Crown of Shadows (Court of Midnight and Deception #1) - K. M. Shea Page 0,70
that resonates with me?” I asked.
Skye had gotten herself a leather case for her tablet, which she flipped over it and gripped like a clutch as she frowned in thought. “That’s difficult to say, as only royals have experienced the process. When I researched the process, it seemed to be a very strong, unmistakable pull. When you touch it, you’ll know.”
“‘You’ll know,’ typical magic description,” I grumbled. “Thank you for researching this so thoroughly.”
Skye shrugged. “I had plenty of time while you were practicing magic and reading fae history books.”
“Ahh, yes, I was very happy to graduate from ‘Good Manners Mandy’ and move on to more serious topics,” I said. “Though I wish you had not given me the children’s textbook version.”
“Were you offended by the reading level?”
“No. The pictures were awful! They need to get a better artist,” I complained.
A smile briefly warmed the edges of Skye’s lips. “Good luck, Queen Leila. I look forward to your triumphant ceremony.” She bowed, then swept off, leaving me and Indigo alone.
I sighed and raised a hand to rub my eyelids.
“Don’t you dare.” Indigo prodded my skirt. “It took me too long to get your eyeliner right—I don’t want you ruining it.”
When I cracked a smile at my companion she sniffed, then added, “You’ll do fine, my Sovereign. I know you’re worried about your magic, but in truth I think you’ve practiced more than a lot of nobles bother to.”
“Maybe,” I said. “It just seems better to brace myself—every official social situation I’ve been in has had a disaster in some form or another.”
“No one can set a trap for you,” Indigo said. “Only royals are allowed in these chambers—magic kills any regular fool who is stupid enough to try otherwise. It’s a safe location. And the artifact resonates with you. They’re impartial judges—you won’t face any hatred for your blood.”
I nodded, my spirits lifting a little—I’d been feeling a little low ever since the Night Realm shrunk a few days ago, and had been dreading this, but Indigo had a point.
“You’re right,” I said.
“Of course I am.” Indigo put her hands on her hips. “Now, go pull your sword from the stone!”
I paused, my hand on the door. “Do they really have one of those in there?”
“I meant it figuratively.” Indigo shook her head. “Stop freaking yourself out. Besides,” she turned and started down the hallway in the same direction as Skye had. “You don’t really care what all of those fussbudgets think, anyway!”
I grinned at the brownie’s back and watched until she disappeared around the corner, before I reluctantly pushed open the rather unassuming door that was dust covered and had a few cobwebs draped around its frame.
The treasure room was deep in the heart of the castle in the Night Realm—it was a ceremony that couldn’t be moved to the human world because, as Indigo had said, only royals were allowed inside.
Given the state of the castle, I’d prepared myself for a crumbling room with tarnished, decaying treasures.
But when I stepped inside, I found a space untouched by the passage of time.
Gold globs of magic flared to life, lighting up the chamber. A spell, written out in symbols, wrapped around the exterior of the room—it cast the light, served as a defense spell, and had a few other pieces to it that were too advanced for me and written in a language I didn’t understand.
Inside the room were enough treasures—and of rare variety—to match a small country’s gross domestic product. See? I’d been studying up a lot on ruling a country, er, Court.
There were baskets of giant gems; rows and rows of weapon stands filled with swords, halberds, staffs, bows, and more; trays of necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings studded with massive jewels; beautiful, ornately made instruments ranging from a violin to a golden flute to a lyre; huge shelves stuffed with magical tomes that were bound in dyed leather; and less regular artifacts, like a compass that smelled strongly of the ocean, a teacup made of solid gold, and an armoire filled with masks in different shapes and sizes.
The air smelled like metal, wood polish, and—weirdly—of dew. There wasn’t a single cobweb or speck of dust to be seen anywhere.
The door closed behind me with an ominous thud, and I stood in the entryway, waiting for the pull of an artifact.
And I waited.
And waited.
Oh my gosh. I’d bet a lifetime supply of my favorite coffee that I’m going to be the first fae queen who doesn’t have an