by Melissa Marr
“Should we tell her?” Donia asked.
Niall didn’t need to ask for clarification. “I’m not sure. She’s grown closer and closer to—” He stopped and gave her a tender look.
“I know.”
Niall lit another cigarette. The cherry glowed a warm red in the almost lightless night. “If we do, it’ll complicate things. Ash will want to pursue him. Bananach tells me things are already poised for true violence.”
Donia tried to separate her own desire for Seth to return to Aislinn from her awareness that war could follow Aislinn’s knowing. The consequences of conflict with Sorcha were unfathomable. Then again, the consequences of Aislinn learning that the Winter Court and Dark Court both knew weren’t pretty either.
Or of learning that Keenan knows.
Niall sighed. “I don’t know. I’m going to see Sorcha. I’ll see how he fares, retrieve him if I need to. It’s probably past time to go visit Faerie anyhow….”
Donia crushed the snowy sculpture she’d been making and let the flakes drift to the ground where they melted immediately. “We aren’t her subjects.”
“Sorcha’s not like us, Donia. She’s without our possibilities for change. She’s the essence of Faerie.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. “If the stories are true, she’s the first of us. If she came here, we’d all be her subjects. If we went back to Faerie, we’d be her subjects. Showing her respect is the least we should do.”
“I’ve read her books, Niall. I’m not sure if we’d all be her subjects if we went there. Your court was her opposition.”
“Centuries ago, Don.” Niall’s shadow-maidens danced beside him in glee, belying the meekness of his words. They writhed in the bluish haze of Niall’s cigarette smoke. “Right now, your court is stronger. Mine isn’t able to oppose her.”
“I don’t know. Somehow, I suspect you’d fare better than you’re admitting.”
Niall’s lip curved into a smile, and despite their history of conflict—his working with Keenan and her working against their goals—she felt a loosening of the tension inside her. He seemed happy. Over centuries longer than she’d drawn breath, he’d been sorely abused by Keenan, by Irial, by Gabriel’s Hounds. It was soothing to see him lighter in heart for a change.
“You are kind,” he said. “If Sorcha spent much time here, it wouldn’t matter what we know now. She re-creates the world as easily as we breathe. Once, forever ago, I used to stay near her when Miach was my king, but after Keenan was born”—Niall shrugged as if it wasn’t a loss, although his near-reverent tone revealed the extent of what Sorcha’s presence had obviously once meant to him—“duty called. Miach’s court needed me. Tavish and I held what order we could until Keenan was old enough to escape Beira’s house. She let him have his visits to his father’s court, but…a court needs ruling. We did what we could.”
Donia was silent, thinking about the years Keenan spent in Beira’s home, about the court without a true king, about Niall trying to rule a court not his. That wasn’t something either of them needed to talk about just then. She redirected the conversation. “How long do you think Seth’s been there?”
“For him? A few days. Not long enough for Seth to panic, but…out here, it’s been weeks. I’ve arranged what I need here to go see him. I won’t have him injured if I can protect him.”
Donia nodded. “Bananach came to see me.” Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure she would tell him, but instinct was a critical part of ruling. Hers told her that Niall wasn’t a part of Bananach’s machinations.
“And?”
“She showed me the future.” Donia folded her arms over herself. “I thought we had a chance, but then this happened. She showed me…I am not unlike Beira.”
“It’s only a possible future,” he reminded her.
“If war is coming, I don’t want to be the cause of it,” she whispered. Being the Winter Queen didn’t mean that all of her doubts and worries had faded. If anything, it meant that the consequences of her doubts and worries could be catastrophic.
I am not Beira. I will not be the cause of a return to ugliness.
It was Niall’s voice that was ugly. “Why do you think I restrain myself against him? I have the power to strike him. You have the power to do so. Yet we don’t. I don’t want peace, but war is not what’s right for my court now. If it was…”
Donia shuddered at the cruelty in Niall’s voice then. “So why do you let Bananach run free?”
“I don’t. I try to keep her leashed enough to prevent all-out war. Why do you think Irial saddled me with…I’m trying to do the same thing you are: find a balance that doesn’t weaken my court. Unlike you, I want to strike him. I don’t forgive as you have, yet war is not what’s best for our courts.”
“So we don’t tell Ash about his suspecting—or possibly knowing—where Seth is.” Donia hated it, but the discord that would result from Aislinn knowing Keenan misled her would put all of them in an even more untenable position. And the anger Keenan would have for Donia or for Niall would be dangerous to the already tentative peace.
Niall nodded. “And you let him go.”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. Uttering those words hurt like a physical pain. To come so close to the love she’d dreamed of and lose it was worse than if she’d not known it was within her reach. “Given time, Ash will accept him. Given time and a few wise choices, perhaps we can still avoid war.”
“There was a time when this was what I planned and hoped for—Keenan with his missing queen, happy, strong. It was all that mattered.” Niall looked bereft. His shadow-maidens stroked his shoulders soothingly.
