sweet of you to say, Solis,” I said.
“It’s the truth!” Solis nodded emphatically.
Rigel twisted slightly to study the Day King. “All the monarchs appeared to be inebriated as you said on the phone. The Paragon fed them some of his charmed tea?”
“Yep!”
“And you didn’t drink any because you hate tea.”
“And I brought a latte with me, and I remembered Hazel complaining about the Paragon’s tea,” I said. “I’m really glad I didn’t try any. I can only imagine what sort of things I would have blurted out to everyone the way they were gushing.”
“You don’t have any secrets,” Rigel pointed out. “You’ve been very open and blunt.”
“Well, I don’t know if people know I’m having troubles with artifacts, but you have a point. Everyone already knows I can’t keep the ward up when I need to.” I sighed deeply.
The reminder of my failure made a sour taste in my mouth, so I was distracted and didn’t even mean to take the corner as fast as I did, sending Fell careening around the bed of my truck, sliding on the slick ice.
Solis had sprawled out in the backseat again. “Maybe we’ll make it. I’ve never been optimistic before, but now I might be!” He laughed at himself, then coughed abruptly.
“Can you check to make sure his seat belt is on?” I asked Rigel. “I thought I strapped him in, but he might have wiggled out of it.”
Rigel stared at me. “You’re odd.”
“What? Why?”
“None of the other fae monarchs would care if he wore a seat belt or not.”
“I care because it’s Solis—obviously, or I wouldn’t have Fell skidding around back there.” I slammed on the brakes for a four-way stop sign, and Fell smacked into the back of the cab, plastering his face on the window. “Sorry, Fell!” I called in a singsong voice as the Autumn King slid down the window.
“You care about Fell to some degree,” Rigel said. “Or you would have left him in the parking lot.”
“True,” I agreed.
“You care too much,” Solis said. “It’s a danger to you. But I’m still glad you’re the Night Queen. I’m glad the night mares picked you…” Solis trailed off and snored again.
Thinking back to the secrets the monarchs had spilled to me, I frowned and gripped the steering wheel with more strength than necessary. “Rigel, you met the monarchs for work before we got married, right?”
Rigel mutely stared at me, which meant he totally had.
“Are they scared?” I asked.
Rigel was silent for several long moments. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Do they act out and fight and have these power struggles because they’re afraid of what will happen if they mess up, or if they’re perceived as not having enough power?” I thought back to something Rime had said. “Are they afraid of magic dying out?”
“Of course,” Rigel said. “Everyone dreads the death of magic. As for their struggles, it’s a part of it, yes. They had the desire for power, or they wouldn’t have been made a royal. But they do have fear. A lot of it.”
“How can you tell?” I asked. “They can’t lie, but most fae are good at carefully hiding their expressions.”
Rigel shrugged. “Perhaps. But they give themselves away in the small things. How fast their heart beats, how shallowly they’re breathing, any nervous ticks they might have, things like that.”
“You can hear their heartbeats?” I asked, shocked. “I thought that was just a vampire and werewolf thing.”
Rigel shrugged. “I can typically get close enough to a target that I can hear what a werewolf would be able to hear halfway across a room.”
“Ahh. Right.”
We were silent for a while—except for Rigel giving me the occasional direction.
“Does it matter?” he abruptly asked when we reached Fell’s mansion—of course the Autumn King had the biggest, gaudiest place ever. He also had a gate that barred the way, but I didn’t even try to pull up to it. I wanted as little to do with the Autumn Court as possible, and I didn’t want anyone tattling to the Autumn King that I was responsible for his bruises.
“Does what matter?” I asked.
“Does it matter if the other monarchs are scared?”
I hopped out of the truck, waved to the guards who were watching me suspiciously, lowered the tailgate, then hopped back in the truck. “Yeah, it matters,” I said. “It doesn’t excuse their behavior—Fell deserves to rot for what he made Verdant do. But then I’ll know how to help them, since they’re too stubborn to ask for it themselves.”
“You’d