splendid day for a ride,” Dion said.
Our queen squinted at him. “I’m not sure I agree to that. It’s hot. I’d get rid of my jacket if I could, but I have been informed it’s necessary.” She cast a side look at her steward, who—aware that she ranked lower than Dion and me, even with her new position—had her eyes downcast, fixed on her hands.
“Would you care to ride with us for a spell?” Dion asked.
“Ah—no.” Queen Leila gave him a mini salute. “Sorry. Wouldn’t want to intrude on this festival of manliness.” She narrowed her eyes at me and sucked her head into her shoulders in wariness.
A muscle in my chest twinged with her unexpected hilarity—she looked like an angry turtle.
Oh, yes. I really wish I had been there to see her shoot at Lady Chrysanthe. It must have been highly amusing.
Dion laughed, using every ounce of his charisma to appear charming. “Queen Leila, you wound me.”
“If this is a festival of manliness, I imagine you’d fit in,” I said.
Queen Leila’s suspicion crusted over, and her vibrant purple eyes were little slits. “Oh?”
I prepared myself for a good show, because I was about to push one of her buttons. “You have the boldness for it, given you can shoot at one of your own courtiers. Is that not extremely manly?”
Her eyes flashed, and her open scorn was vibrant and colorful among the usual guarded fae reactions. “The ability to fight back isn’t limited to males—you just have outdated, backwater beliefs, you hulking mountain goat!”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “Your actions surpassed gender distinction. You are in a class of your own: stupidly bold.”
Queen Leila made a choking noise.
“Rigel,” Dion growled between clenched teeth. “Queen Leila, I apologize—Rigel is not used to dealing with such magnificent women as yourself. Many would find your firearm-related capabilities admirable.”
“I question that, given I only shot at Lady Chrysanthe about half an hour ago and you two already know about it,” Queen Leila said. “Unless you have a secret passion for gossip, Lord Rigel?”
“Ahaha.” Dion used the fake laugh he trotted out whenever he was trying to smooth a situation over. “Gossip is such an ugly word. Do let us return to civilities and polite language—”
“The screams were hard to miss,” I said.
“Ahh, Lady Chrysanthe does have a lovely set of lungs,” Queen Leila said.
“Quite,” I agreed.
Dion and the queen’s steward stared at us both for several moments of silence. Dion, particularly, gave me the stink eye.
I stared back at him.
While I’m not sure our queen’s blunt way of speaking will have a positive influence on the Court, I’m going to enjoy it as long as she’s around—or as long as that particular quirk survives. Once she realizes we’re bound to her will I imagine it’s only a matter of weeks before she has us dancing to her orders like puppets.
It was an idea I did not look forward to, though I was relatively skilled at evading royal orders. But the thought alone was enough to make me push another one of our half human queen’s buttons.
“You brought a gun to a hunt?” I asked.
“Yep.” She gave me a bored look. “Because I, unlike the rest of you fae, apparently, live in the twenty first century.”
“It hardly seems sporting given the rest of us are armed only with bows or crossbows,” I said.
“Oh please.” Queen Leila snorted. “If you were feeling particularly motivated, you could kill someone with a toothpick.”
“Queen Leila,” the steward said in a voice that quivered with fear. “Perhaps we ought to ride on?” The steward lost some of her poise and looked distinctly sick with fear as she glanced at me.
“The toothpick would be unnecessary,” I said. “Nor would a gun.”
“Whatever!” The night mare started walking off on its own accord, but Queen Leila clung to the back of the saddle so she could shout to me, “I’m not the one who is an openly acknowledged assassin—talk about bad business practices!”
“Queen Leila,” the steward said in a tight, quiet voice. “You cannot speak like that to Lord Rigel.”
“I totally can! You just don’t want me to.” Our entertaining queen stuck her nose up in the air. When the night mare moved into a smooth-flowing trot, her body gracefully moved with him, even though she couldn’t possibly see anything like that.
Yes, she is quite amusing when she’s angry. Like a puffed-up kitten.
“It’s fascinating, but she doesn’t seem to fear you. I don’t know if that’s admirable or not, though. Even Queen Nyte