“Yes,” the Paragon agreed. “But I was talking about Dion!” He gave the young lord a dirty look when he laughed again.
“Except Dion has political loyalties.”
The Paragon peered at me over the rim of his spectacles. “To whom?”
“You.”
The Paragon made a strangled noise, and Aphrodite patted at his face with a paw.
“Lord Rigel is the only one with virtually no connections—he couldn’t have any or he wouldn’t be trusted as an assassin,” I said. “Which means I can do what I want, and I don’t have to worry about the political baggage he’ll bring with him.”
It was around then that it occurred to me the genius of my idea might backfire if Lord Rigel stopped getting work as an assassin because he married me, and he got angry as a result.
But he’d be untouchable by the Court. From his point of view he’d still be escaping political games…right?
I glanced at my fiancé, who was still brooding in the shadows.
“Perhaps.” The Paragon put his cat back down in her car seat, then adjusted the tie of his bathrobe. “But I still think you’re nuts. And why are you concerned about political ties? I thought your greatest aspiration was to survive?”
“I’m still very much concerned with that,” I assured him. “But my marriage is a long-term thing. And once I can finally convince the Night Court to follow me, I’ll still be living with the consequences of it.”
“Humph!”
The Paragon sat next to his cat, who affectionately purred and rubbed her head against his arm.
His reaction reminded me I had other people to be concerned about. I twisted, the skirts of my mermaid gown flowing around me. “How is the Court reacting, Skye?”
Skye set her tablet down and folded her hands in front of her. “There isangerto be sure, but acceptance as well.”
“That’s about what I expected,” I agreed. “Everyone was sure when I got married they’d know exactly how to control and move me.” I smirked. “Joke’s on them!”
“Lord Linus seemed…upset,” Chase said.
I waved it off. “Lord Linus frequently acts like a child. He’s probably just mad that Rigel isn’t the kind of person he can beg for money from.”
“Perhaps, but he left shortly after you announced the engagement and hasn’t been seen since,” Chase said.
I wonder what new level of debt he’s getting himself sunk in. Ugh.“It’s fine,” I breezily said. “He’ll drag himself back eventually.”
“The Court is mad and still can’t make a move, Rigel got himself a fiancée, and I’m free,” Lord Dion summarized. “All in all, I think this is the best possible outcome! And something tells me socials are going to bea lotlivelier in the future!”
“Some of the lords and ladies who had previously signed up to enter the annual derby are threatening to drop out.” Skye picked up her tablet again and peered down at it. “Which may become a problem. A minimum of six entries from a Court are required in order for the Court to enter.”
“And we can’t skip it?” I asked.
“Not if you want to keep the tiny scrap of respect the Night Court still has to its name,” Indigo snorted.
“The results of the race—” Skye started.
“Wait, wait—let me guess!” I declared. “They greatly affect the always fluctuating balance of power between the Courts?”
“Yes.”
“Thought so.” I plucked my prism from my clutch and rolled it between my fingers—a habit that had become weirdly soothing. “Only fae would see power plays in a stupid thing like a race.”
Lord Dion popped out of his chair. “Now seems like a convenient time to tell you that I’d love to be the royal lawyer, should the need ever occur.” He handed me a business card, which was fancy with gold embossed font.
I studied it for a second before passing it off to Skye. “Are you seriously implying you think we’re going to get a divorce before we even get married?”
