With each new accusation, Aurora felt the treaty unravel further. It was only a matter of time before something truly terrible happened—before blood was shed and the humans and Fair Folk returned to being at war, with her unable to halt it.

Finally, Lord Ortolan gave her one piece of good news. Maleficent’s black rose hedges had stopped growing, although they showed no signs of receding. “And they give off a distinct scent. It has been described as musky and not unlike the scent of spoiled plums, with a heady sweetness. Is it dangerous?”

“Let us hope not,” Aurora said with a sigh. After the conversation about the brigands, she couldn’t help feeling that perhaps Maleficent had had a point about the safety of Perceforest’s borders. “Tell me, is there anything we can do to lessen people’s fear of faeries?”

Lord Ortolan’s eyebrows rose. “I understand that you’ve grown used to them, but they are not like us. They’re not human. They’re immortal, with powers we don’t understand.”

Aurora nodded, not in agreement, but with the understanding that he had no interest in helping. “I think a new approach to the treaty must be taken. I wish to hear from my subjects on their concerns—and superstitions—about the Moors.”

Lord Ortolan looked alarmed. “Your Majesty, begging your pardon, such a thing could take many, many days to arrange. Your court, of course, comprises many persons from influential noble houses already who have weighed in on the treaty negotiations, and we have sent drafts to those who have the largest estates and the most riches. But for this, they would have to travel here. And we would have to prepare for their arrival—” He stopped at her expression.

Aurora had had enough. “I have spent enough time in consultation with the nobles,” she said. “Now I want to hear from the rest of my people.”

“Your kingdom is very large, Your Majesty,” Lord Ortolan began.

“Let us start here, then,” she said, “close to the castle. I wish to speak with farmers and tradespeople. This afternoon.”

“This afternoon?” Lord Ortolan repeated faintly.

Aurora smiled at him. “I will have town criers sent out immediately to invite people to the castle. And I will go tell the cooks we will need much in the way of refreshment. Perhaps you can send someone to gather up some of those new black roses? They will make marvelous decorations.”

Aurora paused. “But I need to talk to more than just the humans. I will send a message to the Moors that I want to talk to the faeries this evening. I am sure they have fears and superstitions, too.”

With that, she left him looking as though he itched to overrule her, perhaps even scold her. But he couldn’t, and they both knew it.