I perked up. “When is that?”
“In two weeks.”
“I want to go!”
Skye pressed her lips together. “Monarchs don’t attend local markets.”
Chapter Seven
Leila
It turns out, Night Court monarchs attend local markets!
I grinned and clapped with the humans as I passed a werewolf juggling knives at the very front of the market. “This is going to be fun!”
“The supernatural markets are enjoyable—if not a little misrepresented,” Indigo said. She walked at my side, eyeing up the stalls with interest.
“Everything okay back there, Chase…and Rigel?” I asked.
Chase had his ear piece in and was dutifully scanning the crowd, though he stopped long enough to give me a reassuring smile. “My people are in place. You may proceed as you wish, Queen Leila.”
Rigel was loitering behind us, drawing whispers and looks from all the humans who saw him.
I wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come. He’d actually been MIA for two days, but then abruptly showed up when Indigo and I were hopping in the car to leave and wordlessly joined us.
But Rigel wasn’t the only one drawing stares.
Kevin and Whiskers—my male shade and gloom—walked perfectly on their blue leashes and collars I’d purchased for the occasion, not reacting even though some of the market goers were frantically taking pictures of them with their cellphones.
I’d been reluctant to bring the pair, but they had been really excited about the car ride, and Chase had very enthusiastically pointed out that pets were allowed at the market as long as they were on a leash. Though I was pretty sure he just wanted them around as an extra security measure and an easy way to keep people back.
Thankfully, the humans seemed more fascinated by Kevin’s wispy fur and Whiskers’ massive claws. I mean, my Court reacted with more fear than the humans were showing.
I took a deep breath and inhaled magnificence. “I smell apple cider donuts.”
“Oh, yeah—there’s a stall run by brownies just for baked goods,” Indigo said. “We should check it out. Since this is the fall market, they should have caramel apples, caramel corn, pumpkin bars—”
“Consider me on board,” I said.
“Only if Indigo purchases the food without you in sight,” Chase, ever diligent, said.
“It’s okay,” Indigo said. “My mom is working in the stall—she made some special for my Sovereign.”
Chase tilted his head back for a moment, then nodded. “That will be acceptable.” Feeling my eyes on him, he turned his golden gaze in my direction. “I apologize for these necessary steps, Queen Leila, but I will always remain most concerned with your safety.”
Since we’d paused in the middle of the street, Whiskers sat down and licked his massive paw, then lifted it up and rested it on my thigh like a house cat requesting pets.
I stroked his furry head, used to the thin, greasy feeling of his patchy fur—the poor boy. “It’s fine, Chase. I really appreciate your loyalty, and I’m glad to have you with us.”
Chase bowed his head to me. “I am your loyal subject, my Sovereign.”
His reaction caught me a little off guard—as a werewolf he was technically primarily loyal to his pack, and it was unusual that he’d adjust to calling me by a fae title since we supernaturals typically clutched our dividing lines close.
I didn’t think a market would be the best place to have that conversation, though, so I just smiled at the werewolf and resolved to ask him later.
Music threaded through the air, along with the fragrant smell of baked goods, freshly popped popcorn, and—if my nose was correct—fried meat, which I was willing to bet was being sold by a werewolf.
The supernatural market was held about once a season in downtown Magiford and was basically the magical version of a farmer’s market.
