more power because I’m queen,” I said slowly. “Even though I don’t feel like there’s a difference in my magic level?”
Lord Linus frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Everything feels the same way it always has,” I said. “I don’t feel new gusts of power or resonating or whatever.”
“My understanding is limited, but there ought to be a significant difference in using your royal artifact than a regular artifact.” Lord Linus rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, his face—the handsome, male version of my own—lined with concern.
He acts like a clown, but then I see him like this…
“No,” I said. “There’s no difference. Maybe there’s something wrong with me?”
Lord Linus frowned. “Why would you believe that?”
“Because my prism has been slow to react,” I said. “Sometimes it feels like I’m dragging it through my prism instead of channeling it.”
“That sounds like a problem with your artifact. It can happen if an artifact is damaged—which would also affect the power level. May I?”
I finished the healing spell and put the cork stopper in the bottle’s opening. My magic made the potion glow for a few moments, until the magic dissolved. Finished with my work, I handed my prism over.
Lord Linus held the gem up to the glowing orbs of light he’d erected around us so I could see what I was doing with the potions. “The base looks chipped. Did something happen to it?”
“It was like that when I picked it.”
“I see. We’ll have to talk to Skye about getting you some supplementary artifacts.”
“Is that allowed? I thought this was my royal artifact, and I’m only allowed to use it.”
Lord Linus scoffed. “Nonsense. Can you see any fae king or queen willing to limit themselves to a single artifact in their obsessive struggle for power? Hardly! Traditionally the royal artifact is your main weapon, and strongest. But I’d wondered before if we’d have to get you something different. None of those artifacts were built with half fae in mind.”
I felt like I needed to take some of Skye’s antacids as I listened to him.
Not because he was wrong, but because he just sounded intelligent!
Considering he acts like he has the sense of a chicken, this is shockingly coherent of him.
I frowned as I looked back and forth between the two finished potions. Even though I’d used the same ingredients—potions from the same batch, even—my magic had turned the first potion a deep wine-red color—very fitting for its raspberry flavor. My second potion, however, had turned the bright red of a crisp apple.
I held the two potions up to Lord Linus. “How is this possible?”
He only glanced at the potions. “Potion making is an art—there will be some inconsistencies.”
I set the potions down and worriedly rubbed my forehead. “It’s fine,” I muttered.
“At least they’re both red,” he said. “That’s the shade this spell should be. It means they’re both still edible.”
“I’m never going to be a good potion brewer,” I said. “I don’t have the time for it.”
“Do I need to remind you that you’re the Night Queen? You’re not in the market for a second career.”
“No—it’s just…I thought I should improve my magic because I’m queen, but I’m rethinking that strategy.”
“Leila, you’re top notch at using your natural magic, and you’ve gotten impressively good at wards.” Lord Linus stood and made the motion as if to set his hand on my shoulder, then yanked it back at the last second. “You don’t have to be good at everything. Just use the magic you like to support your reign.”
Can I really do that? My rapport with the night mares, glooms, and shades kind of won over my Court if you want to get technical. And I’m happy about my wards—I desperately need to keep us safe from the toxic areas outside the barrier.
I mashed my lips together.
Lord Linus held the prism up. “Why don’t we go take a spin through the castle? There are a few secondary artifacts in some of the rooms that are still preserved. We can try snatching some for you. Come on!”
He grabbed one of the balls of light—cradling it in his bare hand—then trundled across the patio, and hopped through a broken door.
I followed at a slower pace. “I can’t say I’m surprised you’d support stealing.”
“It’s not stealing if you’re taking something that’s yours—and everything in the castle is yours!” Lord Linus looked back at me long enough to wink before he picked his way across the half-destroyed ballroom that looked out over the patio.
I shook