The Queen's Crown (Court of Midnight and Deception Book 3) Read online

  “You destroyed the games of power the fae play. You’ve changed how the Night Court operates—you’ve even managed to stifle most of the fighting between the Courts.”

  I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. “The only way for me to survive as I wished to in the old Court was to use my power to force others to leave me alone. I didn’t enjoy it, but I was selfish enough to choose my life over others. Now…I do it only as I choose to.”

  A part of me hoped she’d read deeper into my words—that she’d somehow magically pick up on my hidden meanings and realize I’d left in an attempt to protect her.

  Sadly, I didn’t see any outward signs that she’d noticed the significance of my words.

  Of course not. She knows nothing of how I actually feel—she only knows I don’t love her.

  “I haven’t won, though. Not really.” Some of the melancholy returned, darkening her eyes as she rubbed her temples. “If I had, the Night Realm would be safe.” She stared at her hands. “And I can’t do any better than I already have. Because I’m a half fae.”

  “Except you have powerful and intelligent supporters,” I said. “And they have only just begun to fight for you. We’ll find a way.”

  Leila nodded, but I could tell my words hadn’t done much to alleviate her guilt.

  “Sleep,” I said. “In the morning, we can strategize alternative methods.”

  “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. We’ll find another way.” She slid her legs under her covers and burrowed in them.

  I lay on top of the bed stretched out—there was no way I was getting under potentially motion-restricting blankets when I was already sleeping in a foreign room.

  Steve yawned on her bed, and Kevin turned in about twenty circles before thumping down on a fluffy rug. I eyed Whiskers, silently daring him to jump on the bed.

  Whiskers rubbed his head on the side of the bed and purred, then sauntered over to join Steve on her dog bed.

  It took Leila longer than usual to pass out. Typically it was moments, but this time it was minutes—which attested to just how upset she was.

  She lay on her side and had her back to me. I stared at her, not sure what to do.

  Thinking of how she’d hugged me, I slowly extended my arm across the bed, leaning just a little closer so I could carefully drape my hand over her side.

  She was warm, and her breath hitched for a moment when my fingers grazed her side. But her breathing evened out, and within a few moments she was asleep.

  She spent the next hour wiggling her way closer to me—while still unconscious—until she was half underneath me and had tucked all but the top of her head under the blankets.

  How does she not suffocate in there?

  With my arm curled around her well-blanketed mass, it occurred to me that I had missed this. A lot.

  I—who normally disliked speaking with others, much less close body contact like this—found something comforting in having Leila snuggled up next to me. Even the shifts of the gloom and shades were comforting in a way.

  I closed my eyes as I felt for the daggers under my pillow.

  It seems Leila has not only succeeded in changing the Night Court and the region…but me as well.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Leila

  “This was my greatest idea ever for a Court social event thing. Go me.” I fixed my knit cap—purple with stars—and tugged my scarf—also purple with stars, because Indigo controlled my wardrobe—so I’d stop inhaling fuzzies off the dang thing. “It’s the cheapest event I’ve ever thrown, everyone had to get over here themselves, and hopefully after this the nobles will stop complaining about that stupid ski trip!”

  Solis laughed. He didn’t wear a hat or even a scarf, just a white down jacket and gold gloves—maybe being the Day King meant he was warm most of the time?

  Like me, however, he was wearing sunglasses as we watched most of the Night Court and a bunch of Day Court citizens sled together.

  “I think this was a fine idea—and not because of the low cost, but the fun factor,” Solis said. “I’ve never gone sledding before.”

  “That’s practically criminal—you’ve got the perfect hills for it,” I said.

  Solis had learned about my quest to find a sledding hill and had very graciously offered the use of his property which—like the grounds my mansion was on—were massive, but—unlike the mansion grounds—had some enormous hills.

  I’d chosen a hill just off his driveway. All my people parked on the main road and then made the short trek in, waddling in their warm winter jackets and snow pants.

