Fragile Eternity

“Evan is just doing his job.”

“And enjoying it, I’m sure.” Keenan was not very good at rejection of any sort; Aisli

She switched the topic. “It seems odd that she’d be upset over Niall now or over us asking about Bananach.”

“Exactly. Once Niall calms down, his holding the Dark Court can be an asset to both of our courts. She’s—”

“No. I mean, she seemed calm enough when we left the other day. Not happy but not truly angry.” Aisli

“Am I missing something?” she asked.

Keenan watched her with a pensive expression. “You know, Niall was like that. He helped me focus, went straight to the point….” His words drifted away as tiny clouds shifted in his eyes, a promise of rain as yet unfulfilled.

“You miss him.”

“I do. I’m sure he’s a great king…. I just wish it wasn’t of such a vile court. I handled things poorly,” he said.

“We both messed up there. I ignored things that I should’ve reacted to, and you—” Aisli

Leslie’s being caught in the heart of the Dark Court was Aisli

And stop them if they’re awful.

“And they made bad choices. We aren’t the ones responsible for that.” Keenan couldn’t have said it if it was a lie, but it was an opinion. Opinions were shaky territory with the faeries-don’t-lie rule.

“We aren’t absolved either. You kept things from me…and they paid the consequences.” She had not entirely forgiven him for his using Leslie or Niall, but unlike Donia, Aisli

Eternity with Keenan. The thought terrified her still. He wasn’t particularly inclined toward an equal ruling status, and she wasn’t experienced at dealing with faeries. Prior to her transformation into a faery monarch, her primary method of “dealing” was avoidance. Now, she had to rule them. He had nine centuries ruling without his full power. It was hard to say that she should have an equal voice, but the alternative—responsibility for the consequences but not involvement in the decisions—wasn’t a solution.

And since she’d become their queen, the summer faeries had become important to her. Their welfare mattered; their happiness and safety were essential. It was as instinctual as the need to help Summer grow to strength, but that didn’t mean everyone else should be sacrificed for the progress of Summer. Keenan didn’t get that.

She shook her head. “We’re not going to agree on this, Keenan.”

“Maybe”—Keenan looked at her with such open affection that she could feel the sunbeams under her skin responding—“but at least you aren’t refusing to speak to me.”

Aisli

“You have a choice. You are just…”

“What?”

“More reasonable.” He didn’t hide the smile that came as soon as he said it.

The tension that had been growing inside of her dissipated at his easy smile. She laughed. “I’ve never been as unreasonable as I’ve been the past few months. The way I’ve changed…My teachers have commented. My friends, Grams, even Seth…My mood swings are awful.”

“Compared to me, you’re quite unflappable.” His eyes were sparkling: he knew how volatile she’d become. He’d been the target of her temper more than anyone else.

“I’m not sure it counts as being reasonable if you’re the measuring stick.” She relaxed again. During all the weirdness over the past few months, he’d found ways to make her lighten up. It was a big part of what had made it bearable to be the Summer Queen. His friendship and Seth’s love were her mainstays.

Keenan’s smile was still there, but the plea in his eyes was serious as he asked, “Maybe you could talk to Don? Maybe explain to her that I miss her. Maybe you could tell her that I am sad when I can’t see her. Tell her that I need her.”

“Shouldn’t you tell her?”

“How? She won’t even let me in the door.” He frowned. “I need her in my life. Without her…and without you being—I’m not good at things. I try, but I need her to believe in me. To not have either of—”

“Don’t.” Aisli

“I can try, but if she’s upset with you, she might not be willing to talk to me either. Lately, she’s bailed every time I’ve tried to make plans with her,” Aisli

Keenan poured them both glasses of water while he talked. “It’s because Summer is growing stronger, and Winter is weakening. Beira got surly every spring—and that was when I was still weak.”

Keenan held out a glass to her—and she froze.

It’s just water. And even if it were summer wine, it wouldn’t affect her like it had the first time. She pushed away the thoughts.

“Ash?”

She started, caught off guard by his uncommon usage of her shortened name. She pulled her attention from the glass and glanced at him. “Yeah?”

He ran a thumb over the outside of the glass as he held it up higher. The liquid was crystal clear. “It’s safe. My intentions are not to harm you. Ever. Even before, I didn’t wish you harm.”

She blushed and took the glass. “Sorry. I know that. Really.”

He shrugged, but he was so easily hurt by her moments of panic. She suspected he felt them sometimes, as if their sharing the court was creating a bond neither of them was prepared for. No one else in the court could see through the facades she erected—only Keenan.

Friends. We are friends. Not enemies. Or anything else.

“I’ll talk to Don,” she told him. “No promises. I’ll try, though. Maybe it’ll even be good for us…. She’s been so short-tempered with me the past few weeks. If it’s just a spring thing, maybe it’ll be good to talk.”

He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You are good to tolerate the positions I put you in. I know that this is not yet easy for you.”

She didn’t let go of his hand, holding on to him with the strength she had gained when her mortality was replaced by this otherness. “I’ll only tolerate so much. If you keep another secret like you did with Leslie”—she let the sunlight that lived in her skin slip out, not a loss of temper but a show of her growing control over the element they shared—“it would be unwise, Keenan. Donia was what made freeing Leslie possible. You failed me. I don’t want that to happen again.”