The corridor was lined with tapestries depicting Qoksmere’s founding in gold and crimson. Pip lifted one, studying the back.
“Don’t touch it. Priceless. Ancient.”
“Sorry.” His squeak made me feel guilty. “It looks hand-stitched. Did you know that?”
“Of course. How else would you stitch one?”
He said something about a place called China and machinery, but it made no sense.
Two guards flanked the door, and when they spotted Pip, they moved forward as if to block him.
“The Queen is expecting us. I come with an… update on the disturbance in Clovermere.”
“Is the sparkly one dangerous?” one asked.
“That is for me to decide.” I gave them a stare that had ended careers. They opened the doors.
The Queen’s public sitting room was intimate by palace standards. It was a high-ceilinged chamber with tall windows, warm with firelight and the scent of dried lavender. It was where Queen Delsynarea received guests she was interested in conversing with.
I wasn’t sure Pip qualified.
Queen Delsynarea was arranged on a chaise of silver-threaded cloth, her auburn hair braided with fine gold chain, her amber eyes bright with curiosity. She wore deep crimson and dark gold, and the jewels at her throat pulsed faintly—fire opals, warm with her magic. I had served under her for centuries and knew the danger that hid beneath her devastating beauty.
Her secretary, a pale man named Lord Frost, stood at her right elbow, immaculate in blue linen, his ice-white hair perfectly arranged, his posture impeccable.
Two ladies-in-waiting sat on a settee, while maids moved between rooms with tea and cakes, pointedly not staring.
The Queen studied us for a long moment and inclined her head a fraction of a degree.
“Commander,” she said. “Present us with your charge.”
I straightened to full attention. “Your Resplendent Majesty, Queen Delsynarea of the Eternal Throne, Sovereign of Feravael, Warden of the Seven Counties, Keeper of the Great Peace, may I present Mr. Pippin Crane. The disturbance.”
“We do wonder what kind of creature he might be.”
“He appears human, but he is... something called a twink. I believe that explains his manner of dress. He was foundin Clovermere County, but is from parts unknown. Perhaps another continent on the far side of the world?”
“A twink,” the Queen said, testing the word. “We have not encountered this creature before. Is it magical?”
Pip winked at the Queen of Feravael. “Only in bed, Your Majesty.”
Delsynarea gave a polite cough that I would have suspected was hiding a laugh if the Queen was the sort of person who laughed. “And where are you from?”
“San Jose, which is in California. Well, technically I’m from Kansas, but we don’t talk about Kansas. Anyway, I haven’t been to the far side of the world, but I know enough to know that this isn’t it.”
“Fascinating. And what are a twink’s powers?”
Pip blinked. “Beauty? A cute ass?”
“Do not wiggle your ass.” My command came too late. The ass was already shaking.
“It is nice to meet you, my lady. Your royalness? And to be clear, because I think we may have gotten off track somewhere, I’m human. The twink thing is just a… sub-category.”
“Like wizards?” The Queen frowned. “We are quite intrigued. You may step forward. We must examine the disturbance.”
Pip beamed and bounced forward, sticking out his hand, inches from the Queen’s face. A guard lunged to protect her, only to freeze under her glare.
“It’s a handshake. Is that not a greeting here?”