  “Regardless, I’m grateful you agreed to provide sleds and allowed my people to share in the fun if they so desired,” Solis said.

  “Are you kidding? You’re the one who is letting us stomp all over your place for free! Plus, the sleds were the only expense for this trip, and I got them on clearance since we don’t have too many weeks of sledding left, I hope.” I shivered, thinking of Magiford’s persnickety weather. Since Magiford was halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago and was fairly close to Lake Michigan, the snow could stick around until April if it stayed cold enough.

  Solis smiled at Blue Moon as the night mare trod past us. He had two sleds tied to the bareback pad I’d put on the night mares for that reason, and dragged them up the hill for a very grateful gnome couple and a curly haired faun. “I don’t know what ‘on clearance’ means,” Solis said.

  “Of course you don’t,” I groused. “You don’t have to since everything is fine and dandy in the Day Court.”

  “It’s not as fine as you would think,” Solis said. “When Queen Nyte ruled your Court things were rather…calamitous for the Day Court. I’m still dealing with the repercussions.”

  “Nyte was terrible—for everyone.” I tugged Solis a step back so he didn’t get run down by a screaming naiad on a yellow plastic sled.

  We were standing on one of three foot paths our people were supposed to use to go up the hill so they wouldn’t make tracks all over the sledding hill and so we didn’t have people getting rammed down, but the naiad had taken his sled over a snow packed incline one of the trolls had made and flew off course.

  He smacked into a tree with a groan.

  “You okay?” I called to the naiad. “We have potions on hand if you think you hurt something.”

  The naiad waved as he peeled himself off the tree. “I’m okay. I just wish I could steer this better.” He staggered to his feet and yanked his hat off to brush snow out of his dark blue hair.

  “It’s all in the way you lean,” I advised. “And maybe don’t go over any of the jumps at an angle.”

  “Lean, and no angles. Got it. Oh—wait for me, please! Could you carry my sled?” The naiad hustled—banging himself in the shins with his sled—to catch up with a sun stallion Solis had recruited for sled hauling.

  In the beginning most of our people had turned up their noses at the idea of needing a night mare or sun stallion to haul their sled for them, but after trekking up the hill for the sixth time, a bunch of them had lost steam and sent the sled up the hill ahead of them for the fae waiting in line for their turn.

  At the top of the hill Skye was demonstrating for a number of fae how to make snow angels and snowmen—she’d told me that building a snowman and lying in the snow to make snow angels was one of the few very hazy memories she had with both of her parents, and was determined to pass the joy on to other fae.

  “Next year we could invite the other Courts, maybe,” Solis suggested.

  “We’d have to use more hills, but that’d be fun.” I laughed. “I want to be the one to give Fell his first push down the hill. That’ll be a precious moment we need to save forever. I bet I could get Rigel to film it on his phone.”

  “Yes, though we’ll need to buy more sleds,” Solis said.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to ask Dusk and Dawn and Azure to find a place to store the sleds between the stable and garage so we can bust them out next year for a
n even cheaper Court outing!” I clapped my hands in anticipation. “Plus, by then my citizens’ weird competitive streak will have kicked in, and I’m willing to bet they’ll have bought their own sleds. I’m sure some of my nobles will invest in Norwegian toboggans or Swiss bobsleds or something equally ridiculous.”

  I peered down the hill—we were standing at about the halfway point—and smiled.

  At the bottom, my pack of shades had set up camp and were pulling sleds with some tiny, giggling fae children in them who were too small to do the hill.

  A few pixies rode on shades’ backs, and the kids’ parents—from a pair of beaming brownies to a troll couple whose baby was less than a year old, which was probably the only reason why Kevin could pull the baby around—were taking pictures with their cellphones or running alongside the sleds, wiping out in the snow every once in a while, making their kids laugh when they got faces full of snow.

  Bagel—who had insisted on coming with—was trotting from group to group, receiving enough pats and head rubs to make the little donkey deliriously happy.

  The bright laughter and the strong sunlight made the air feel warm, even though my gloved fingers were starting to get cold since Solis and I weren’t moving around. The heat packs I’d put in my boots were still making my feet toasty warm though—farm girl knowledge for the win!

  “I envy the relationship you have with your Court,” Solis said abruptly.

  I flicked my sunglasses off to peer at him, concerned for his mental wellbeing. “What are you talking about? You and your Court get along perfectly.”

  Solis shook his head. “They respect me, and I am liked, but it’s a different relationship from the one you have with your people. Your Court is different from all the others in our region.”

  “Because I’m cheap?”

  “Because you offered your people a different way, and they chose to follow you,” Solis said. “They don’t agree with everything you say and do, but they will listen, and they know your heart. That’s a very rare thing for a fae—to truly know who someone is. It’s an incredible gift you’ve given them, and they’re aware of it and respond to it.”

  I awkwardly slapped my hands on my thighs—I was wearing a pair of black snow pants that were so warm I got sweaty whenever I waddled up the hill. “I did it because I didn’t know any other way. It’s not because I’m smart or I thought I could redeem the Night Court. I just wanted to stop all the stupid fighting.”

  “Exactly. You freed them.” Solis smiled, and even though his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, I could still feel the friendly warmth his grins always produced. “I was delighted when you announced you wanted to be the fae representative on the Regional Committee of Magic.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then you might be able to free us all.”

  I studied the older fae. I knew he wasn’t lying—or he’d never be able to say that—but I was honored that Solis, a king in charge of a prosperous Court, valued what I’d done, and could see how useless all the power plays were, and how harmful the infighting really was.

  “Thanks, Solis. It means a lot to me,” I finally said. “I’m really grateful for your friendship.”

  Solis slightly bowed his head. “As I am incredibly grateful for yours.”

  I watched Azure and Indigo go flying past us on a sled. Indigo was screaming in a different language—I’m pretty certain it was either Elvish or Klingon—and Azure was laughing.

  My chauffeur—I was pretty sure it had to be Azure, Indigo wouldn’t think of this—had packed snow into the sled to make it heavier and fly even faster down the steep hill.

  Last year I never would have pegged Azure as the daredevil type. The more you know, I suppose.

  I idly chewed on my lip and glanced up at Solis.

  Do I ask him? No one else has given me a straight answer…

  Since Rigel had slept in my room, I’d gotten a lot more curious about fae wings.

  I’d never cared much about them before—as a half I didn’t have them, as that stupid book had pointedly said. And fae didn’t actually fly with them or anything—pixies being the obvious exception. I only knew wings were something fae showed off to people they cared about.

  But since we got married Rigel has made several very pointed comments about wings…I must be missing something about them.

  I’d tried asking Linus about wings, once, but he’d been uselessly vague with his answer, and Skye didn’t know much about wings, either. The books I’d perused while researching monarchs and their magic didn’t help, either.

  I’m running out of options, and I have a hunch I need to figure this out.

  “Hey, Solis…I have a question. If it’s too, er, personal you don’t have to answer,” I said.

  Solis turned to me and took off his sunglasses. “Yes?”

  I took a deep breath and hoped for the best. “What do wings mean to fae?”

  He blinked. “I’m not sure I understand your question?”

  “Wings—not like the ones pixies or other common fae have, but the ones fae nobles have but keep secret. I know they’re an expression of power, but what do they mean?”

  Solis tilted his head. “Power and abilities?”

  Frustrated, I pawed at the snow, digging my boots in. “Okay, let me try again. Why would it matter if you’re willing or not willing to show your wings to someone? I thought they were just special and you only show them to people close to you.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Solis nodded slowly and gave me his best “dad face” to show he understood what I was asking. “Wings are…special to a noble fae because it’s the innermost expression of who they are. Fae can change their appearance with a glamour, and often use clothes as a way to pick up and take off various manners and emotional masks. None of that exists with wings. When you see a fae’s wings, you see who they really are.”

