still held a hint of my confused disbelief. Even if she wasn’t colluding with her son, she was definitely scheming. Of course, she was a Faerie queen. That was kind of like saying she was breathing.
She hadn’t asked any questions, so we didn’t answer. We’d gained about as much out of this trip as we were likely to get. She’d made it clear we couldn’t question her people—or even suggest it without giving offense—but we knew Ryese was alive and in the light court, making him our prime suspect. Anything else was gravy. We just needed to be dismissed and take our leave until we could put together enough evidence to force the queen to hand over her son for crimes against the winter and shadow courts.
The queen pouted prettily at our silence. “If you are looking for a new, stronger court, dark prince, I would gladly accept you here.” She gave him her best benevolent smile again. “And there is a place for your betrothed, as well. I could always use a planeweaver.”
“You are very well informed,” Dugan said, but I blanched at the words.
Very few people knew about my supposed betrothal. How had she learned of it?
To cover my reaction I said, “Your sister would be most displeased if I left her court.” Not that I had any particular loyalty to winter, but still.
The queen laughed, a soft tinkling sound that made Faerie itself laugh with her. “She is my younger sister. Younger siblings are used to their older siblings taking their things. It makes them good at sharing.”
Yeah. No. “Good at sharing” wasn’t something I’d ever use to describe the Winter Queen.
“So what say you, Cousin? Are you ready to come into the light? I could even offer you a council position,” the queen said, and the fae closest to her throne, who I guessed were her current council, looked among themselves nervously.
“I must humbly refuse your generous offer,” he said, bowing stiffly.
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you were smarter than that. Your king’s plan to restore his court is doomed to fail. I will not make such a gracious offer twice.”
Again, he bowed. “The rumors of your generous offers are whispered throughout shadow. Many of my courtiers have left to take a place in your light, and yet I see so few of them here.” He looked around the assembled fae.
I looked around as well. I hadn’t really paid attention to the gathered fae individually, but only noted them as a group. Now that I looked, though, I noticed that the gathered fae were the least diverse I’d seen. All were what humans would call beautiful. None were of the monstrous or less humanoid variety.
There were a few wings, but all were feathered like what one might find in a Renaissance painting of angels; a very few were bright like giant butterfly wings. None were leathery, tattered, or membranous, though I spotted some fae that I could tell by height and facial structure should have had such wings. Instead they wore ornate cloaks, keeping them out of sight. Several fae wore elaborate wraps or headdresses that hid horns or hair that contained leaves or feathers. Fauns wore pants and skirts with their hooves shoved in shoes. There were no trolls or giants towering over their neighbors, or small goblins or noseless brownies. No one had extra limbs, or bodies twisted in unexpected ways. While there were fae with skin tones of every shade of the rainbow, there were few who sported unusual textures to that skin. I did spot one fae who appeared to be made of living stone, but I could only tell by the pebbles surrounding her eyes—the rest of her face was obscured by a heavy veil. There were certainly none of the far more grotesque fae I’d encountered in the shadow court.
“Anyone or thing of beauty is welcomed in my halls,” the queen said magnanimously.
Dugan kept searching the crowd, his frown growing. I could almost see him counting how many faces he expected to find that were missing. Where are his former courtiers?
“You’re sure they were coming here?” I whispered the question as quietly as possible, and he gave me the smallest nod.
The queen didn’t seem to notice. She turned to me.
“And you, planeweaver? Will you join my court?”
“I am under contract to winter until my year and a day as an independent has expired.” It was an easy out that let me not answer the question.
“And I suppose you’ll go to