Joaquin shuffled after Geoffroi in the Willow Palace. Sunrays broke through the roof woven from tree branches.

"Stop."

A calm voice halted the intruders in their tracks. They looked up. The Queen of the Forest was sitting on a round root, her ebony hair draping down her shoulders, floating weightless, as if underwater. Birds, butterflies, bees, and beetles rested on her linen cloak. Delicate golden flowers were woven into her hair. Apart from the diadem, they were the only sign of the power she was supposed to hold.

Geoffroi looked at Joaquin, who nodded.

"Queen of the Forest, we ask you kindly to let us hunt."

The Queen just shook her head.

The men looked at each other. Then Joaquin’s hand shot into his bag, grabbing his knife, running toward the Queen. She did not move, merely kept stroking the bird on her shoulder.

The metal flowers rose from the Queen’s hair. For a split second, they just hovered above her. Geoffroi could make out tiny bees and wasps holding up the sharp metal jewelry. Then, they shot towards Joaquin.

A sharp sound ripped through the air. Then—splashing. Warm droplets splattered on Geoffroi. There was a metallic taste on his lips.

When Geoffroi opened his eyes again, the golden flowers had returned to the Queen, now risen from blood. The Queen let the bees land on her hand and wiped away the red stains.

Geoffroi looked at Joaquin. He lay on the floor, his body riddled with holes.

Then he ran.