  “And that’s not something fae do,” I said, slowly.

  “No. As a culture, fae are conditioned to hide everything about their inner selves that they can—from manners to words we are taught to present the world with a different façade from what truly lurks beneath,” Solis said.

  I frowned and gazed up at the cloudless sky. “But…how much can wings reveal about who you are?”

  “Quite a lot,” Solis said. “Their size and shape can indicate power—a dangerous thing to reveal to your enemies. And the type and color combination might reveal certain things about you that could be abused by those who seek to harm you. Skin wings similar to those of a bat may reveal a darker side, whereas membrane wings—like those of a butterfly—would exhibit a softness that could be exploited.”

  “I see,” I said. In reality I didn’t.

  Pretty sure fae aren’t quite as perfect at hiding their true selves as they all think, and they’re just paranoid.

  “You don’t actually get it, do you?” Solis guessed.

  “Not really,” I admitted. “I figured out pretty fast after meeting them that Consort Flora is a sweetie and King Fell deserves to be punched.” I paused, then corrected myself. “Okay, I figured it out after meeting Flora a few times, but I pretty much knew since the first time I heard him speak that King Fell needs to get the snot beat out of him.”

  I had to wait a minute while Solis laughed.

  When he was finished, he grinned down at me. “Yes, that is very true. There is some semblance of a fae’s true temperament that will leak through. But I don’t think you’re accounting for the effect you have had on others. You’ve always been upfront about who you are, and that has changed the way fae interact with you. True honesty is a rare thing among our people. Before you, it was a danger no one could risk.”

  “I get why—because of the fights and games of power and all that. But I still don’t understand what wings could possibly reveal about you that would be dangerous. Particularly for—”

  I cut myself off, but I was too late. It must have been blindingly obvious who I was talking about.

  �
��Particularly for Rigel?” Solis guessed. “You may be right. I’ve witnessed Rigel’s abilities. There is no possibility that he is concerned the size of his wings will reveal a lack of power; the whole world knows he has it in spades. But there may be something about himself that he doesn’t want you to know.”

  I stared at the black buttons on Solis’s jacket, because if I looked at his kind eyes I was going to lose it.

  I trust Rigel. I love him. But he doesn’t even feel comfortable enough to let me see…

  “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because he doesn’t want to lose you.”

  That got me to look up at him. “Huh?”

  Solis’s smile was gentle and a little bittersweet. “Fae are capable of great darkness, Leila. But to many, you give us hope. And while we treasure honesty, hope is something that has been out of our grasp for decades—if not centuries. We wouldn’t risk losing you and the hope you represent by disappointing you.”

  I can’t mean that much to Rigel. Yes, he’s protected me, and we’ve laughed together, and I know even if he doesn’t love me we have a good friendship. But…that can’t be why he refuses to show me his wings.

  “But, as I said, that’s just a guess,” Solis said, his voice lighthearted again. “I cannot speak for Rigel, just myself. But I imagine he is not withholding his wings out of a distrust or apathy, but more desperation, even if I cannot say a desperation for what.”

  “I’m overjoyed you think my consort cares for me,” I said.

  “Of that, I am certain,” Solis said. “He’d kill until the ground ran with blood if he could figure out how to fight against those who attack you.”

  I shivered. “That’s not exactly a bright thought, Solis.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be: it was meant to be truthful,” Solis said. “That you don’t use him as a weapon when he is more than willing says much about you.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re overestimating me.” I sighed and put my sunglasses back on as I thought of the Night Realm.

  I didn’t really want to keep talking about this to Mr. My Court is The Best Day King, especially because I hadn’t yet told any of the other monarchs about the half fae thing, and I wasn’t going to until we found whoever was attacking me. But I didn’t know how to change the topic.