“I-what?” I froze for a moment. “Then who?”

“A woman, your majesty. A woman with graying hair that she wears in a long braid.”

I stared at him for several seconds, and then I laughed. This seemed to scare them all more than if I had burst into a rage.

“Abigail,” I said at last, more to myself than them.

“Your majesty?”

I waved a hand at them. “Never mind.”

Abigail. Fucking Abigail and Art. Working together to…what? Abduct gentry girls? But why? I’d toyed with the idea of Art as some kind of sick rapist, but where did Abigail fit in with this? Surely that would hold no interest for her. With a sigh, I pushed the questions to a small box in my mind, needing to wrap this up and get back to the human world. I needed to have that talk with Roland.

“Anything else going on I need to know about? You’ve got copper nearby, right?” Finding water and food was naturally essential, but it was copper that was going to truly change things in the Thorn Land. It was what all our trade agreements were being based on. “How’s the extraction going?”

“Slowly until today, your majesty,” the woman admitted. “Our magic users are skilled in many things, but we have few who can work with metal. Much of our labor has been manual.”

I frowned. “Why did things change today?”

“Why,” she said in surprise, “because you sent the Oak King to us.”

“The Oak-wait. You mean Dorian?” I exclaimed. “He’s not here now, is he?”

They were all clearly surprised at my surprise. “Yes, your majesty,” said the guy who’d spoken earlier. “He’s out with the workers now. I thought you knew.”

I stood up, still full of shock. “I have to see him. Excuse me.”

They all murmured polite farewells and nearly knocked each other over with bows. I didn’t stick around to return the formality. Instead, I headed back out into the bright afternoon sun, lightly jogging to where I’d seen the workers on the far side of the village. At first, I saw no indication of Dorian. Men and a few women were digging diligently, sweat rolling down their faces.

Then, suddenly, I heard a slight rumbling, and the ground trembled. Huge chunks of rock rose from the earth, a few of them glinting in the sunlight. They lifted in a cluster and then slowly drifted off to the side of the work site, gently coming to rest on a pile of similar stones. Turning, I looked to the opposite side of the area and finally found Dorian, his hands moving in the air as he guided the ore. His clothes were simple today, but that hair burned and rippled in the sunshine like liquid fire.

His face was filled with concentration as he watched the rocks, but once they’d come to a halt, he broke into a smile as he strode forward. “My lady Thorn Queen, what a delight.”

I let him kiss my hand for the sake of appearances-seriously, why were the gentry so into that?-and then pulled him out of earshot of the others. “What the hell are you doing here?” I exclaimed.

“Why, retrieving my copper.”

“That’s not what I mean!” He shrugged and wiped sweat off his brow. His devil-may-care expression aside, it was clear he was tired. I grabbed hold of his arm and led him back toward the town. “Come on, get something to drink before you get dehydrated. And start explaining.”

“I heard there was some difficulty with your copper, and I decided to come help, seeing as it benefits me too. My sword is in need of replacement, you know-and that’s not a metaphor. The metaphorical one is just fine. Besides, you don’t honestly think I can let you take all the glory as being the most helpful monarch around, do you? You’re making us all look bad.”

“Dorian,” I groaned. Because there was really no other response.

If people had fallen all over me when I arrived, the two of us together created quite the stir. Again, I was reminded of some celebrity tabloid couple. We returned to the council hall, at which point I used my queenly authority to get some privacy and some refreshment. It was a bit startling to see how quickly my orders were obeyed.

Once we were alone and Dorian was sprawled in a chair, I truly got a good look at just how exhausted he was. “How long have you been out there doing this?” I asked, pouring him water from a pitcher.

“Most of the day. And I’ll take the wine, my dear.” He nodded toward a nearby decanter.

“It’ll dehydrate you further,” I scolded, handing him the cup of water. He scowled but drank it down eagerly. I watched him, still perplexed. “But why? You don’t need the copper that badly.”

“Perhaps not. But you do.” He finished the water, and I gave him a refill. “Thank you. Waited on by a queen-truly the dream of many a man.”

I pulled over a chair of my own. “You didn’t need to do it,” I protested. “You’ve practically killed yourself.”

“Hardly. Give me and my stamina some credit.”

“I still don’t get it.”

He finished this cup too and then gave me a look that was both exasperated and amused. “Eugenie, why do you keep having such a hard time believing I’d do things for you?”

There was earnestness in his voice, and I realized we kept having this conversation over and over. Out of everyone in my life lately, it seemed like he was the only reliable one. “I don’t know why. I’m sorry. I just run into few people who give something for nothing. Mining isn’t going to get me into your bed.”

“Well,” he said cheerfully, “nobody knows that for sure, but even if not? It doesn’t matter. You need it. It makes you happy. End of story.”

I looked away. Dorian truly was my friend. “Thank you. It does make me happy. One less thing in a sea of problems today.”

He handed me the cup. “Get me wine this time, and tell me what your problems are. You can even sit on my lap.”

“No thanks,” I said, but I did get him the wine.

“I saw you and the kitsune pass earlier, actually. Is that part of your problem?” He answered his own question. “Yes, yes. Of course it is.”

I was a bit surprised to hear myself pouring my thoughts out to him again. I didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk this time. “I saw the baby today.”

“Cute?”

“Very. And it just made me feel…I don’t know. Kiyo thinks it’s jealousy, but it’s more than that. I just can’t explain it.”

“Kind of a questioning of your own life and the choices-or lack thereof-before you?”

I looked up, startled, and met his eyes. They were unusually serious. “Yes, exactly.” Dorian remained silent, and I found myself rambling more. “He’s having a hard time getting all of it lately-the magic, the girls, the demons…he doesn’t like me spending time over here. Neither does Roland.” I couldn’t help a smile. “Hell, neither do I. But…I have to. I have to put things right around here.”

“I know you do,” he said, face serious.

“Dorian…what would happen if I got a crown?”

This made him a smile a little. “It would make you look even more beautiful.”

“No, I’m serious. Kiyo says it’s a bad idea. That it would make all this real.”

“It’s already about as real as it’s going to get, my dear.”

“That’s what I told him! But I don’t get the big deal. You never wear a crown.”

“Not often. But I have one, and I was crowned and all my people swore fealty to me. That’s what a crown would lead to. You want one for ornamentation? Sure, that’s easy. But put one on and walk out among your people-especially in a city like Highmore-and say, ‘This is who I am, I am your queen…’ Well, that’s what the kitsune fears. You’re already queen. No crown can affect that. But you accepting one and declaring your authority is when you truly believe you’re a queen. And as far as Kiyo is concerned, that’s where the danger is.”

“Wow,” I said, nearly as surprised to have such a thorough explanation from him as I was by the content itself. “Are you afraid of it?”

He snorted. “Hardly. I don’t need a crown to know you’re a queen. It radiates off of you. But I would like for you to know you’re a queen.”