by K. M. Shea
“Night Queen.”
We jumped—well, I jumped, Rigel just glanced back because he was probably already aware she was back there—and turned to see Rime.
“Rime?” I squinted in the dazzling afternoon sunlight as the Winter Queen, accompanied by one of her giant winter wolves—an enormous canine that was as big as a small horse—strode in our direction. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?” I was so surprised by her presence I almost tapped the magic filtering through my charm bracelet. Once she got close enough, I could see her expression was relaxed—for her, anyway, which meant she just looked not irritated.
“No. I merely wanted to speak to you for a moment.” She got close enough that the cool aura that followed her around pierced the muggy heat of the early afternoon.
It was only May. We weren’t experiencing real summer heat yet, but I couldn’t stand humidity—it made me feel like a fish in a jacuzzi tub.
“King Rigel.” Rime nodded to Rigel, then turned her icy gaze on me. “I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for the fae of our region.”
I’d been enjoying her coolness and watching her wolf—it was gorgeous with glacier blue eyes and gray and white swirled fur—but her words brought me back. “Huh? What did I do?”
“You saved Solis when none of us even knew he needed help. You put a stop to Fell’s tirades, and Birch has relaxed enough to introduce Amaranth to his Court.”
I uncomfortably rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, well…I didn’t do that much specifically.”
Rime shook her head. “No, you insisted on walking with us. When I was made fae representative—when I was officially recognized as the most powerful ruler in the Midwest—I thought it was a kindness to stay uninvolved. I didn’t want to risk my own Court, but I used the excuse that if I did not exert my will, surely the other Courts would be happier. I should have known better given my own experience with my siblings and our Courts.”
Her wolf whined and nosed her shoulder. Rime smiled at her and rubbed the wolf’s long nose. “When the night mares chose you, they did a good thing—not just for the Night Court, but for all of us. Not because of your power or magic, but because you’ve gotten us to talk and work together. That is where our new strength lies, and it’s because you were brave enough to reach out.”
I shifted uncomfortably—I never enjoyed recognition like this. It felt like I didn’t deserve it. I wasn’t some brave hero that had come to save the day. I was a jaded coffee drinker who just wanted the fae to be nicer. I didn’t mean to change the world, I just wanted them to be kind.
Rigel squeezed my hand, giving me a little nudge of courage.
“Thanks, Rime. It means a lot coming from you,” I said. “I’m looking forward to everything we’ll do together.”
Rime gave me a jerky nod, then patted her wolf on the shoulder. “I agree. Which is why I wanted to give you Winter’s blessing.”
I blinked. “Sorry…what?”
“You have the approval from all the Courts, except mine,” Rime said. “In recognition of all you’ve done, I’d like to give it to you now.”
I furrowed my brow. “Sorry, when did Fell ever approve of me? Because Rigel had to threaten him with a dagger to the neck last week when he was getting worked up, saying we needed to get the Seelie and Unseelie Courts to pay a tithe to us. I was hoping Rigel would go for Fell’s nose. Maybe irreversibly break it or something.” I glanced up at Rigel, who shrugged.
“I’m saving his nose for a special occasion,” he said.
“Like what?” I asked.
“The next time he tries flirting with you.”
“He doesn’t flirt with me,” I scoffed.
“He does, he’s just very bad at it,” Rigel said. “Though he has slowed his efforts since I’ve been crowned Night King.”
Before I could ponder that, Rime got the conversation back on track. “Fell’s griffins gave approval,” she said. “Just as Verdant’s stag gave the approval of the Spring Court when you saved it from the hunt, and Birch’s hawks approved after you rescued Amaranth.” She stroked her wolf’s shoulder. “Solis said your sun stallion, Fax, gave approval on behalf of the Day Court, which means only the Winter Court remains.”
She hesitated, then looked at me, holding my gaze with such intensity I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. “Typically approval is given as a thanks, or as part of something owed, considering it elevates the other Court above your own.”
I tensed. “Rime, maybe you shouldn’t, then. You’re way more powerful than me and—”
“No.” Rime shook her head. “I don’t want to give you approval because of power. Frankly, you’re right. I have a better command of magic and greater abilities than you do.”
Together the Winter Queen and her wolf stared me down, and I felt about an inch tall. “Honor as a fae used to be defined by power. But you’ve changed it. For us fae in the Midwest, we respect and follow you because of who you are and what you want to do. We give you power over us because we know you will not harm us, and instead you will do everything you can to help us and save fae from ourselves.”
Rime glanced at her wolf, who took a step closer to me. Her toenails clicked on the hot blacktop, and when she leaned in and pressed her wet nose to my temple, her breath was icy cold.
Magic sliced through me, filling my lungs with freezing air as I felt ice on my skin and heard the crunch of snow in the air. Sensations flashed through—gliding across the ice on a frozen pond, the muted silence of snow falling late at night, the unyielding green of evergreens and pine trees in a world covered in snow, and the warmth of sitting in front of a crackling fire.
It seeped away like frost melting under a warm sun, and when I could finally see again, Rime had climbed onto her wolf and was riding it like a horse.
