“Then that means this probably was an attack by another monarch, right?” I asked. “Solis, have there been any attempts on your life?”
“No,” Solis said. “No monsters have been set upon me. I haven’t heard of anything from the other Courts in our region, but there’s a chance they’d try to cover them up so as to not appear weak.”
I tapped my fingers on the table—which was of course a monster of a furniture piece and had rearing unicorns sculpted into the legs—as Eventide scurried around, distributing tea for the second time since our meeting started.
“Tea, my Sovereign?” Eventide asked when he got to me.
“No thank you, Eventide.”
“It’s masala chai tea.” He picked up a handle-less clay cup and held it out to me, wafting the aroma toward my nose. “Cooked with milk, sugar, and spices.”
Oh, ho, ho—they’re starting to figure out how to make tea appealing to me.
Truthfully, the drink smelled fantastic—an earthy combination of ginger, cinnamon, and cloves. But I wasn’t going to drink tea in my mansion until the chef let me buy a coffee maker. If I broke and drank tea now, my tea-obsessed staff and Court wouldneverlet me have coffee again!
“I’m sure our guests will appreciate it,” I said.
Eventide gave me a sad look with puppy-dog eyes, but moved on to serve tea to Solis, his goat hooves tapping the marble tiled floor as he scurried along.
“Who else besides royals would have the ability to do something like the skull monster?” I asked.
Solis sighed, and the lines around his eyes that always made him look happy seemed tired and discouraged. “I can swear an oath that I had nothing to do with this skull monster.” He took a clay cup of tea from Eventide and rubbed his thumb on the unglazed exterior.
“You’re not a suspect, Solis, or you wouldn’t be here.” I smiled at the Day King.
His returning smile was wan, but when he took a sip of his tea some of the tension eased from his shoulders.
“But, Paragon, I’d appreciate a hot tip, then—since you areknowledgeable,” I continued.
The Paragon scowled at me. “What?”
“Please share, are there regional fae wars that I don’t know about?”
“Ah. Good question.” The Paragon settled down—he must have thought I was about to out him to Solis. “At this moment there aren’t any wars between the various regions. Oh, sure, there are the deep rivalries and other such nonsense, but no one has declared an actual war.”
I turned to Chase, thinking the Paragon had finished.
“But…” he started and trailed off. He stared at a painting of the Original Creep on the wall, then drank a sip of tea.
“Yes?” I asked when he finished.
Aphrodite jumped from the Paragon’s shoulders and sat on the table just in front of him. The Paragon busied himself with adjusting her pink sweater she wore to combat the cooler temperatures.
“What I am about to say must remain in these halls,” he finally said. “Solis is aware of my suspicions because I questioned him when tracking information. The crux of the situation is, I believe Queen Nyte—the ruler just before you who essentially ruined the Night Court—had backers. That was how she had the means to wage war on the Drake Family.”
I nodded slowly. “That makes sense—the Court finances were terrible, and we’re still fighting to pay off all our debt.”
But the Paragon wasn’t done. “While it wouldseemthe backers were intent on getting rid of the Drakes, I believe the real point in goading Nyte to attack Killian was to topple the Night Court.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Leila
Iblinked. “Okay, now I’m not following you anymore. How could that topple the Night Court—unless the backers assumed Killian would wipe them out? But in that case they don’t know Killian. He’d rather blackmail them and keep the Court under his control. Then he could make them dance to whatever tune he likes and have an in with the fae.”
Everyone stared at me.
“What?” I said. “Hey, I consider him a friend, but I’m realistic about the guy.”
