Crown of Shadows (Court of Midnight and Deception #1) - K. M. Shea Page 0,95

Skye insisted I wear gloves tonight even though it’s not really in style. My palms are so sweaty, I could fingerpaint. I wonder if Indigo picked out a mermaid style gown because I can’t run easily in it?

For today’s auspicious occasion, I’d been poured into a gown that flared at the knees. It was such a deep blue color it was almost black, though it had silver trim around the bottom of the skirt, and the neckline was designed to look like glittering stars.

Don’t trip. Don’t trip. Don’t trip. I glanced up and happened to catch Lady Chrysanthe’s eye.

She glared at me, then leaned into Lord Myron and whispered.

The look Lord Myron gave her was…odd. It was sneery, and if I didn’t know better I’d say I had seen this expression before—when he was looking at me. It didn’t matter; as she spoke, his expression smoothed over, and he grinned at her and said something back.

Their little exchange reminded me, though.

I’m not going to let the fae know how much this stupid engagement thing bothers me. Least of all Lord Dion—I don’t want him pouncing for power if he thinks he can take it.

For a moment my heart was crushed.

I can’t be safe or free in a single part of my life, can I? No, I have to be pushed in from all sides and be ever-aware that even my husband will try to play this stupid power game. Particularly when he finds out how much I mean to change about this rotten place.

I reached the gazebo and climbed the few stairs into it. Giant spotlights were pointed at it—because we couldn’t go for elegant—and cheaper—mood lighting. Gosh no.

Naturally, my Court would want to see every detail of my unwanted engagement in clear lighting.

Skye’s forehead puckered with worry. She started to reach out, hesitated, then returned her hand to her side. “Just make the announcement of your fiancé,” she whispered. “And this will be over.”

The slight smile she gave me brimmed with sympathy. Then she bowed and made her escape, leaving me alone under the hot lights and the expectant stares of my Court.

I forced a smile and nodded in greeting. “Thank you for coming to this important event, where I announce my chosen husband.”

The crowd seemed to inch forward, pushing against me with their sheer will. I swear the individual faces I could make out were all drawn with anticipation and greed.

“After giving this unusual and clearly outdated requirement some thought,” I started. And yes, the rip on the marriage thing was entirely necessary! “I have chosen he who will rule with me, share the burden of power, and safeguard our people. And it is—”

I glanced at Lord Dion—he was easy to spot with his bright red hair. He was, of course, standing with Lord Rigel. Lord Dion gave me a charming smile, but Lord Rigel’s eyes were half mast, barely disguising his open boredom. At least there was one member of my Court who didn’t care about political movements!

Wait.

Everything in my mind sharpened, and I stopped breathing.

Wait. Lord Rigel doesn’t have any political connections. Lord Dion is his only friend, he’s the only surviving member of his family, and since he’s an assassin everyone leaves him alone.

Rigel has no ties to any power except his own.

I stared at him, and I felt something dangerous in my chest: hope.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Leila

What I really wanted was a shell to stand around and play the role of husband. I didn’t want anyone sticking his oar in trying to tell me what to do—because no fae would willingly agree to break the game of power like I intended to.

I wasn’t looking for love, or help, or protection.

I just wanted someone who would leave me alone—and maybe not kill me as a major bonus.

He believes in all the power plays, but only because he thinks the pattern can’t be broken. He did try to kill me, but he said he canceled the contract, and he can’t lie. But is just canceling the contract a clear enough action to gamble my entire life on? I mean, he’s an assassin.

I licked my lips, and was only distantly aware that the crowd was starting to stir at my long and awkward silence.

Can I do it? Do I have the guts to make an assassin my consort?

The possibilities made my brain buzz, and I knew I had made my decision when I ripped my gaze away from him, thinking, Skye is going to have to give Chase some