“Rime?” I licked my lips, and I wanted to put everything I was feeling into words—the relief that she was standing with me, how happy I was that she saw what I was doing and agreed with it—but I…couldn’t.
It was like I was feeling too much.
“Thank you,” I finally settled on. “For everything.”
Rime gave me a business-like nod, that made me feel better. “Good afternoon, Queen Leila, King Rigel.” Her wolf started to turn around, then paused when Rime set her hand on its flank. “Oh, and if you should ever need help of any sort, call me. All the fury of winter will rise to aid you.” She smirked, and snowflakes swirled around her, and the wind howled.
It occurred to me about then that fae nobles—monarchs included—technically don’t have any kind of power over the elements. It was one of the things that balanced our magic—wizards could create the elements, naiads and dryads could control water and plants, but nobles could do none of that.
Except for Rime. She’s made ice and snow before, and I never thought twice about it…Just how strong is she?!
Rime’s wolf padded off, taking her around the corner of the Curia Cloisters’ parking lot.
I assumed she was going to have her wolf open a gate and go into the Winter Realm, but based on the screeching tires I heard, it seemed like she and her wolf opted to pad off through Magiford instead.
I brushed a little snow off me and shook my head. “I always knew she was more powerful than me, but I don’t think I ever realized just how crazy strong she is.”
Rigel shrugged. “She is the oldest monarch in the Midwest, and she and her siblings have ruled the Winter Courts for a very long time.”
“I can tell,” I said. “Ready to go home?”
Rigel used his key fob to unlock his car, which chirped at us. “Of course—far be it from me to keep you from your precious treats.”
“Have I told you lately that I love how you understand me?”
“Yes. Last night when I let you use my wings as a blanket, and the day before when I brought you a latte.”
“That’s still not recent enough.” I leaned against his car and grinned up at him. “I love you, husband.”
Rigel stared at me for several long moments, his midnight eyes unreadable. “Unless you want pictures of us making out showing up in the next edition of the Curia Cloisters’ newsletter, you better get in the car.”
“They wouldn’t print something like that,” I said—though I got in the car.
Rigel waited until he also got in the car before he answered. “You said no one would take photos of us kissing when we were waiting in the drive through in Queen’s Court Café and yet somehow Rhonda got a giant canvas print of it.”
“I got her to take it down!”
“I got her to take it down. You were so red with embarrassment you wouldn’t set foot in the building.” Rigel turned on his car, which purred like a happy gloom. “Which is rather hypocritical considering how you fawn over me in public.”
“It’s one thing for me to show you off,” I said. “It’s another to have a giant portrait of us on a café wall!”
“I won’t pretend to understand this part of you. The point is I refuse to make out with you in public until you get over your public embarrassment.”
“Ugh, deal.”
It was a short car ride home—though it took me a while to get to my library as I had to wade through all my pets that were eager to see me.
I was almost positive the night mares could sense me magically somehow. Whenever I got home from errands one of them always came popping out of the Night Realm with the shades and glooms.
I picked my way up to the library so I could drop off all my important papers.
I still spent most of my time in the mansion here in the human world, and used my Night Palace as a sort of mental vacation/designated party place. This was partially because as the fae rep I needed to be connected to the human realm, but mostly because while I could get perfect cellphone reception in the Night Realm I weirdly couldn’t get any internet, even with a hot spot.
I kicked off my shoes once I got inside the library and dropped into my couch, dumping my bag by the coffee table.
Rigel sat down next to me, angled so he leaned his back into the couch armrest and faced the door.
I peeled myself off the couch and peered hopefully up at him. “Will you…?”
Rigel blinked his midnight eyes at me, and the magic that covered his wings unraveled. From his position he was able to curl one of his magnificent wings around his shoulder and half drape it over me.
I splayed myself over his chest and leaned into his muscled torso. Even if it was summer and starting to get hot, being covered by the downy warmth of Rigel’s wings was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I could feel the wild, almost fiery feeling of Rigel’s power—which masked the silvery softness—fizzle across his feathers.
It didn’t hurt me—it felt a little like leaning into one of my night mares, actually. Deadly power, controlled by love.
I yawned, fast relaxing under the warm weight of Rigel’s wings. “I kind of wish I had wings—real ones. Not the borrowed ones I get when the Court is powering me up.”
Rigel lightly traced his hand up and down my spine. “If you had wings, you’d have an unfair amount of power.” His hand stilled on my back. “Besides, I don’t need wings to show me your soul. I already know it.”
Lying on him like this with his wings covering me made me feel like the safest person in the world—and safety was a luxury I hadn’t had much of in the last year. But I felt treasured and guarded—he’d make sure I could let down my walls and just be.
But he’d intrigued me. I pushed myself off his chest—just enough so I could peer up at him. “That isn’t actually why I was thinking I wanted wings. But what do you mean by that?”
“You’ve never hidden who you are,” Rigel said.
“But I’ve lied,” I pointed out.
“You did,” Rigel agreed. “You’re one of the only fae capable of lying. With that great power, you chose…to horrify the other monarchs with stories about your love life.”
I grimaced. “Didn’t that one come back to bite me?”
