Octavia stifles a smile. “I wish I could do that trick.” She gestures across the tournament grounds to where Lincoln must be stalking around. “My son doesn’t look at you at all.”

I make a point of not gazing in the direction of her point. “That’s fine with me.”

“I see.” She sips her wine, watching me closely. “Are you enjoying the tournament?”

“Honestly, no. I knew the ghoul who fought the Earl of Acca. Killing him was not—” I clear my throat. “He wasn’t a worthy opponent, that’s all.”

A smile curls the queen’s lips. “Spoken as a true thrax.”

My back teeth lock with anger. “I’m a quasi-demon…As the Earl of Acca was quick to point out.” And your son, too, although I won’t say that to your face.

“I know. I’ve seen your tail.” I glance at her mismatched eyes. Behind them, mental gears whirl and spin even faster. I have the weird feeling she knows exactly what I was thinking about Lincoln.

I sigh. It’s bad enough sitting through another of these boring tournaments, let alone making small talk with Lincoln’s calculating and somewhat creepy Mom. I fidget in my chair and watch the gate swing open on the tournament green. An Arachnoid demon crawls out onto the field of battle. Arachnoids are ten-foot tall daddy-long-leg spiders with extra armor and a bad attitude. They have tiny bodies, thread-thin legs, and giant pincer mouths with a poisonous bite. Across the green, the Earl of Kamal marches onto the field, a tiger by his side.

I shake my head. “He should’ve brought a falcon.”

Octavia sips her wine. “And why’s that?”

“The tiger can fight the Arachnoid’s legs all day; it won’t make a dent. They have light armor that’s good as dragon scales. But the demon’s body is pretty unprotected, especially from the top. A bird could go after it pretty easily.”

In the edges of my vision, I see my tail straighten Octavia’s crown. That thing so needs a leash. Frowning, I give it a smack.

Octavia arches her eyebrow. “I was about to thank you for doing that.”

“It wasn’t me. My tail has a mind of its own sometimes.”

Her lips purse. “Interesting.” She eyes me from head to toe. Suddenly, I understand how animals feel in the zoo.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why’d you invite me here, Octavia?”

She chuckles. “I wondered if you’d ask the obvious question. Would you believe me if I said it’s a matter of quasi-thrax diplomacy?”

“No.”

“That’s wise.” She sips her wine, examining my face, and then sets the goblet down. “I brought you here because I think my son finds you interesting.”

My eyes almost pop out of my head. I look behind me. Someone else must have snuck into the pavilion. “Me?” I tap my ribcage.

She nods.