“You’rehalfhuman,” the Paragon corrected. “And when you focus on the forced marriage part, yes, it’s going to sound pretty bad. But this will play into the power game—for your benefit. Marrying will help you control the Night Court better—if you choose your husband carefully.”
I dropped my hand. “Oh?”
“If you pick someone with the sort of connections your people admire, it will make your job as monarch much easier. Though I would personally recommend you select someone with as few deep social connections as possible. It will split their loyalties.”
“It seems risky to split my power with another fae when youjustfinished telling me how toxic we are.” My groan scared the pigeon-griffin, who abandoned his McDonald’s bag to scurry under a bush.
“Oh, that’s another positive,” the Paragon said in an unnecessarily upbeat voice. “Youare the monarch chosen by the night mares, not him. You get to decide if you want to share power with him.”
That confused me enough to beat back my growing dread. “How does that work?”
The Paragon shrugged. “You’re the queen. You decide if your husband is going to be a mere consort or a true king. As the selected monarch, you can change your mind at any time—you can even demote him from king back to consort if you choose. Some monarchs only give their spouse the power to rule after they die—that’s what happened with Queen Nyte. That’s probably why she killed him, now that I think of it.”
I tried to dust off my knowledge of the dead queen. “She remarried—did she have to?”
“No. She chose to—and her new husband could only ever be called her consort. It’s only the monarch selected by the night mares that has the ability to share their power.”
A sigh leaked out of me. “The other Courts don’t have this rule, do they?”
“No,” the Paragon said.
Yep. I reaaalllyy wish I was anything besides half night fae.
“But, as I said, these rules were laid with the foundation of the Night Court here in America,” the Paragon said, opting to continue the history lesson. “Because it used to be one of the most powerful Courts. Unlike the Winter, Autumn, Summer, and Spring Courts—one of which exists in each region—or the Seelie and Unseelie Courts—which are found locally—your Night Court is the only one in existence in America. And because of its power, the founding king created these rules as a sort of power balance. Otherwise the Day Court—which is also the only one in existence here in America—was the only other Court with a similar amount of clout.”
That seems suspiciously thoughtful for a bunch of fae. I don’t buy it.
“Given how naturally linked the Day and Night Courts are in power, when the Night Court agreed to these laws it naturally checked the Day Court’s power as well,” the Paragon added. “To keep it, however, the laws were written into the very foundation stones of the palace. You can’t fight them, Leila, but you can use them to your advantage.”
“Let me guess.” I narrowed my eyes. “Thisfounding kingwas the same guy who decided night mares should choose the new ruler?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I have never so passionately hated a historic figure before,” I said.
The Paragon laughed uneasily. “He is venerated despite dying centuries ago—and he was extremely powerful and wise to adopt these laws as natural checks.”
“Wise, is it?” I slapped my thighs a few times, trying to pin down exactly how I felt about this seemingly endless downward spiral. “Yep. Okay. My life is already a burning dumpster fire. What could a political marriage do to make it worse?”
“It could be better than you are expecting. Monarchs before you have wed for political reasons, and forged a sort of warm friendship between them and their spouse,” the Paragon said.
That actually didn’t sound too bad.But! What were the chances of that actually happening?
Based on my reception today, I’d say slim.
I wiped my hands off on my jeans. “How much time do I have before I’d be expected to announce who I’m marrying?”
“Ideally, you’d be crowned in early August, and marry before then. You can make your decision on short notice. With your fleet of servants ready to work, it’s a relatively easy matter to put a wedding together in a number of days,” the Paragon said. “Though I would hope you might announce your engagement well before, giving you enough time to make your wedding day appropriately beautiful and romantic.”
“It’s a political marriage,” I said. “How romantic could it possibly be?”
“I know.” The Paragon gazed off into the shadowy depths of the garden. “I wish there was another way. But you have to play this game of power, or you won’t survive.”
Living is my priority, I reminded myself.And maybe if I survive long enough, I can change some of their outdated laws. My Court would probably get behind that, given that they got stuck with me.
The Paragon adjusted his ring, disassembling the bubble of magic.
I let out the breath I was holding—if he was dropping his magic, that meant he had no more bombs to drop on me. This was bad, but at least I knew where I stood—in a burning pit.
