“That’s about what I expected.” I said.
“It’s not good enough,” Lord Linus insisted. “I, for one, am inclined to grow faint at the thought of you living under such danger.”
Lord Linus was a perfect example of the craftiness of the fae. Even though they couldn’t lie, they wordsmithed everything. In reality Lord Linus didn’t care much about me, but he got around his lie by saying he was “inclined” to grow faint. Not that he actually did.
Ugh. I had made peace with my fae blood and didn’t dislike fae like I used to, but I still couldn’t stand all their stupid games and political maneuvering.
My hope was to end all of that—it was why I asked to be made the fae representative on the Regional Committee of Magic—and the Night Court was doing better. Since I’d married Rigel, the amount of political backstabbing had dropped drastically.
Don’t think about Rigel.
I tried to stuff back the pain his name brought and smiled at Chase. “Lord Linus doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Ignore him.”
Lord Linus squawked and finally stood straight so he could give me a wounded look.
“I think that covers everything for our morning meeting. Should we head back to the mansion?” I asked.
Skye made a few more notes in her tablet. “Indeed. Do you still intend to have your magic lesson with Lord Linus tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I reluctantly said. For all my issues with Lord Linus, I had to admit he was an excellent teacher in the more advanced magic techniques I hadn’t learned as a kid.
“Naturally.” Lord Linus puffed up his chest. “Magic is an art that must be mastered with the fires of one’s soul! Leila’s soul is on fire, now is the ideal time to shape her magic!”
I frowned at him. “Does talking like a nutcase come naturally to you? Or is that a learned behavior?”
“My dearest daughter, though you may speak to me so, know that I will love you as much as I always have, even during this rebellious stage of yours.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said.
He loves me as much as he has, which means he doesn’t love me at all, or he wouldn’t have left mom and me. He’s just fae wordsmithing.
“Chase, do you want to join Skye, Indigo, and me for lunch?” I asked.
“What, you’re not going to ask me?” Lord Linus asked.
“Nope. Definitely not.”
“How hurtful!”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to tag along anyway.”
“Certainly,” Lord Linus agreed. “But it might warm my soul to hear my own daughter invite me to lunch.”
“Whatever,” I said.
Muffin and Kevin abruptly broke away from Lord Linus and me, peering at the shadows. Kevin sniffed the air, and Muffin twitched her tail.
No. It couldn’t be.
But I knew it before he emerged from the shadows. My pets only reacted that way to one person—one particular fae lord.
Chapter Four
Leila
Rigel stepped into the dim light cast by my orbs of magic. The white light of the moon made his silver hair extra bright, but his eyes were difficult to read due to the shadows cast on his face by his sharp—and perfect—features.
Taller than me—taller than Chase and Lord Linus, even—Rigel was lean and lethal. Unlike most fae—who wore a smattering of fashion trends—Rigel always wore black pants, black boots, and a fitted black shirt that buckled at the shoulder. Today he was wearing his wraith jacket—the jacket he wore as an assassin—with the collar popped and the back of the coat split like a swallow’s tail.
There was something feral about him that was more reminiscent of the wild fae knights who roamed when the elves were still alive.
He didn’t smile, but there was something in the way he slightly tilted his head back that conveyed a smirk. “Hello, Leila,” he said in his voice that made my spine shiver. “I’m home.”
Skye made a noise in the back of her throat, and Chase slipped his handgun out of his shoulder holster and wracked it—loading a bullet—as I snatched up my staff.
Unlike other artifacts, my staff didn’t need an activation word. It automatically started feeding me magic, invading my senses so I could physically feel all the wild magic in the area, and even see flashes of it.
As my staff flared with power, I felt the wispy, sticky feeling of fae magic and glanced over at Lord Linus.
He held three glittering jewels pinned between his fingers. The jewels glowed with magic, but it took me a moment to realize they’d been carved into dice.
Of course.
I gritted my teeth as I turned back to the one responsible for the past two months of heartbreak and pain. “What are you doing here, Rigel?”
Rigel blinked. “I would have thought it’s obvious—I’ve returned.”
I wanted to cry—this was all I had dreamed about for the first few weeks he was gone. But it was too late.
A quiet click broke the silence as Chase turned off the safety on his gun.
It seemed it was up to me to question Rigel, so I made myself ask, “Returned for what?” I sounded defeated—I wanted to be stronger, but falling in love with Rigel had demanded a pretty serious emotional cost from me. I just…had nothing left. “Are you going to try killing me again?”
Rigel tilted his head the other direction. “What?”
“The trap in our rooms, your butterfly swords.” My voice shook a little, but I felt magic twine around me as it filtered through my staff.
It’s fine, I’m okay.
“I didn’t set up a trap in our rooms.” He narrowed his black eyes and looked a touch wilder as he took a step closer to us—to me. “I’ve never set up a trap for you.”
Something in me collapsed in relief—if he said it, it had to be true. But I didn’t relax just yet—it could be fae wordsmithing. “Then where were you?”
Rigel mutely stared at me.
Chase tilted his head from one side to the other, much like a dog trying to make sense of something. “Did you work with the culprit responsible for the trap?”
“No,” Rigel said.
Chase twitched his nose, and although he didn’t lower his gun, he slightly relaxed his stance.
Skye scowled at him. “What are you doing?”
Chase shrugged. “I figured it likely wasn’t Rigel who set the trap in their bedroom. He’ll still need to clear his name, of course, but as he cannot lie it seems he isn’t responsible, and I have no reason to attack.”
“He’s been gone for nearly two months,” Skye hissed. She glanced worriedly back at me.
“I said he probably didn’t set up the trap, not that he hasn’t mistreated our Sovereign,” Chase said.
“I’m not so easily convinced he’s innocent,” Lord Linus said in a voice of darkness and chaos. His expression was rock hard—a big switch from his usual charming smiles—and his three jeweled dice seemed to grow brighter.
Chase considered the fae lord’s words—I have no idea why he thought anything the nutcase said was worthy of pondering—then turned to me. “Your orders, Queen Leila?”