“You deserved it,” Rigel said.
I squawked in indignation. “What?”
“If you were that attracted to me, you should have just told me from the start,” Rigel said.
I sputtered. “But you—I—that’s easy for you to say now!”
Rigel released one of his rare laughs—a wild sound I’d come to love—especially when I could feel it in his chest with my hands splayed across him like this.
“We weren’t a love match, but—as you would say—it’s fine. Because we became one,” Rigel said.
He kissed me, and I seriously thought for a minute my heart was just going to give up and die, it was that heavenly.
I was warm, safe, and Rigel’s lips were like fire on mine—almost invasive with their heat, lethal, but controlled.
It was a perfect afternoon.
When someone knocked on the door, I scowled. Did I forget an appointment? I don’t think so—I thought I was free for another hour. “Yes?” I shouted.
“I have a snack for you,” Indigo called through the door.
I practically jumped off Rigel as he tucked his wings away. “That’s right! The bakery goodies! Come on in, Indigo!”
When the door swung open Indigo came in, bearing a tea tray. Kevin, Steve, Whiskers, and Muffin almost bowled her over to get inside, too. They happily bounded up to Rigel and me for pets and chin scratches.
“Thanks, Indigo.” I had to swallow twice I was salivating so much when I saw the sugar cookies shaped like mermaid tails with a thick cover of frosting. There were also slices of lemon pie, beautiful cups of fruit parfaits, deviled eggs, and layered slices of mozzarella cheese and tomato covered with fresh basil.
Since Manith and Angstra had been caught, I’d cautiously started eating food that Indigo didn’t make—though she still presided over the kitchens. But I’d come to appreciate my personal chef, even if he tried to get me—a farm girl—to eat what I would have considered stuff for rich people. (Because, let me tell you, I never ate slices of mozzarella and tomato before now!)
Indigo poured two cups of tea—even after all this time my people were still trying to get me to drink tea—and set one cup in front of Rigel and the other in front of me.
“Today’s tea is masala chai—a black tea steeped in milk and water, spiced with cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and ginger,” Indigo announced.
I nudged the drink aside, until its tantalizing scent reached me. It smelled amazing. The spices called my name like a dessert, and I faintly recognized the scent.
“Have you served this one before?” I asked.
“Yes,” Indigo confirmed. “It’s a very popular method of tea preparation among the fae.”
I nibbled on a cookie and considered the tea.
It smells great…but I’m not a tea drinker. It’s coffee all the way until the day I die!
I glanced at the tea sets that adorned the walls of my library.
Except…tea is important to fae. They treasure it. As a queen, is it really that important that I hold the line of coffee?
I could get coffee whenever I wanted—the night mares would happily spirit me away to Queen’s Court Café whenever I thought my budget would allow it. I wasn’t really going through withdrawal, it was just sheer stubbornness. That, and I didn’t like tea.
But I’ve never had tea made by the fae.
I scowled at the delicate teacup, wondering how one drink could come to represent so much.
I’ve made my Court change a lot, and I’ve compromised on very little. This is one small way I can show my support for them, and it won’t cost me anything. I need to do this—for them.
I picked up my delicate teacup and saucer just as Skye and Linus joined us.
“Queen Leila.” Skye busted out her tablet as she strode across the room. “Next week do you think—” She paused when she saw me with my teacup in hand, and her mouth actually dropped when I took my first sip.
I’m a big enough perso
n to admit that it was fantastic. All those spices with the milk and black tea? Amazing!
“Wow.” I sat back on the couch, leaning into Rigel as he draped an arm over my shoulders. “This is really good.” I studied my teacup with new appreciation.
“How surprising,” Rigel said. “Something every fae in this mansion enjoys tastes good.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hey now, you can’t act that superior. I know you love coffee, too. But this…” I paused and took another sip. “This is delicious.”
It actually made me feel a little bad for not trying anything sooner. I mean, I had tried tea in the past. I knew there were flavors I wasn’t into, but still!
“Just like your mom.” Linus shook his head. “Bethany emphatically chose coffee over tea while we were married.” He sighed dramatically, then dropped the act long enough to give me a serious reply. “But I’m proud of you for trying, daughter. Thank you.”
I kind of think he knew what I was doing, because he glanced at some of the many tea sets in my library, looked back to me, and gave me a small but deep smile that made a tiny part of me glow.
“I feel like we should take a picture,” Indigo said. “For a royal scrapbook or something.”
Skye glanced at her watch. “That could be arranged.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warned.
Skye tapped her finger against her tablet. “Very well, then.” She peered at me from over the protective case, and her eyes glowed with warmth. “But please also allow me to express my joy that you are embracing this aspect of fae life, my Sovereign.”
“Embracing is a bit of a stretch,” I said.
“Fair enough,” Linus said.
Indigo, unable to hold it in any longer, pulled on the hem of her t-shirt—today’s was a pink shirt with gold elvish writing—not from real elves, but JRR Tolkien’s made up language. “Do you know what today is?” she asked.
I froze with my teacup half raised to my lips.
Oh, no. Is today some stupid ceremony I didn’t hear about? If it requires a costume I’m going to play hooky.