the Seelie and Unseelie Courts—which are found locally—your Night Court is the only one in existence in America. And because of its power, the founding king created these rules as a sort of power balance. Otherwise the Day Court—which is also the only one in existence here in America—was the only other Court with a similar amount of clout.”
That seems suspiciously thoughtful for a bunch of fae. I don’t buy it.
“Given how naturally linked the Day and Night Courts are in power, when the Night Court agreed to these laws it naturally checked the Day Court’s power as well,” the Paragon added. “To keep it, however, the laws were written into the very foundation stones of the palace. You can’t fight them, Leila, but you can use them to your advantage.”
“Let me guess.” I narrowed my eyes. “This founding king was the same guy who decided night mares should choose the new ruler?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I have never so passionately hated a historic figure before,” I said.
The Paragon laughed uneasily. “He is venerated despite dying centuries ago—and he was extremely powerful and wise to adopt these laws as natural checks.”
“Wise, is it?” I slapped my thighs a few times, trying to pin down exactly how I felt about this seemingly endless downward spiral. “Yep. Okay. My life is already a burning dumpster fire. What could a political marriage do to make it worse?”
“It could be better than you are expecting. Monarchs before you have wed for political reasons, and forged a sort of warm friendship between them and their spouse,” the Paragon said.
That actually didn’t sound too bad. But! What were the chances of that actually happening?
Based on my reception today, I’d say slim.
I wiped my hands off on my jeans. “How much time do I have before I’d be expected to announce who I’m marrying?”
“Ideally, you’d be crowned in early August, and marry before then. You can make your decision on short notice. With your fleet of servants ready to work, it’s a relatively easy matter to put a wedding together in a number of days,” the Paragon said. “Though I would hope you might announce your engagement well before, giving you enough time to make your wedding day appropriately beautiful and romantic.”
“It’s a political marriage,” I said. “How romantic could it possibly be?”
“I know.” The Paragon gazed off into the shadowy depths of the garden. “I wish there was another way. But you have to play this game of power, or you won’t survive.”
Living is my priority, I reminded myself. And maybe if I survive long enough, I can change some of their outdated laws. My Court would probably get behind that, given that they got stuck with me.
The Paragon adjusted his ring, disassembling the bubble of magic.
I let out the breath I was holding—if he was dropping his magic, that meant he had no more bombs to drop on me. This was bad, but at least I knew where I stood—in a burning pit.
“That’s the worst of the news,” the Paragon said, confirming my guess. “From here on you can begin to build your own path. Today you’ll get settled, and tomorrow I expect you’ll be asked to choose your steward—they’ll be your right hand in all of this.”
I also stood up and retrieved the trashed McDonald’s bag. “Any tips on who to choose when I can’t trust anyone?”
The Paragon shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Don’t let yourself be swayed by sob stories. Instead, question everyone—and watch carefully for any vague or misleading words they use.”
“Cool, I always wanted to play detective in a struggle to preserve my life. This should be thrilling.” I wadded up the bag and followed the Paragon as he led the way out of the abandoned gardens.
He chuckled. “I think you’ll do better than you expect, Leila. I suspect your sarcasm will help you slice through all the lies your Court will try to feed you.”
“I hope so,” I said grimly. “Because I don’t have any other options.”
Chapter Eight
Leila
As the Paragon predicted, I was shown to my room in my new mansion.
I’ll admit, the room was a giant perk—not enough to make up for the whole everyone-may-try-to-kill-me thing, but the massive bed, with the bathtub that was practically the size of a small pool, did a lot to improve my mood.
I didn’t sleep a lot—all of the ugly truths the Paragon had dropped on me didn’t exactly lull me off to sleep, and despite his dismissal I still was pretty worried about the