“Yeah, he liked them a lot. He pined after them once they took off after you.”
I shook my head at the fuzzy donkey. “You have messed up priorities, little man.”
Dad laughed, then leaned down to kiss me on the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, Leila.”
I peered up at him. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged. “You’ve been busy with your Court, but I can tell in your texts and your phone calls that you’re doing your best. You don’t even try to hide that you can’t stand most of your people, and you had to give up all your plans for the future that you’d worked hard toward, you know, being a mature adult and all.”
“Responsible Adult,” I said.
He chuckled. “A responsible adult, yeah. Despite all of that, you still do your best for your Court’s sake.” He smiled with all the love and affection he’d given me every day since I met him when he started dating Mom. “You’re special.”
I snorted. “Yeah, special like Bagel-the-idiot.”
“Maybe a little like Bagel, but neither he nor you are idiots.” He squinted down at me. “Not many animals could love those night mares of yours. But Bagel can, and you can. I don’t think you understand how special that is.”
I clutched my coffee cup tighter. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course.” He ruffled my hair, then looked back at the barn. “I better give the horses their hay for the night. I’ll be back—don’t run off while I’m gone!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.
As he headed out to the barn, Mom joined me, plopping down in the chair next to mine and passing over a slice of my favorite German chocolate cake.
“Thanks!” I eagerly dug into the thick slice. “I’ve missed your cookingso much.”
Mom gave me an amused look. “I think you miss eating regular food is the reality.”
“Can’t be helped.” I took a sip of my coffee to wash down the flavor of the sweet, coconut frosting.
Mom watched me devour my cake for a few moments. She stood up to pet Bagel—the donkey leaned eagerly into her hand. “Do you feel any better?” she asked.
I was only halfway done with my cake, but I set my fork down for the moment. “Yeah. I enjoyed the break—and getting to eat was amazing.” I sipped my coffee—my parents had made my favorite flavor, chocolate blueberry, for the occasion. “I’m not looking forward to going back.”
I’m dreading it, actually. Today just reminds me how little I like the fae.
“Have you asked Linus for help?” Mom sat back down on her chair, scooting it around to face me. “He told me he’s your official advisor.”
That little tattle-tale—I can’t understand how she can stand to talk to him!
“No, I haven’t asked him for help,” I said. “I don’t like him. I wouldn’t have even made him advisor, except if I hadn’t I think he would have wandered off and gotten himself farther in debt from gambling or drinking or whatever it is that he does.”
“He can be very capable.”
“He doesn’tactlike it,” I grumbled. “He runs around and is generally annoying. I don’t like that I’m half fae, but knowing I inheritedhisblood makes it worse.” I meant it as sort of a joke, but Mom didn’t smile.
She studied me with very soft but sad eyes. “You’re unhappy.”
I shrugged and went back to my cake. “I’m a human that’s been forced to run a fae Court. I don’t know anything about the Night Court, and I’m struggling to keep up with the nobles, stay alive, and learn what I need to so the Court itself can survive. They have all these rules…” I trailed off and stared down into my coffee cup before I took a swig of it, then finished the cake off.
I was about to stand up and go back to the house to load my empty plate in the dishwasher—or maybe to get myself another slice of cake, who knows?—but Mom reached out and set her hand on my arm.
I looked into my mom’s eyes, which were warm with love.
“Honey,” she said, her voice soft but kind. “You’re wrong.”
I blinked. “What?”
