For the sake of not going insane with the monotony of waiting, I attended all of the events that I'd once attended with Dain at my side. I sat next to his empty throne during open court and listened carefully to cases, giving my opinions when the Queen asked for them and discussing cases afterwards with courtiers, and even with the Queen herself. I went to banquets and made quiet conversation with fae, and even ate a few bugs for the sake of politeness and making friends. I danced at revels and made small talk with courtiers and the rare human in attendance, most of whom had been worried about approaching me with Dain watching me from his throne.

It made me feel useful—like I was making friends for us, for when he returned. I even had a couple non-hateful conversations with the Queen, mostly composed of casual chit-chat. It was like Dain was out of sight, out of mind.

I asked her once if she was worried about having him on a diplomatic mission, and she laughed, her usual glittering laughter. "Dear girl," the Queen had said. "If it is to be war, what better place for him? And if it is to be peace..." Then she had merely shaken her head and smiled, as if amused at the very thought, then turned to a courtier and answered a different question, instead.

The answer troubled me, and I couldn't quite pin down why. Most people assumed that it would be war with the Court of Mercy; there wasn't a lot of trust in Dain's ability to smooth things over without a significant amount of slaughter. So it wasn't so much the what of what the Queen had said. But it felt like the way she'd said it wasn't quite right, as if she knew more than she was letting on, and that whatever came after that troubling ellipsis was far more dangerous than war.

I gnawed on the problem for a while, and finally brought it up with Alluin and Zhiolas on one of my weekly trips down to the garrison.

Alluin made a low sound and settled his elbows onto the table. "I would be shocked if she didn't know more than she was saying," he said, his dark eyes serious. His mouth twisted, and he looked away, out through the window over the dark landscape. "Ask yourself: how did assassins get into the gardens of the Antlered Palace? Surely no one climbed over the walls, and there is no direct connection between the open forest and the gardens. They either walked through the palace, or they were let in through a gate."

I blanched. I hadn't known that. "I thought she couldn't directly hurt him."

"She can't," he said with a shrug. "But she could do things to make it easier for someone else to do it, without directly harming him."

"Giving me a knife," I said glumly.

"Exactly."