needed to talk to him, I probably did.
And if he was a total jerk about the whole thing, I could always tell Chase to use him as a practice target for the training sessions he held for the guards.
That was why I didn’t resist too much when Lord Linus insisted on joining Indigo and me the following day when we went to a business meeting with some brownies—including Indigo’s mother.
“You want my help in establishing a brownie-run store in downtown Magiford?” I repeated, confirming the main point I’d garnered from the excited talk of the eight plus brownies who had me surrounded.
Indigo’s mother—their spokesperson—nodded. “We’ve been getting orders for wedding and birthday cakes ever since the fall market. We’d like to establish a legitimate business. But while we believe we have the funds, we don’t know how to go about getting the appropriate human approval.”
I surveyed the entrepreneurial crew. “Okay…I’m not sure if I know much about that either, but I’m sure the Curia Cloisters would be delighted to help you.”
Actually, I wasn’t sure at all.
The Curia Cloisters typically tried to keep a very non-magical front with humans. Most supernatural owned businesses were for supernaturals only—at least things like restaurants typically were.
I was vaguely aware that werewolves tended to be more entrepreneurial, but they typically took over a city within their territory. Chase had told me once his Northern Lakes Pack had made their city a tourist destination.
And, yeah, there were a lot of fae models, and wizards were sometimes hired for help with natural disaster relief and similar things, but none of the stores in downtown Magiford were owned by supernaturals. Probably because the Curia Cloisters had a stranglehold on the kind of image they wanted to project—like the fall market the brownies had mentioned.
But, hey, I was the Queen of the Night Court and the fae representative on the Regional Committee of Magic. I could throw around my political weight a little bit for something that would benefit both supernaturals and humans.
I wasn’t convinced the stark separation between us was really the best plan—but then again as a half fae half human, I naturally straddled the two worlds.
The brownies—ignorant to my plotting—beamed at one another and clapped.
“Oh, thank you, Queen Leila!” one brownie with brown-blond hair squeaked.
“We cannot ever express our gratitude enough!” A male brownie doffed his cap at me.
“It’s a little early for thanks,” I said. “Before we really check in with the Curia Cloisters you’ll want to have some things ready. I know you mentioned you think you have the funds—you’ll want clear records
of that. But you’ll also need a business plan that will describe the kind of store you want to open. I assume you’re aiming for a bakery?”
“Partially, yes,” Indigo’s mom confirmed. “But we’re aware there are already several other bakeries in downtown Magiford. Since we’ll need a commercial grade kitchen for our baking anyway, we thought we could also serve specialized fae teas—none of the other cafes focus on tea, so we’d be hitting a different target market.”
That’s smart—doubling down on the fae aspect of the bakery will make it stand out. And the tea especially makes sense given what Skye told me about it—it means they’ll be popular with fae, too.
“Wow,” I said. “It sounds like you guys already researched everything you need to.”
“Yes, my Sovereign.” Indigo’s mom bowed to me. “We wouldn’t want to waste your time with foolish fantasies.”
“In that case I’ll get in touch with the Curia Cloisters and make an appointment for you.”
“Oh, thank you, Queen Leila!”
“Yes, thank you!”
I was mobbed with another round of thank yous.
Just before it got too overwhelming, Indigo shouted above them, “Why don’t you give Queen Leila some samples of what baked goods you intend to sell?”
“Oh, yes, we should!”
“Absolutely—we ought to!”
“I’ll get the tarts!”
“I’ll fetch the donuts and whip up a chocolate frosting!”
“And I’ll get a pot of tea going!”
“We shall be back shortly, Queen Leila!”
The brownies stormed from the sitting room, sweeping a squawking Indigo off with them.
I exhaled deeply enough to stir a few strands of my black hair, and awkwardly climbed out of the low seated red velvet armchair the brownies had pushed me into when I arrived.
The room they’d brought me to was the kind of storybook fairy parlor you see in dollhouses.
There was a rustic stone fireplace, the walls were made of spotless white plaster, except for the moss that was growing up one wall. The furniture was brownie sized—small and low to the ground—and the little end table positioned near my chair was a slab of a cut tree trunk. A giant rug of a black and white cat covered most of the wooden floor and was worn but clean. A vase of fresh flowers sat on the sill of a circular window, and dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling rafters.
Lord Linus had remained behind with me, which meant it was just the two of us in the cozy living room.
I nodded awkwardly to him, peered out the window at a miniature windmill covered in a light dusting of snow, and then turned to face the fireplace.
I was congratulating myself for the successful distraction.
I hadn’t seen Rigel once since I’d told him that I loved him two days ago. I only knew he was still around because I saw the crack of light from under the door between our rooms.
Isn’t that just fantastic? I freaked him out so badly when I said I loved him that now he isn’t talking to me. That’s got to be a first for fae-dom.
“How did you know?” Lord Linus asked, jarring me from my thoughts.
Confused, I furrowed my eyebrows. “Huh?”
Lord Linus sauntered up to me and gazed up at the painting—a glade in the fae realm, I think—hung over the fireplace. “How did you know they’d need a business plan?”
“Oh.” I shifted uncomfortably. “I majored in communications in college. We covered topics from marketing and PR to stuff with more of a journalism focus. I did a few weeks’ stint in Magiford City Hall for one of the PR courses.”
“I see.” Lord Linus grinned at me. “That’s my daughter—wonderful in unexpected ways!”