“Me too.” She thought—but didn’t say—that it was still what she wanted, not the being with Aislinn part, but his happiness. Even now. Despite everything, that’s what she wanted. She only wished that his happiness didn’t mean her sorrow.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Donia looked at him and said, “I would prefer that Bananach is contained, but if there is war, Winter will hold to the past.”
Niall was mortal-slow as he turned to look at her. “Meaning?”
“Meaning my court will ally with the Dark Court.” She stood, letting the snow she’d held in her lap fall to the ground, and waited for him to join her. “Whether it be against his court or the High Court. I want peace. I want…a lot of things, but in the end, I need to do what’s best for my court.”
“If I could let war reign just long enough to make him suffer”—Niall smiled, looking so deadly in that instant that it was hard to remember that he hadn’t always been the Dark King—“I would be sorely tempted, but fighting Sorcha…none of us wants that, Donia.”
“I’d rather fight Sorcha than Keenan.” She laid her hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Seth is an innocent. Would you let her harm Seth? If you had to side with Keenan to protect Seth, would you?”
“Yes, though I’d much rather fight against him.”
“But for Seth?”
“He is as my brother,” Niall said simply. “Sorcha will not keep him against his will.”
Donia felt herself swaying slightly. This much time in the heat was wearing on her. “You need to go to Faerie.”
“And if it’s not Sorcha we need to fight? Would you stand against Keenan?” he asked.
“Not happily, but I will if need be.” She held his gaze. “No matter which way we act, Seth’s being in Faerie complicates everything.”
“Which is precisely why Bananach took him there,” Niall murmured. Then, he took her arm and escorted her from the courtyard with a comfort that felt familiar. It wasn’t time to dwell on the past, on the losses that she should’ve accepted years past. It was time to prepare for the future—deadly though it might be.
Chapter 24
Aislinn stood nervously outside the door to the formal dining room. Lately she’d had dinner every night with Keenan. Some nights, other faeries joined them; sometimes, a number of the Summer Girls w
ere with them; but tonight, it would be just the two of them.
Choose to be happy. That’s what Siobhan had said, and Aislinn had been repeating it like a mantra since that night. For weeks, she’d been attempting just that: not giving up but trying not to wallow either. It wasn’t working.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Keenan was waiting—which wasn’t unusual. She knew he’d be there. What was unusual was the change in the room. Candles were lit everywhere. There were also tapers in the wall sconces and fat pillars on tall silver and bronze stands.
Aislinn crossed to the table and poured herself a glass of summer wine. The decanter was old, something she’d not seen before.
Keenan didn’t speak while she sipped her wine.
She looked not at him but at the candle flames flickering in the draft that came through the room. She didn’t want discord between them, especially not as he was her lifeline as of late, but she had to know how much Keenan had hidden from her. She asked the question she’d been pondering since Siobhan’s lecture: “Did you know Seth had a charm to protect him from faery glamour?”
“I’ve seen it.”
“You’ve seen it.” She let the words drag out, let the silence build, let him have the chance to say something to ease her hurt at not telling her this.
He didn’t apologize. Instead he said, “I expect Niall gave it to him.”
Her hands tightened on the wood of her chair until it started to splinter into her palms. “You didn’t mention it…because?”
“I had no desire to mention anything that could drive you further from me. You know that, Aislinn. I wanted you as my true queen. You felt it too.” Keenan came and stood beside her. He loosened her hands from the chair. “Will you forgive me? And him?…And yourself?”
Tears were streaming down her cheeks again. “I don’t really want to talk about any of this.”
And Keenan didn’t point out that she’d brought it up, or that not-talking wasn’t a solution, or any of the things he could’ve said. Instead, he said, “All I want in this moment is to help you smile.”
“I know.” Aislinn lifted a napkin from the table and studied the embroidered sunbursts that wound into vines.
“It’ll get easier,” he continued. He was like that since Seth left, constantly reassuring her.
She nodded. “I know, but right now it’s still awful. I feel like I’ve lost everything. Just like it was for you every time one of the Summer Girls refused the test…and when each Winter Girl risked the cold. Either way, each time they came to that point, you lost.”
Keenan’s expression was guarded then. “Until you.”
They stood there in awkward silence for several moments until Keenan sighed. “This conversation is not making you any happier, Aislinn.”
“It’s not the…romantic stuff that I miss…I mean, I do.” She paused, trying to figure out how to explain this to a faery who—for all his years—didn’t seem to have any true friends. “Seth was my best friend before he was anything else. He was the only one I could talk to when you and Donia were…when you picked me.”
Keenan waited.
“Best friends don’t leave without a word,” Aislinn said. Now that the words were there, they started bubbling out, and she was saying the things she’d been hiding inside. “I don’t need a boyfriend. I don’t need a mate or partner or any of that. I need my friends. Leslie’s gone. I can’t talk to my other friends about anything in my life. Donia stabbed me…not that we were close, but I thought we were becoming friends. And now, my best friend has left me.”
“And you feel alone.” Keenan came closer but didn’t intrude in her space. “So let me be your friend. That’s what you offered me when you became my queen. The approach of summer has added something else to it, but that’s…I need you to be happy, Aislinn.”
