“Clean it up for starters so it doesn’t look like a disaster,” I snorted.
Most Courts had residences in their realm as well as in human lands. My entire Court lived in Magiford because the Night Realm was in shambles.
There was pretty much zero plant life. The grass was brown and crunched when you walked on it. Some trees were still making an effort to sprout a few leaves, but most of them were skeletal and empty. A bunch of dry shrubs and dead flower beds spattered what used to be a very impressive garden, all the fountains had dried up, and any wooden patio furniture was half decayed and falling to pieces.
The castle was even worse. Even though it was made of stone it was crumbling at an alarming rate, and this back end of the castle once had walls and walls of windows, but they’d all blown out and shattered on the ground, making the area glitter with jagged shards.
Skye turned her back to the building. “Like the animals, it will improve as the Court improves.”
I shook my head. “I was made queen in May. It’s now January, and I’ve made a ton of changes and it hasn’t changed at all. It’s either not going to improve for years, or I’m too weak to inspire the change.”
Skye narrowed her eyes at me. “You are not too weak. You are using the original king’s very own artifact. You won the Magiford Derby and the annual fall hunt with the other Courts. You—”
“I know,” I interrupted her, hopefully stopping her before she really got on a roll. “But the night mares haven’t put on any weight; the glooms still pant and look diseased; and the castle looks like a bomb went off inside it.” I wobbled for a moment when Kevin leaned into me. “Maybe it’s because I’m only half fae?”
Skye’s brown eyes were extra soft as she watched me.
“Nonsense. It couldn’t possibly be your fault, my precious daughter.” Lord Linus stood up and picked his way back across the patio. “You come from too great a lineage for that.”
I held in a groan as the fae lord made his way to us, crouching down next to Kevin and Muffin long enough to pet each of them. Muffin purred and Kevin whined happily, the traitors.
Even though he looked like he was maybe in his late thirties, Lord Linus was my biological father. Fae were a lot longer lived than humans, and they aged way more slowly too, which was why Lord Linus looked young. The biological part of his title was the important bit, though, because he was not my dad. He left my mom when I was a toddler, and never bothered to show his face until I was crowned queen.
Unfortunately, our relationship was undeniable. I had the same inky black hair—which we both had pulled back in long ponytails at the moment—the same purple-blue eyes, and the same coppery complexion.
Technically, he was my official fae advisor, but I didn’t know what to make of the guy. He hinted that he had gambling debts, but I had Chase look into it, and although he was notorious for playing he didn’t actually owe anyone money. He frequently drank like a fish, but he’d never actually gotten in trouble. He walked the line of useless and helpful with his advice, but whenever I dealt with him I had to remember that he was always in it for himself—why else would he wait to show me his face until I was made queen?
“Actually,” I dryly said. “It’s probably because of my lineage that I think the problem is me.”
Lord Linus slapped a hand to his heart. “My daughter, your words wound me!”
“I’ve already told you not to call me that,” I snapped.
Chase cleared his throat, breaking the tense moment. “You said you’d like to clean up the castle—can you define what you mean by ‘clean up?’” He stood military straight, his shoulders precisely pulled back, and his uniform a perfect fit with crisply ironed lines.
“Let’s get all the broken glass out of here, clean up the trash—basically make it so someone could walk around without having to wonder if their tetanus shot is up to date,” I said.
Skye pulled a stylus from the pocket of her stylish suitcoat and scribbled on her notes app of her tablet. “Certainly,” she said. “Any other specific tasks? Would you like the gardeners to see to the gardens here?”
“They could try, but the gardens are too overgrown and half dead. I don’t know if they’ll get anything to ever grow without the sun,” I said.
Chase cocked his head. “You don’t expect the sun to rise again?”
“Based on what we see here? No,” I said.
“Now that’s a depressing way to look at things.” Lord Linus rubbed his chin and glanced at me. “But it does make a point. The sun hasn’t risen in the Night Realm for at least twenty years. But even when I was a kid the days here were short. You can’t undo decades of suffering in the Court and realm in six months, Leila, no matter how good you are.”
I was tempted to shrug off the observation—I really didn’t like Lord Linus—but maybe he was right.
At the very least I’m probably being too impatient. But I don’t like to see the glooms and shades looking half starved. And the Court has finally settled down and stopped fighting. I thought…I hoped…
I sighed as I stared at the broken castle.
A griffin—not one of the neat lion/eagle ones they had at the Autumn Court, but a house-cat sized griffin that was a cross of a pigeon and a raccoon—glided over our heads. In its stupidity, it smacked into one of the castle walls and skidded down it, shedding iridescent feathers and little tufts of fur from its striped tail.
The creature scrambled to its feet, ruffled its feathers, then threw up on the patio.
“Yeah, that seems about right,” I grumbled.
“I will organize the staff,” Skye said. “We will organize a work day in a few weeks—if that is an acceptable timeline, my Sovereign?”
I shook my head at the pigeon-raccoon-griffin-thing, then forcibly turned my attention to Skye. “Yeah, that sounds great. Are you still having your guys patrol in here, Chase?”
The werewolf nodded. “We haven’t had any activity since King Fell dropped the monster in here that you destroyed…with a hydra.” His pupils widened for a brief moment—Chase’s version of being spooked. “But I can cross reference with Skye what times will be scheduled for the cleanup efforts and make certain some of my people are here then.”
“Fantastic, thank you.” I smiled. “I don’t think any of the Courts are going to dump anything on us, but there are still at least one or two people out there who want me dead.”
There’d been multiple assassination attempts on my life. We actually thought it might be two different culprits because there was a very big difference in the attacks—one culprit only seemed to send monsters after me when I was surrounded by my loyal people and in areas where there wouldn’t be much collateral damage. The second was far more deadly.
The thought of my would-be-killers used to cause me a lot of anxiety, but I’d been living in a near-constant state of adrenaline since I was made queen. I was kind of over it by now.
“I’m assuming we don’t have any news on that end, still?” I asked.
Chase grimaced, and the magic orbs cast odd shadows on his warm, sepia-brown skin. “No leads, I’m afraid.”