I stared at him for a moment, Mom’s advice/instructions weighing on my mind. I glanced back at the living room entrance, but while I could hear pots and pans banging and laughter ambling down the hallway, it didn’t seem like the brownies were very likely to come back any time soon.
“If I’m so wonderful, why didn’t you bother trying to see me when I was a kid?” I asked. “Why did you leave?”
Lord Linus lost his playful expression. “It’s complicated.”
I propped one arm up on my hip. “Try me.”
Lord Linus stared at the painting and was silent.
I started to turn away—both smug and disappointed that I’d been right about him—when he unexpectedly spoke.
“I left because a night mare showed up on the front lawn of our house.”
I froze midstep. “…what?”
“About twenty years ago, when you were a toddler, the night mares were set loose to choose the next Night Court monarch,” Lord Linus said. “One of them came to me.”
I stared, not knowing what to say.
A night mare? Really?
Thankfully, he continued. “A single night mare doesn’t make you a monarch—you need two of them for an official selection to be made. But it does mark you as a candidate, and once you’ve been marked, your future is set in stone. You’ll be dragged into fae politics, no matter what, because the night mares only approach the strong.”
He glanced at me, his purple-blue eyes as dark as night. “I knew that would be a disaster for you and Bethany—your mother. If I was made king it’d spell certain death for both of you, but even if I was only a candidate it would become public knowledge that I had a human wife and a half fae child. Everyone would know you two would be my weak point, and they’d never stop coming for you. So I ran.”
I sat back down in the short, red armchair, my knees hitched up higher than my seat. “But…Mom said you couldn’t run from the night mares.”
“Not when you’ve been bound to the Court like you were,” Lord Linus dryly said. “Or even once two appear and confirm you as the next ruler. But since there was only one, it was easy enough to shake it off. The day after it arrived I boarded a plane to Europe. It wasn’t able to follow me.”
I frowned. “And we couldn’t come with you?”
Lord Linus shook his head. “I needed to give off the impression that neither of you were important to me—or you’d still be in danger.”
I let my head tilt back on my neck and stared up at the dried sunflower that hung directly over me.
Lord Linus was a monarch candidate? I can’t believe it—but he can’t lie. It’s just…I never expected…
The talk I had with Chase about Lord Linus suddenly made more sense. “You aren’t in debt, are you?” I asked.
Silence stretched on for a few tense moments.
“No.”
I sat up in my chair. “Do you even gamble?”
“For show,” Lord Linus said. “It’s an easy way to make others assume I’m daft. If I put on a spectacle I can make them believe what I want them to believe. They’ll never notice when I’ve got a knife to their back.”
It explains how he can be skilled with magic, and why he occasionally seems competent.
“Why didn’t you tell me, or Chase?” I asked.
Lord Linus released a bark of laughter. “You were expecting a loser for a biological father. If I’d swept in as anything else, you would have been even angrier, and never let me near you. I’ve never minded acting the idiot if it meant I could keep you safe. And Chase…” Lord Linus pushed his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “I think he knew straight away I wasn’t the fool I pretended to be. But since my goal is the same as his—to keep you safe—he didn’t much care.”
“But I still don’t get why,” I said. “Why didn’t you take the crown and become king? You would have had the power to keep us safe!”
“Do you really believe that?” Lord Linus’s eyes flashed with ice, and I could see the merciless fae that hid beneath his idiot act. “After everything you’ve lived through? After knowing how King Birch has fought so hard to keep his own consort alive that he’s resorted to hiding the existence of his child? You had to tell us of the kid’s existence when you were preparing your argument to be made the
fae rep—his own Court doesn’t know.”
He was right—Birch was so paranoid about Flora that he tried all of her food before she ate because she’d been poisoned multiple times. I only found out about his kid because Birch talked about it after he drank tea that was charmed to make him spill his guts.
“But that’s the Summer Court. The Night Court…” I trailed off as I remembered the time I’d almost been killed by a spelled cannoli, back when my Court had hated me.
“I chose your safety over my dream of living with you and Bethany and loving you both for the rest of my life,” Lord Linus said. “It’s a choice I’ll never regret.”
That’s why he said he doesn’t regret missing my childhood…
It made sense, but it still felt wrong. It didn’t have to be that way!
“But you could have changed things in the Court,” I said. “Just like I did.”
Lord Linus shifted, pointing his body away from me. “No, Leila, I couldn’t have. Your mother and I fought about it all night before I left—she thought I should have stayed, too. But the truth of it is I’m not as strong as you are. I couldn’t fathom a future where the fae didn’t backstab one another. I didn’t think it was possible to lead the Court in any way besides fear.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. “I could never do what you’ve done.”
“Knowing how good you are at magic? I don’t believe that.”
He shrugged. “Then I took the coward’s way out—the easy path. But to me, it was the only way I could assure you and your mom survived. And that has always been my greatest priority.”
I drummed my fingers on the armchair.
Mom was right, this changed a lot.
I didn’t agree with all of Lord Linus’s decisions—he could have fought for us, maybe he at least could have dropped in every once in a while, so I didn’t think my biological dad was a total loser—but I understood them.
“If I’d known that wretched Court was going to drag you in and make you queen one day I might have done a few things differently,” Lord Linus said. “Mainly I would have gotten you out of America while you were young, and far away from that festering place. The whole point of everything I’d done was to keep you away from the fae. I nearly lost it when I realized you’d been shoved into an even worse situation. And Bethany knew and waited to tell me until you were already bound and living among the fae!”