Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,78

her hands on my shoulders. “Which one?”

I sucked my neck into my shoulders. “The staff of the original king.”

“I’m going to go get it, then you can show us what you mean.” Skye stood up and was halfway across the patio before I realized what she was saying.

“Wait—is that okay? I thought those artifacts were super sacred or something.”

“They are sacred, but it’s not that Night Court monarchs aren’t allowed to touch them—there’s just never been anyone who resonated with them. I’ll be back!” Excited, Skye hopped through one of the many shattered windows, disappearing into the castle.

About ten seconds passed before I realized this meant I was stuck on the patio with Lady Chrysanthe-the-awkward, and I regretted not following Skye.

The fae lady was admiring her teacup with great care—just enough so she didn’t have to look at me.

Why is she being like this? Weird.

I cast around for a conversation topic so I didn’t have to sit and watch her stare at her teacup the whole time Skye was gone. “I hope you liked going to the movies—despite those shadow snake things.”

“The movie theater was very enjoyable.” Lady Chrysanthe sat on a rickety wooden chair that I would have sworn wasn’t stable enough to use. “I had not bothered to view human entertainment prior to the excursion, but it was interesting and educational. Many members of the Night Court were deeply intrigued by the concept of human entertainment.”

“By the movie theater, or the actual movies themselves?” I asked.

“Although we all agree the movie theater was delightful—even if it did not accept gold coins as legal tender—the movies in particular were intriguing.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have a monthly Netflix night at the mansion—popcorn and snacks would be a lot cheaper than the usual meals I have to provide,” I grumbled.

Lady Chrysanthe sipped her tea and said nothing more.

Well. That topic died quickly. Am I reading her wrong and she doesn’t actually want to talk?

I arched my back and casually stretched my arms above my head, figuring I should settle into silence.

Lady Chrysanthe stared expectantly at me, her blond hair dappled by the ever-present moon.

Okay, silence is not what she wants.

“What brings you to the Night Realm this early?” I asked.

Lady Chrysanthe set her teacup in the saucer with a quiet clack—speaking of which, where was she getting hot tea from if she’d been here since six?

“I have taken to pondering and reflecting more as a new part of my day,” she said. “The Night Realm is a wonderful place to think.”

I eyed the crumbling castle, dry fountain, and half-dead gardens. “Is it?”

“Indeed. I feel that this space reflects my inner mood.”

I almost rolled my eyes, figuring this was just another way she was implying she would be a better queen than me, until I rewound what she’d said and chewed through it a second time.

It reflects her inner mood? This barren, dead place? I peered at her with a new thought dawning on me. Is she…is she lonely? Is that why I’ve seen her around more?

I felt stupid even wondering about it.

I just assumed fae—being what they are—could never feel something like loneliness. If they could they’d be lonely for most of their lives. Was I wrong?

I thought of Indigo hiding her interests, of how Skye used to use her serenity as a mask, and even Rigel and the way he used his lethality to draw a line between him and everyone else.

I could be horribly wrong. She could be attempting another political maneuver. But I don’t think her pride would allow her to be this awkward even if she was.

I scratched my arm and wished Skye would hurry up and get back. “Yeah, is everything okay with you? I’ve noticed you haven’t been hanging around with your friends much.”

I expected a huff, maybe a sharply worded rebuttal, or perhaps an overly cloying reply if she really was doing this for politics.

Instead, Lady Chrysanthe stared at her teacup. “They weren’t my friends. They were fae roughly my age and from appropriately powerful houses—social connections. We weren’t particularly close, but I didn’t realize how much they hated me until you revealed Myron’s actions.”

I didn’t want to pressure her, so I studied one of the castle’s shattered windows. “That seems sad.”

“It is the way of the fae,” Lady Chrysanthe said. “We must use every connection to our advantage. Personal preference means nothing compared to political power. Who cares if the one you call a friend may betray you in a week—you just need to