Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,80
hand off the staff. She and Skye watched me, their worry apparent in different ways. Skye’s forehead wrinkled, while Chrysanthe’s eyebrows traveled halfway up to her hairline.
“That was not a normal reaction—not even for something like resonating,” Chrysanthe said.
“I agree,” Skye said. “I expected it would have been calling to you, and you just didn’t notice until you touched it. But that was…not what calling looks like. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it seemed to be an incomplete resonation.”
“But how could that be?” Chrysanthe asked. “The staff is whole. A part of it would have to be broken for an incomplete resonation.”
I coughed. “It’s that Original Creep. I seriously dislike him.”
“The original king has nothing to do with your reaction to his staff,” Skye said.
“Maybe not, but I’d seriously love to deck him for all the trouble he’s saddled me with,” I grumbled. “Then I’d feel a lot better about life.”
“If you feel that strongly about him, we could egg his gravesite,” Chrysanthe, of all people, suggested.
I widened my eyes to the point of goggling. “You’d do that? But you’re from the Night Court! Everyone in the Night Court belongs to the cult of the Original Creep!”
Chrysanthe shrugged. “When Grandmother believed I had a chance of being the next queen, I read over the rules for becoming the ruler. I also did not think highly of the law that required the monarch to marry before being crowned.”
“I’m glad we’re friends now,” I said.
That got another blush out of Chrysanthe, but I was surprised that Skye didn’t react at all. She was staring at the small, chipped crystal that jutted out of the tip of the staff.
“Skye? Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, I just think I have some research to do.” Skye shook her head, then bowed to me. “Thank you for showing us what happens when you touch the staff, my Sovereign. I’ll go return this, and then we should head back to the mansion. You have many important tasks to complete today. Foremost, you need to respond to a correspondence from the Paragon. He’s invited you to his personal pocket realm for tea.”
“Gotcha. Thanks, Skye.”
“My pleasure.” Skye smiled at me, but when she turned to go back into the castle—still carrying the staff with her cloth-covered hands—I caught her frowning down at the staff, deep in thought.
She’ll tell me if she finds something. Whatever it is, though, I hope it’s not bad.
Based on her expression, I wasn’t sure.
I was initially pretty excited when Skye told me about the Paragon’s invitation, because I liked him a lot. But when I took a look at the fancy card, I read the fine print and saw it was an invitation for the Fae Ring. In other words, Solis, me, and the four season Courts.
I didn’t like tea, but it was the idea of getting stuck in a small space with Fell and Birch that inspired me to try to wiggle out of it.
Skye wouldn’t let me—said it was too important, and then got Indigo to back her up.
They did let me protest the event in my own small and—as Indigo told me—“unimportant” ways.
First of all, I drove myself to the meet up point in my truck—don’t get too excited. Chase had installed a wireless camera and a hotspot in my truck for outings like this.
But I also got to wear comfortable clothes—jeans and a leather jacket I’d gotten pretty fond of—and, most important of all, I first drove to King’s Court Café and got myself a large pumpkin latte so I didn’t have to drink any gross weed water with the rest of the monarchs.
All of these things combined into one glorious picture as I drove up to the meeting point—the parking lot of the local library—where the other monarchs were waiting with their much fancier cars.
Fell—leaning against a Rolls-Royce and looking shockingly modern in a black suit—arched an eyebrow at me as I climbed out of my truck. “Is the Night Court so poor you’ve had to take up farming?”
I fished my latte out of the door cupholder, then locked my truck. “Nah. I just figured if I got the chance to run you over, I should bring something that could get the job done.”
Fell looked mildly alarmed at my statement of violence.
I sipped my latte, reveling in the pumpkin flavor. “Oh, that’s good stuff.”
Fell leaned back and put on what were probably ridiculously expensive sunglasses. “You are worse than a savage mongoose.”