I kept my silence—Dion didn’t know I’d tried my hand at killing our mad queen before I knew she was bound to the Court. And if Queen Leila wasn’t going to reveal that, I saw no reason to tip the game of power one way or another.
Of course, I’d seen her several additional times since then, but then I’d have to explainwhyshe had the tendency to hiss at me like a cat.
“Although, now that I think about it, shedidsay when we met at the party that it was nice to finally be introduced. What do you think she meant by that?” Dion, in his irritating wit, raised both of his eyebrows at me, waiting for a response.
I heard a voice around a bend in the trail, and I held up a hand to silence my longtime friend.
“—good neighbors—the best, really. I miss Hazel, she’s hilarious, and—oh.” Queen Leila and her steward rounded the corner, stopping when they saw me.
The steward bowed graciously. “Lord Dion, Lord Rigel, good afternoon.”
Queen Leila, perched on top of the biggest night mare I’d seen—who looked like he was slashed through with glowing lines of red dotting his body—seemed to be warring between a look of politeness and open distaste.
Yes. She’s the only one with the guts to openly shoot at someone. I can only imagine the reaction provoked.
For a second, I wished I had been present to witness the act. Queen Leila wasfunnyin her anger.
I stared the new queen down, but it seemed that she wasn’t in the mood for any rude sayings today. She was hastily turning her massive beast around.
Dion turned on his charm, oozing likability and flashing a grin that had multiple ladies in the Night Court cooing over him. “Queen Leila—you look lovely today.”
“Thank you, Lord Dion.” She twisted around in the saddle with the familiarity of someone used to it.
It wasn’t surprising—I’d seen her parents’ farm.
It was interesting, though, that when she placed her hand on the night mare’s rear to stabilize herself, the giant creature didn’t budge.
I suppose they bound her because they like her.
“It’s a splendid day for a ride,” Dion said.
Our queen squinted at him. “I’m not sure I agree to that. It’s hot. I’d get rid of my jacket if I could, but I have been informed it’s necessary.” She cast a side look at her steward, who—aware that she ranked lower than Dion and me, even with her new position—had her eyes downcast, fixed on her hands.
“Would you care to ride with us for a spell?” Dion asked.
“Ah—no.” Queen Leila gave him a mini salute. “Sorry. Wouldn’t want to intrude on this festival of manliness.” She narrowed her eyes at me and sucked her head into her shoulders in wariness.
A muscle in my chest twinged with her unexpected hilarity—she looked like an angry turtle.
Oh, yes. I really wish I had been there to see her shoot at Lady Chrysanthe. It must have been highly amusing.
Dion laughed, using every ounce of his charisma to appear charming. “Queen Leila, you wound me.”
“If this is a festival of manliness, I imagine you’d fit in,” I said.
Queen Leila’s suspicion crusted over, and her vibrant purple eyes were little slits. “Oh?”
I prepared myself for a good show, because I was about to push one of her buttons. “You have the boldness for it, given you can shoot at one of your own courtiers. Is that not extremely manly?”
Her eyes flashed, and her open scorn was vibrant and colorful among the usual guarded fae reactions. “The ability to fight back isn’t limited to males—you just have outdated, backwater beliefs, you hulking mountain goat!”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “Your actions surpassed gender distinction. You are in a class of your own: stupidly bold.”
Queen Leila made a choking noise.
“Rigel,” Dion growled between clenched teeth. “Queen Leila, I apologize—Rigel is not used to dealing with such magnificent women as yourself. Many would find your firearm-related capabilities admirable.”
“I question that, given I only shot at Lady Chrysanthe about half an hour ago and you two already know about it,” Queen Leila said. “Unless you have a secret passion for gossip, Lord Rigel?”
