“I had a weapon with me, but--- I lost it." For the briefest of moments, she looked confused. I cannot say for certain--- my memory of these moments is poor, and also, I have never been skilled at reading others. But I am, of course, an expert in the ways of the Folk. And whatever else she might be, the woman before me was inarguably Folk. "What was it?" she said. "A horn," I replied. "The horn of a faun." She did not move, though something in her face relaxed. "That would have been a fearsome weapon indeed, for one brave enough to wield it. Pity." I nodded. "Fortunately, I had made a little powder from the tip, which I had in my pocket before you came in." It was not my imagination--- the queen was visibly tired, exhausted even. It had come on quickly. She seemed to make an effort to focus on me. And then I saw the moment she understood. Her hand clenched around the fine tablecloth. "You---" "Yes," I said. "I put it in the wine. At least, I'm fairly certain I did--- you'll have to excuse me, but Faerie does not agree with my memory. Of course, I did not know you would come here to taunt me--- but I thought it a possibility. I suppose you were right: the capacity for forethought is an advantage we mortals have over the Folk.” HeroineTrickedPoisonedStepmotherClever GirlForethinking Book:Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands Source: Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands