Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,48

my favorite reaction. She’d been about to bite a tiny roasted potato, but because of my announcement she missed her mouth and smeared butter across her cheek.

Indigo coughed into her elbow to cover what sounded suspiciously like a snicker. “Well played—that’ll give the fuss budgets a heart attack,” she whispered.

When I glanced back at Skye I thought for sure she’d be guzzling antacid, but the corners of her lips were folded in a very distinct smirk as she gazed at the monarchs.

I’m not the only one bothered by their insufferable quest for power.

Pleased with the chaos I’d caused, I stood up and brushed my toga off. “Let’s go, Rigel. The sculptor will arrive at the mansion before us, and it took me forever to find an artist worthy of you. It’s time to go!”

Rigel was already standing, and he held out his arm for me.

“I don’t believe it,” King Fell said in a “whisper” that was clearly loud enough for us to hear. “I’ll never believe the Wraith is in love!”

I placed my hand on Rigel’s forearm, and was surprised when he picked up my hand and—meeting my eyes—kissed my fingers.

A glimmer of humor brightened up the darkness of his eyes. They weren’t black, but more of a playful obsidian.

I was momentarily speechless—and I wasn’t the only one based on all the choking noises emitting from the table behind me.

When Rigel turned to walk away, I had to take a peek behind us. It was too tempting—and all too vindicating.

King Birch had actually dropped his glass chalice, which shattered on his plate and marinated his food in red wine and flecked his consort with droplets.

Queen Verdant was wildly coughing—she’d apparently inhaled something during Rigel’s display, and King Fell had pushed his chair over in his shock and was frozen in a half-rising, half-sitting position as he stared.

Even Queen Rime was staring at us, delicately pressing her hand over her heart.

I smirked as I waggled my fingers at them. “Bye everyone—enjoy the banquet!” I might have cackled a little as I hopped a few steps to catch up with my consort.

Skye and Indigo were ahead of us—carrying on like champs, of course. Looking at them, you’d never guess they were just as shocked as the monarchs—perhaps even more because they knew the truth.

“That was a lot of fun. Thanks, Rigel.” It was hard not to skip in my glee. “If I were a less scrupulous person, I’d ask for a repeat performance to see if we can get Fell to choke!”

Rigel glanced down at me. “It might be worth a shot.”

“A fellow Fell hater, huh? Stick with me—he doesn’t know it, but I’m going to be cheering a lot more when he has to hand off his power to Rime, haha!”

“A royal portrait?” I repeated.

“Yes. Every monarch has one—they hang in the portrait gallery,” Skye said.

“We have a portrait gallery?”

“Yep. It used to be in the castle, but when the hall’s glass ceiling collapsed Queen Nyte had them moved here.” Indigo marched up to my chair and gave me a plateful of assorted donut holes.

“What’s this?” I stared at the plate and tried not to drool.

“Donuts. Have some—though I’ll warn you they might not be top of the line. This is my first attempt,” Indigo said.

I licked my lips as I peered over my donuts. Some were chocolate, others were covered in a glaze, and a handful of them were rolled in cinnamon sugar. “What inspired you to try?”

“You seemed to really want some when we were at the ceremony last week,” Indigo said.

I ripped my gaze from the amazing desserts. “And you made some—just for me?”

Indigo coughed and looked away. “Yeah.”

“Aww! Thank you, Indigo!” I squealed and threw my arms around the brownie, hugging her tight.

“I get it, I get it, you’re welcome.” She squirmed in my grasp, but when she paused, she patted my back.

“You’re the best.” I grinned at her as I let go. “What’s this one?” I pointed to a donut at random.

Indigo made a point of brushing herself off and straightening her sweater. “A chocolate yeast donut with raspberry sauce and a line of chocolate frosting going down the center. I call it the eye of Sauron.”

I laughed—most of the food she made me somehow referenced superheroes, books, or movies—but then I took a bite of my donut and lost the ability to sit up right—it was still warm, and the outside had just a slightly crisp texture while the chocolate matched with the raspberry made