They walked in silence, and I decided against trying to pester them into talking. Given the fact that Susan had mentioned the fae using humans as servants, I suspected it rankled that I was being accorded status as royalty, even if I was magically intended for kicking Dain's ass. Probably it was more of a black mark against him than me that he had a human soulmate, but I doubted they enjoyed escorting me to their Queen.

The palace itself was lovely, all of it elegant and clean, without the frou-frou-ness I associated with palaces in the human world. There was definitely complex decoration, usually in the form of inlaid stone or wood, but not a whole lot of gaudy gold curlicues or carved furniture on spindly legs that wasn't really suited for anything but looking at. I tried to focus on memorizing everything around me to keep from freaking out about where I was going, and did a pretty good job of it, all things told. We didn't have to go very far, either, which helped.

At a pair of open double doors they stopped and took stances on either side, falling into their positions with liquid grace and in total synchrony. The movement looked eerie and inhuman, the way CGI sometimes looks when they go for hardcore realism without using motion capture.

One of the guards already standing there scanned me from head to toe, then stepped in front of the door. He had flaming red hair in a long tumble down his back, and freckles like constellations across his skin. In a calm voice, he announced, "The Petitioner has arrived, your majesty."

From within, a silken voice replied, "Let her in, and bar the way. I don't want to be disturbed."

The fae bowed low, then pivoted and took his place again, not even looking at me. He stood as still as a statue, as if he'd been carved out of marble and placed by the side of the door, like one of those protective lions they have outside museums. It didn't even look like he was breathing, a formal sort of motionlessness that made the hair on my arms stand up.

I tried not to let it phase me and stepped between the four guards and into the room, the wooden floor smooth and cool under my bare feet.

Inside sat four women. Two were engrossed in a game that looked related to Go, placing small multi-colored stones on a gridded shape inscribed on a table. They looked like a painting, something you might find in a museum, the densely patterned cloth of their dresses so vibrant and detailed that it looked unreal. One played something that looked like a lap harp, the sort of smooth classical music that makes for calming background sounds, her clothing simple and in quiet colors that blended with the teal-and-sand color scheme of the elegant room.