Fragile Eternity

He seemed nervous. “No questions yet.”

“Okay.” She got in and watched the sky brighten as he drove them out of town toward farmlands she’d been to on rare school field trips and even rarer photo excursions, when Grams could be convinced that she would follow the rules about the faeries. Back then, trips to dangerous expanses of iron-free nature were exceedingly rare. Now, it was safe. The crowds of faeries in the fields and among the trees weren’t a danger to her.

Keenan pulled into a gravel lot. A battered wooden sign, hand-painted and fading, proclaimed peg & john’s orchard. On the other side of the vast and mostly empty parking lot stretched apple trees in long rows. As Aisli

She’d never seen so many healthy trees. Even from this distance, she could see the ripening apples that clung to their strong branches.

When she got out of the car, he was already at her door.

“This is it, the orchard where…” She wasn’t sure she wanted to finish that sentence.

Keenan didn’t hesitate to say the words, to put the weight of it out there in front of her. “I brought one other person here, but”—he took her hands in his—“you’re the only one who’s ever come knowing what it means to me. I thought we could have breakfast here.”

“Can we walk first? So I can see it.” She felt shy. It wasn’t a casual thing he was offering her—not that anything between them had ever been casual. This was his private space, though; bringing her here was a gift.

He let go of her hands and got a cooler out of the car. After taking her hand again, he led her across the uneven lot. The crunch of gravel under her feet seemed loud in the empty air between them.

At the edge of the lot was a patch of grass. A dark-haired girl wearing sunglasses sat on a chair behind a table covered in baskets. An old cash register sat on the table. She looked at Keenan suspiciously. “You’re not usually back so soon.”

“My friend needed to come somewhere special,” he said.

The girl rolled her eyes, but she motioned at the baskets. “Go on.”

Keenan gave her a blinding smile, but her dismissive look didn’t alter. Aisli

Aisli

“Come on.” He led her under fruit-heavy branches, away from the world. All I need is a red cape. She felt childhood panics rise up for a moment: venturing into the woods where faeries lurked was never safe. Grams had taught her that. Little Red had found danger because she went away from the safety of steel. He’s my friend. Aisli

Casually, as if it wasn’t unusual, she took his hand again.

He said nothing. Neither did she. They walked hand in hand, wandering among trees he’d nurtured even when Winter held dominion over the earth.

Finally, they stopped in a small clearing. He set the cooler down and released her hand. “Here.”

“Okay.” She sat in the grass under a tree and looked at him.

He sat beside her, near enough that it felt u

“This was my haven for years when I needed a place that was just mine.” He looked lost then; clouds flickered in his eyes. “I remember when they were saplings. The mortals were so determined to make them thrive.”

“So you helped.”

He nodded. “Sometimes, things just need a little attention and time to grow.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “I was thinking last night. About things. About what you said before…when I kissed you.”

She tensed.

“You said you wanted complete honesty. If we’re to be true friends, that’s what we must do.” He ran his fingers through the grass between them. Tiny wild violets sprouted. “So here we are. Ask me anything.”

“Anything?” She plucked at the grass beside her, enjoying the strength of it. The soil was healthy; the plants were strong. She could feel the web of tree roots under them. She thought about it, what he was offering. There weren’t many things she could think to ask, except…“Tell me about Moira. You and Grams are the only ones I can ask.”

“She was beautiful, and she didn’t like me. Many of the others…Almost all of them”—he gri

“But?”

“I had to become what they wanted to help them love me. Sometimes that meant adopting the fashion of the day, their newest dances, poets, origami…finding out what they liked and learning about it.”

“Why not be yourself?”

“Sometimes I tried. With Don—” He stopped himself. “She was different, but we were talking about your mother. Moira was clever. I know now that she knew what I was, but at the time I didn’t.”

“Did you…I mean…I know you seduced…I mean, it’s…” She blushed brighter than the apples above them. Asking her friend, her king, her maybe-something-more if he’d slept with her mother was weird by any standard.

“No. I never slept with any of the Summer Girls when they were mortal.” He looked away, obviously as uncomfortable with the topic as she was. “I’ve never slept with a mortal. I kissed some of them—but not her, not Moira. She treated me with contempt almost from the begi

“Oh.”

“She was sort of like you, Aisli

“And what? Waited?”

“I couldn’t un-choose someone once she was chosen.” Keenan looked sad. “I knew she was special. Just like you. When I realized that you were the one, I wondered if she would’ve been my queen if…”

“I’ve wondered too.” She realized they were whispering even though the faeries that she’d seen in the orchard weren’t anywhere near. “Or if I’m this because she was changing when she had me.”

“If I’d have done things differently—brought her back—how many things would’ve been different? If I’d known she was pregnant, you would’ve been raised by the court. You wouldn’t have resisted if you’d grown up with us. You wouldn’t have been so involved with mortals.”

She knew exactly what mortal involvement he was thinking of, but she couldn’t consider even for a heartbeat that her life would’ve been better without her mortal life. Loving Seth was the most perfect thing she’d known, and his love would be the only true love she’d ever know. That wasn’t something to wish away, even now when her heart ached. Of course, saying all of that to the faery she was tied to for eternity wasn’t something either of them needed.

“I’m glad you didn’t know,” she said.

“That year while Moira was away, pregnant with you, I spent all the free time I suddenly had trying to convince Don to forgive me.” He looked wistful. “Some nights she would deign to sit with me. We went to a revel together…and…”

“Does it get easier?”

He glanced at her. “Does what get easier?”

“Losing someone you love.”

“No.” He looked away. “I kept thinking one of her rejections would be the one that stopped hurting, but it was when she didn’t reject me that it hurt worse. I thought that we had a few years, but now…He’s gone, Ash, and I can’t not be around you. You’re my queen. I can’t not be drawn to you. If I could set you free somehow and make Donia my queen, I would, but I can’t. And if there’s a chance that you and I might become more, I will be here with you.”