Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,50

going to lie. With so many portraits that look ridiculously perfect, they all start to look alike after a while,” I said.

Indigo snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Your portrait may include Consort Rigel, if you wish. But having a couple’s portrait is not required—or even common.” She indicated to the wall of paintings. Only about half of them were of couples. Lots of them were of a single monarch—even though I knew from personal experience that they had to be married.

And each and every one of them—including the original king everyone was obsessed with, man I’d like to give him a piece of my mind if he was still around—looked icy and other worldly.

No wonder so many members of my Court are formal with me. When you have such beautiful but cold leaders like this, there’s going to be a clear line of distinction between the Court and its monarch.

“Do these get shown to the other Courts?” I asked.

Skye tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Are these portraits used for press releases or anything like that? Maybe for official ceremonies or something?” I asked.

“No, we take annual photographs—you had to sit for yours with Rigel the day after your wedding, remember?” Skye prodded.

“What you’re saying is no one besides my Court and maybe a few curious visitors will see the portrait?” I asked.

Indigo and Skye exchanged looks.

“Yes,” Skye slowly said.

“But this portrait will be how your Court remembers you once you’re gone,” Indigo said.

I ate a donut hole to cover my smirk. “Oh—I understand that perfectly. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

“And as I’m leaning theatrically into Solstice and Eclipse like this, Rigel should be just behind us, daggers—and abs—out. Sound good, Rigel?” I turned away from the possibly traumatized artist to give my husband a thumbs up.

“Why is it so important to have my shirt unbuttoned?” Rigel asked.

“Because you are incredibly ripped, and it’s going to make you look wicked cool next to these guys.” I gestured at one of the portrait walls.

“Um…” The artist—an unsuspecting gnome who had shrunk about four inches since I started describing to her what I wanted—clutched her box of oil paints to her chest. “The portrait will take multiple sittings to complete…Are…are you sure you want this?”

She motioned to the little stage I had set up for the portrait.

I’d brought Solstice and Eclipse inside, and I planned to dramatically press myself against Eclipse’s shoulder and rest my hand on Solstice, preferably with an expression that would make me look like a heroine in a gothic romance.

Muffin and Whiskers were going to be lounging near Solstice’s hooves, while Steve and Kevin would be at Eclipse’s.

Rigel would probably look normal—as much as I teased him about his abs I didn’t think he’d agree to it—but that was fine. It would make him a good foil to me. Since all the monarchs in the portraits were wearing dark, somber colors, I’d decided on the one lilac colored dress I owned as my outfit.

The whole thing was going to be ridiculous, and perfect.

“Yeah, it’s exactly what I want,” I said.

Rigel was standing next to me, and he’d been thoughtfully studying one of his daggers, but he looked up when the gnome tottered back to the canvas. “You don’t desire a ridiculous portrait just to stir up your Court?”

“That’s an added side benefit,” I confessed. “But it’s deeper than that.” I paused. “I wanted Killian and Hazel at my crowning party because they’re my friends, obviously, but I asked Hazel to bring a bunch of the wizards because I knew they’d lighten up the crowd. Our Court—our people are scared of me. And it’s not because of the way I took down Myron, but because fear of powerful monarchs is all they know. And I’m going to change that—one ridiculous portrait, one hilarious personal seal at a time.”

Rigel stared at me for several long, uncomfortable moments. “You really do care about the Court.”

“Yes,” I said.

He thoughtfully went back to studying his dagger. I took the opportunity to sneak a peek at Skye and Indigo.

The duo had set up shop just behind the artist at a heavy table Eventide and some of the other servants had dragged in. Skye was typing away on a wireless keyboard I’d bought her, and Indigo was reading a comic book.

“I’m surprised you two don’t have any objections,” I said.

Indigo turned a page in her comic book. “You do you, my Sovereign.”

“Since coming to work for you, I have realized even your most outrageous of actions