of the dress flattering but far from revealing, ending at the queen’s ankles. The green gown was sewn through with golden threads and trimmed with more gold. A belt of beaten gold plates hung at her waist, a small golden dagger attached to it. Green-and-gold slippers completed the outfit. The entire ensemble made her look both elegant and timeless.
She was flanked on either side by what I could only guess were handmaidens. They both wore dresses that were simpler versions of their queen’s. Beyond them, outside the tent, were more fae, these wearing armor crafted of bark and leaves and standing at attention in orderly formation. They were so very different from the frolicking fae in the field, I could only guess that they’d arrived with the queen and hadn’t been at the festivities when I’d been searching for the king.
The Summer Queen’s piercing eyes regarded me only a moment, assessing. Then they dismissed me as inconsequential.
“Go away,” she said to me, and I had the urge to do just that.
I dropped my gaze, unable to look at her face any longer. A small figure hovered behind her, near her shoulder. I hadn’t noticed her at first, but she was no doubt the same leaf-and-acorn-armored pixie who had so violently protested my entrance to the court. I guess I knew where she’d flown off to after kicking my nose. She’d fetched her queen.
“Husband, mine,” the queen said, pointedly ignoring me. “Are you aware that the Prince of Shadows and the Winter Knight are prowling around our court, upsetting our citizens? But of course you are. What strange alliances are you making? Is this girl the offering they brought you to tempt your lecherous appetites?” She gave me another unimpressed once-over.
“Uh. No,” I said, although I knew I should probably keep my mouth shut. I don’t follow my own advice often enough. The queen’s angry gaze slammed into me again, and I felt about as big as an ant. Rolling my shoulders back, I trudged on by saying, “Dugan and Falin are escorting me, yes, but because we need to talk to Lunabella. We negotiated entrance to your court for that purpose alone.” I almost added that I wanted nothing to do with her husband, but I didn’t understand their complicated relationship and didn’t want to make the situation worse.
A perplexed look crossed the queen’s beautiful face, as if she were shocked to learn that something she had found on the bottom of her shoe could speak. Then her golden brows knit together and a small arrow formed over her sharp nose.
“Lunabella is not here.”
“Come again?” I said, which caused her to give me an even more puzzled look. This time because of the slang. Damn it, it was hard to talk to people who were centuries old and didn’t have many concerns for the modern world. “Why isn’t Lunabella here? Where is she?”
“Not that I have to answer to you,” the queen said, staring down her nose at me. “But she left our court, so if you came here to speak to her, you are wasting everyone’s time.”
I had the distinct feeling that by “everyone,” she meant hers in particular.
I whirled to face the king. He was leaning back in his chair, hands tucked behind his head as if he was enjoying the show.
“She left your court?”
He shrugged. “Apparently.”
My mouth moved in several silent but unarticulated words ranging from unspoken curses to unfinished “whats” and “whens.” By the time I finally formed complete words it was to splutter, “You said if we came here we could question her.”
“Technically, you said you thought she was part of my court, and I promised you could speak to any of my fae. I never said you could speak to her in particular.”
I blinked, thinking back to how the conversation through the mirror had played out. He was right. I hated fae and their tendency to twist truths and words so deceitfully.
“So where did she go?”
“She left our court,” the queen said, still staring at me like she didn’t know what to make of me. Whatever conclusions she was reaching didn’t seem positive. “After that she was no concern of ours.”
Right. Of course. Great.
I wanted to scream, but I restrained myself. Throwing a tantrum in the middle of the summer court wouldn’t do me any good.
Giving a tight-lipped smile to the queen, I performed a brusque curtsy and said, “If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesties.” Then I stormed out of the flower tent without