She nodded, and then she said the words that she wished she didn’t have to, “It’s been weeks without a word. I don’t think he’ll be back, but I can’t let go.”
“Let me be your friend, Aislinn. That’s all I’m suggesting today. If the rest happens or doesn’t, we can deal with that part later. No pressure, just an open door.” He held out his arms for an embrace. “For now, just let me be here for you. We need to try to move forward instead of standing here weeping and waiting.”
She let him hold her. Her sigh caught between pleasure and remorse as he stroked her hair, letting sunlight slide down the strands until she was languid, at peace as she rarely was these days.
“It’ll be okay. One way or another, things will be okay in the end,” he promised.
She wasn’t sure if he was speaking opinion or truth, but for now, she let herself believe him.
Happiness is a choice.
Chapter 25
Another month passed without word. Summer was in full strength. Graduation had come and gone, but Aislinn only knew this because her diploma was waiting at her house one afternoon.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Aislinn told Grams. “If you’d wanted…”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” Grams patted the sofa.
Aislinn went to her. It felt like each step was through too-thick air. “I’m trying. It feels like the sun is choking me some days. And Seth…I still don’t know.”
“It’ll get easier. Being this will get easier. I can’t say I understand, but”—Grams took Aislinn’s hand—“you are stronger than you know. Don’t forget that.”
Aislinn had her doubts. She felt like she was crawling out of her skin. The earth wasn’t merely stretching after its long slumber under Beira’s oppressive winter weight; it was trying to find outlets for decades of pent-up energy, and she was the conduit. Each dawn brought her closer to the other half of that heat—her king, her friend, her not-lover. She knew it wasn’t a logical thing, the way she tracked his movements. It wasn’t even a romantic thing. It was simple need. It embarrassed her. Lust was to be tied to love; with Seth, it had been. With him, she’d felt friendship, love, trust. With Keenan, she had friendship and a sort of trust, but there was no real love. There was something missing.
Grams sat silently beside her. The only sound was the steady tick of a cuckoo clock on the wall. It should be peaceful, but Aislinn still felt like running. Everywhere she went, she felt a pressure inside that she couldn’t escape.
Except with Keenan.
Then Grams broke the silence. “If Seth can’t handle what you are, that’s his loss.”
“I’m the one who’s lost,” Aislinn whispered. “Everything feels wrong without him here.”
“But?”
“He’s been gone for two months, and Keenan—”
“Is deceitful, Ash.” Grams kept most of the censure from her voice.
“Sometimes. Not always.”
“He’s a conniving bastard, but he’ll be in your life forever—” Grams sighed. “Just be sure you’re careful with how much you let him in. Or how fast. Don’t let this summer thing or your hurt make you foolish. Sex isn’t ever the same as love.”
“I’m not…” Aislinn looked away. “We haven’t. I’ve only…with Seth.”
“You wouldn’t be the first one who fell into a new bed out of loneliness or longing, sweetie. Just be sure you’re ready for the consequences if you do.” Grams stood then. “Let’s get some food in you. I can’t fix it all, but I still have comfort food.”
“And advice.”
Grams smiled and motioned toward the kitchen. “Fudge or ice cream?”
“Both.”
Later that night, while Aislinn was curled up beside Keenan watching a movie, she thought about what Grams had said. He wasn’t a bastard, not always, not to her. He was ruthless in pursuit of what he thought was best for his court, but he was also considerate and gentle. She’d seen him with the Summer Girls. He cared for them. He cared for the rowan, and not just as subjects, but also as individuals. He was impulsive and frivolous, the essence of summer.
He’s a good person, too. Maybe not a
lways, but for a faery king, he was remarkably good. For someone who’d struggled since birth just to get to where he should’ve always been, he was remarkably kind. And he’s here for me.
She leaned her head on him and tried to follow the movie. They’d been doing that a lot, just being near each other late at night. She couldn’t sleep, and unless she was at Grams’ apartment, Keenan was awake the moment she was. She wondered if he was awakened when she was at Grams’ too. She hadn’t asked. She just started spending more nights at the loft.
Grams didn’t comment. She could see the pacing energy that filled Aislinn as they moved toward Solstice, and Aislinn’s despair at Seth’s absence became too much. You need to be where you feel more at peace, sweetie, Grams had said, and that’s not here with me right now. Go to your court.
Being with Keenan was a weird mix of comfort and longing. He was true to his word in keeping a marked distance, treating her solicitously but not pressing her. The only times he was overtly affectionate were their late-night movies. They’d watched more than a dozen by now.
The movie that night wasn’t funny or action-filled but a romance of sorts: an indie film about street musicians falling in love while they both belonged elsewhere. The music and the message were perfect, poignant and heartbreaking. The combination spoke to her, reminded her not to cross lines that would do irreparable damage all around. Lust isn’t reason enough.
But as Keenan stroked her hair absently while they watched Once, it didn’t feel like lust was all they had.
Sometime during the movie, she must have drifted off to sleep because when she looked up the screen was black. She had shifted so she was lying with her head on a pillow in his lap, but Keenan was still running his hand over her hair as he had been when she’d been watching the movie.
