Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,118
residence in the stables with the night mares—then put a fresh water bowl in front of her, dodging when she tried to lick me her thanks.
“Thanks, but no thanks, Barbra,” I said.
Lord Linus dumped out another water bowl and refilled it at the tap before joining me, setting the water down in front of Larry, who happily wagged his tail. “I’m pleased with your progress in magic lessons—there’s been a great deal of improvement since you are finally using your full artifact.”
“Yeah, I’m hopeful it will make a big difference the next time I have to strengthen the barrier,” I said. “Can we practice that next week?” I glanced at the fae lord.
“Most assuredly,” Lord Linus said. “We can even go to the barrier and have you practice directly with it. It won’t do anything to shore up the defenses, but familiarizing yourself with the steps should help build confidence.”
I weakly smiled as I put two fresh bowls of water down for the glooms—who were still licking out their dishes from breakfast. “Yeah. I guess I need all the help I can get.”
“Hey, Leila.”
I’d been watching Fluffy try to steal Muffin’s bowl, but I looked up when Lord Linus said my name.
“Your royal artifact is the Original King’s staff,” he said. “You are undoubtedly the most powerful monarch the Night Court has had in a long time. But you’ve only been queen for half a year. Give yourself a break—you won’t be able to fix everything immediately,” he said.
I relaxed, and my smile grew stronger. “Thanks. You’re right.”
Somehow—between all the lessons and socials, and yeah, possibly Chase’s investigation into him—I’d come to begrudgingly like Lord Linus. We had a weird relationship—it certainly wasn’t father/daughter—but it worked, and I was thankful that he’d become my fae advisor.
Lord Linus winked. “Of course I’m right! You’re my darling daughter, the light in this cold, dark world, the brightest and most beautiful—all thanks to your fantastic genetics, I might humbly say.”
I laughed this time instead of rolling my eyes like I would have as I headed to the stable door.
I meant to grab a brush—I’d sent one of Chase’s guys out to a local pet store, and they picked up this special brush that was supposed to stimulate hair growth in pets—but I paused at the open door and looked out over the lawn.
Since Lord Linus and I kept to our early morning lessons, the lawn was still frosted over since the sun wasn’t high enough to melt it.
The morning air was especially chilly, and almost all the trees had lost their leaves, leaving a thick carpet that the gardeners had promptly raked up.
“Yeah,” I absently said. “I bet you regret missing my childhood.”
“No. Not at all.”
Surprised, I spun around. “What?”
Lord Linus was staring back at me, and for the first time he really looked like a fae. His expression was blank, almost cold in the lack of emotion—which looked alien on his normally smiling face.
He’d always had the appearance and charisma of a fae, but now, stripped down, I could see that same ugly ruthlessness, the same selfishness that plagued most fae, had been hidden deep within him as well.
“I don’t regret missing your childhood,” he factually said.
“But you’re always going on about how you missed out seeing me grow up,” I said, my stomach souring.
He blinked. “I wouldn’t change a thing, even if I had a chance.”
I didn’t know what to say—he’d caught me off guard because his words hurt. It felt like he’d stabbed me in the gut, and I didn’t know what to say.
He’d taken my side when others hadn’t, he had never tried to curb me, he’d even been helping me with magic.
I thought that meant something.
Obviously, I thought wrong.
So…I ran.
It was either that or burst into tears in front of him, and that wasn’t an option—especially after what he’d just said.
I knew I was right to hate him.
I sprinted across the lawn, running for the mansion.
I passed a perplexed Eventide, and Indigo—who was carrying a breakfast tray for me.
I would have stopped to talk to Indigo, but something pushed me on. I thundered up a set of stairs, dodged a maid, and skidded to a stop in front of Rigel’s room.
“Rigel?” I opened the door—my heart rising.
Maybe he’s finally back?
I stepped inside, and my hopes collapsed.
Nope. The room looks the same as it did when I woke up yesterday morning.
I closed the door behind me and sagged against it as I stupidly looked again.