Crown of Shadows (Court of Midnight and Deception #1) - K. M. Shea Page 0,26

patio pressed into the back side of the Night Realm Palace. And while the silhouette looked beautiful, a second glance was much more telling.

The palace was decaying.

Even in the dimness of night, I could see the stone of the exterior walls were crumbling. The stone banisters and steps were covered with moss and pockmarked as if someone had taken a pickaxe to them.

The gardens were overgrown and filled with withered flowers, dry fountains, and bare bushes.

The air smelled stale and dusty, and only a few dim lights shone through what should have been sweeping doors made of delicate glasswork, but were instead cracked and hung uneven on their hinges.

“What…why…?” I couldn’t find the right words as I swung around to gape at the Paragon. “How could this happen?”

“The segments of the fae realm often reflect the state of the Court that owns them,” the Paragon said. “The same goes for the creatures that belong to the Court. The night mares appear starved, evil, and terrifying because that is the current state of the Night Court.”

“How could it be this bad?” I stared at the ruined palace, my mind almost flatlining in disbelief. “The fae adore the fae realm. They could never let it get this bad!”

“I’d like to say you only have your direct predecessor to thank for this.” The Paragon gestured to a toppled statue that was broken into chunks. “But I’m afraid the Night Court started to rot long before Nyte got her hands on it. The last few generations of Night Kings and Queens have been…less than noble. And with each new monarch it got worse.”

“And none of them tried to reverse it?”

The Paragon shrugged. “Even if the fae wished to, it is the monarch who decides the fate of the Court. Their actions dictate the power the Court has. The Night Court has been in a steady decline of power for quite some time, but when Killian Drake revealed that Queen Nyte killed her first husband—the king who was chosen by the night mares—the Night Court lost all credibility among the other fae Courts.”

I stared at a withered bush. “This is what you’re talking about, then. This is the threat that’s a whole lot bigger than a fae lord assassin.”

“Unfortunately, it’s only a part of it,” the Paragon grimly said. “Come.” He waggled his fingers at me and led me off the patio and out into the overgrown gardens.

He found two benches—they were stone and hadn’t rotted out like the wooden bench pushed in front of a nearby empty fountain—then plopped down.

When I sat down on the bench opposite from him, the Paragon adjusted his sapphire ring, once again creating the sparkling bubble around us.

“No one can hear us?” I asked.

“Indeed.” The Paragon took his glasses off and leaned forward, his eyes glowing with intensity as he addressed me in a voice that was a lot deeper than his somewhat dry and warbly one. “If you want the Court to survive long enough for the next generation or two, you will have to address this.” He waved his hand at the palace. “It was an open secret that Nyte bankrupted the Court. You’ll also need to do something about that. But neither of those issues should be your greatest concern.”

For a moment I wondered if my hearing was off.

Bankruptcy and the Court’s dead reputation aren’t the worst thing I have to face?

When I could finally get my jaw working, my voice shook a little in a weird cocktail of disbelief and despair. “What could be more important than the realm rotting around me and bad Court finances?”

“Your life,” the Paragon grimly said.

I paused. “I’ll agree with that. You’re going to tell me how to stay alive?”

“To the best of my abilities, yes.” The Paragon rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his chin to his fist. “The most accurate description I can give you—and the easiest one to understand—is to say that you are entering an incredibly complex, multileveled game of power.”

“Multileveled?”

“Hmmm. Here. This is you.” The Paragon grabbed a clover leaf from the one spot of greenery near us, and set it down next to him on the bench. “The base level of this unfortunate game is your Court—the Night Court.” The Paragon swiped a thumb-sized rock off the ground and casually tossed it on the clover leaf, flattening it. “The nobles will either try to gain your favor—not likely given your blood—or insult you until they figure out how to get rid of