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seems most sensible,” Her Majesty replied. “I had not thought of it that way.” She returned her attention to Achoo. She’d not stopped stroking Pounce, either. “I’ve only met the scent hounds we use to hunt. How does one partner a Provost’s Guard?” she asked.

    I hoped she knew the answer when she felt better, since the purpose of a Provost’s scent hound seemed obvious to me. Seemingly she wasn’t thinking straight just now. Her eyes were far too wide, as if she’d seen things, unbearable things. Remembering the bodies in the garden, I doubted that our pretty queen had ever encountered anything of the like. “When someone is missing, or something’s been stolen, we give Achoo a scent of it,” I explained. “Then she goes off and finds it. I run with her to keep her on the scent and to summon help, should she need it. Tunstall guards us.”

    The queen leaned forward and gripped my arm hard. There was more strength, or desperation, in her fingers than I expected. “It’s true, then? You are the ones who must find my son?”

    I sat back on my heels, trying not to let my shock show itself on my face. Tunstall looked down. Master Farmer turned away entirely. Now we knew why my lord had fetched us. In all this mess, His Highness Prince Gareth, the sole heir to the throne, was missing.

    I collected myself. “Your Majesty, we’ve yet to hear our orders. It would help if you were to tell us what happened here. We only came a short time ago, and we’ve been told nothing. When did all this happen?” I emboldened myself and took her hand as if she were one of my sisters. “It looks fresh—the marks of burning, and the dead.”

    She looked at the men. “Please take your seats. If you find my baby, you may ask anything you wish of me, so please, sit.” She smiled at me. “These two animals, they’re proof you have a tender heart. My little prince, cruel strangers have him.… ” Tears spilled down her face.

    I always carry a score of cheap handkerchiefs on my person, in my breech pockets and a pocket I’ve stitched inside the front of my tunic. I fished one of them out now. I was shamed by its rough quality, but I saw no handkerchiefs on her person. She would not leave off scratching Pounce, so I dabbed the tears and not a little soot from her lovely cheeks.

    “Oh—oh, Goddess, I’m being so foolish,” she whispered, and took the handkerchief from me. Pounce glared at me. She dried her eyes and wiped her nose, then tucked the cloth behind Pounce and began to stroke him again. The two coves, watching her graceful hand caress the cat’s gleaming fur, sighed. Now it was my turn to glare at them, beauty-dazed cracknobs that they were.

    “My lord the governor of Blue Harbor invited His Majesty and me to a party in our honor yesterday,” Queen Jessamine began. “It started around noon. There were nobles from Blue Harbor, the fiefs around Port Caynn, even Arenaver. It was the usual welcome to us that they give every year when we return to the Summer Palace. Roger—His Majesty had a wonderful time. I did, too, of course,” she hurried to say, which led me to think that the king liked big parties more than did the queen. “But I was a little unwell. His Majesty was good enough to return home with me at midnight.”

    “Who went with you to this party, Your Majesty?” I asked quietly.

    “My maids. Our personal mages. Half of the King’s Own,” she replied. “The other half always stays—” She choked at that point and seized the handkerchief, weeping into it.

    I straightened, looking around for a pitcher of water or tea, something to give her to drink. Master Farmer fumbled at his belt and unhooked a flask, then handed it to me. “I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, and left us. I uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents. It was wine. I hesitated, but reminded myself again that Lord Gershom must have trusted the cove entirely, to bring him when things were dire.

    “Have a