Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,95
be a murderous assassin and this thoughtful? It shouldn’t be possible!
“Your silence leads me to believe Fell is the problem, and you’re contemplating if murder would really be so bad,” Rigel said.
I laughed. “No. For once, Fell is not behind my problems. I’m just contemplating how my dear husband came to be suspicious of my advances.”
“It’s because you talk like that,” Rigel said. He stroked my mid back with his thumb. “Sleep, Leila. Whatever battle you’re thinking of, it can wait until the morning.”
Hah, the morning? It seems like this is going to be a battle of many, many, many months. Oh well. Faint heart never won the fair…er…assassin?
My eyes drifted shut as I scooted just a little bit closer to Rigel.
His fingers traced a path across my back with a gentleness I didn’t know he had, and I drifted off to sleep.
About a week later—in early November—I decided to take advantage of the unusually warm fall afternoon and study outside in the garden.
“What would you like to study next?” Skye asked as she set a rock on a stack of papers to keep the wind from carrying them off. “The nobles of the Winter Court, or learn about the festivals most celebrated by the Winter Court?”
I slipped the housing report we’d just finished—since I technically owned the apartment buildings some of the Night Court lived in, I took my responsibilities as landlord very seriously—into a manilla folder. “I don’t get why I have to memorize Rime’s nobles. The Night Court, yes. Absolutely. I need to know my own people. But why do I have to know Rime’s?”
“Eventually you’ll need to memorize all the top players in the various Courts as you have more and more to do with them,” Skye said.
“And due to the constant shifts in power, the top players change all the time. You’re better off just memorizing most everyone,” Indigo advised.
I groaned and leaned back in my chair. “This stinks. Why can’t they wear nametags?”
Skye ignored my whining. “It is particularly important to know the most important nobles in the Winter Court since it is the strongest Court in our region, and Queen Rime serves as the fae representative on the Regional Committee of Magic.”
Deciding it was time to buck up and get to work, I sat up. “Yeah, I remember that. Is she the representative because she’s the strongest?”
“Yes and no,” Skye said. “It’s an important position because it gives that monarch the power to support and veto regional laws and bills on behalf of all fae kind. The representative has the power to greatly affect the future of the fae, so typically the spot is filled by powerful fae, but regions are known to rotate through.”
“Let me guess, the Midwest doesn’t because of Fell, Mr-stick-where-the-sun-don’t-shine?” I asked.
“Yep,” Indigo said. “He blocked Birch when he made a push to be made the new rep a while ago.”
“How very like him.”
I studied my teacup. Since Indigo knew I didn’t like tea, she’d made hot cider, and kept it warm and steaming with magic even though it’d been in my teacup for a few minutes.
I heard a distant crash, and the ground shook with enough force to make ripples appear in my cider. “What was that?” I stood up, turning around as I slipped my prism artifact out of my blue jean pocket.
“I don’t know.” Skye had her cellphone out and waved to the two guards who were watching us from a distance.
“I think it came from the maze.” Indigo pointed to the giant hedge maze stretched out next to us.
Ice crawled up my spine. “The gate to the Night Realm is at the center of that maze,” I said.
Another dull roar, and the ground shook again.
“I’m calling Chase.” Skye’s voice was tight with worry.
“I’ll call Lord Linus, then.” Indigo had her phone out and was speed dialing.
“Maybe I should call Rigel, so I don’t feel left out.” I laughed weakly at my own joke, but worry twisted my stomach when Skye nodded.
“A sound idea,” she said.
Before I could unearth my phone, a gate sprang out of the ground—a rounded archway made of stone with a familiar wrought-iron gate.
The gate was thrown open with such force it groaned and almost sagged on its hinges.
Three of my night mares—Eclipse, Solstice, and Blue Moon—burst through the gate. Solstice and Blue Moon were honking with the hoarse, bark-like sound the night mares used to warn off trouble. Eclipse, however, screamed loudly enough to shatter ear drums.