Darkest Mercy (19 page)

“I am sorry you are hurting. I hadn’t ever thought that . . .

you would be so . . .” Keenan wasn’t sure of a polite word.

Callous? Cruel? Broken?

Niall sat silently for several moments. Finally, he stood and stepped around Keenan. “Go tell your queen my plan.

I’ll not injure my pet, and she

can have her visits, but he belongs to my court now. Her ability to see him is at my discretion, and my discretion requires her court’s support in a

task. I want Bananach stopped.”

A task? Fighting War was not “a task.” It was a conflict that would echo through the mortal realm.

“We want her stopped too, but this is not the way. We can talk about this, approach it rationally. You, me, Donia . . .

The Summer Court isn’t as

strong as Winter, but I have allies.” Keenan pleaded. “We all want the same thing here. None of us has declared war. She needs a declaration to

start the kind of violence she seeks. There are rules that will prevent her from going any further if we all stand together.”

The look Niall leveled at him was uncannily like his predecessor. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“You’re grieving, but you can’t think—”

“Kingling,” Niall interrupted. “Do you truly think questioning me is wise? Surely, you haven’t forgotten the things the Dark Court can do. Have you

forgotten what the Dark King has done to you? The curse that bound you for centuries? Shall I see if I can do it again?”

The friendship that Keenan felt for Niall was all that kept him from letting go of the rage that simmered at the allusion to the past. In as composed

a voice as he could manage, Keenan asked, “And if Aislinn doesn’t like your terms?”

Niall narrowed his gaze. “My court is too strong for her to attack. You know that.”

Reluctantly, Keenan nodded. “I do.”

“And there is another court, one whose favor I’m quite sure I can gain.” Niall let the shadows in the room spring to life, and the dark figures

began dancing and contorting in ways that no solid body could. “My court has long offered many things to the Winter Court. If you knew, kingling, it might disgust you. I had difficulty experiencing desire for the last Winter Queen, but a regent will do what he must for the good of his court . . . and truth be told, I’d find myself far more eager to offer whatever the new queen desires.”

Keenan’s carefully controlled emotions threatened to surface; his skin brightened despite his best efforts, but he forced himself to speak evenly.

“Think about what you’re doing here. We are not enemies.

If you hurt Donia—”

“As you have?”

“You’re caging your friend, threatening insane things . . .

think for a moment.” Keenan shook his head. “You weathered centuries of trouble with

me. I can be here to help you without you resorting to cruelty against Seth or threats to my court. Please stop to think.”

“I will do as I’ve done for centuries , little king. I will protect my court and those I love.” Niall advanced on Keenan.

“Once Bananach is dead, we

can negotiate. Until then . . .” He shrugged.

Keenan gripped Niall’s arm. “I will help you because you are my friend . You might not have forgiven me yet, but you do know how to forgive—or

you wouldn’t be so crazed over his death. I will talk to my queen and to Donia.”

The Dark King frowned.

“This”—Keenan pointed at Seth and then at Niall’s battered body—“is not you, Niall.”

“Really?” the Dark King needled. “Who is it then? Who exactly do you think I am if I’m not Niall?” For a moment, Keenan paused, trying to make sense of the challenging tone in Niall’s voice. Has he gone completely mad? Cautiously, Keenan

said, “I’m not sure what’s going on in your head right now, but you need to step back and figure it out. If you think that you have to be vile to replace

Irial, you’re wrong.”

The Dark King snorted, but did not answer.

“Think about what you’re becoming,” Keenan urged.

But Niall only motioned for him to depart.

In almost grateful silence, the Summer King did so. As he crossed Huntsdale to return to his own court, he considered the bizarre behavior Niall had demonstrated. His once-friend-and-advisor was acting wrong . Admittedly, the Dark Court wasn’t a place Keenan understood, but he thought

he’d understood Niall.

Is it grief? Being their king?

If Keenan would’ve had to swear as to Niall’s sanity or propensity for cruelty, the answer he would’ve given today would be different from the one

he’d have offered in the past. He has changed. And not for the better. Summer might not be always predictable, but they weren’t mad or cruel.

So far.

Of course, Keenan wasn’t entirely sure if that would remain the case if Niall injured Seth. The Summer Queen carried her emotions on the

surface— as a Summer regent should —and the injury of the faery who’d been her first love, who loved her and risked death for her, would not be

something Aislinn would accept gracefully.

Nor would I if it were Donia caged by Niall.

The thought of Niall’s casual remarks about Donia sent Keenan’s own temper flaring to life again as he reached the building that housed their

loft.

Tavish stood in the street, perhaps on guard duty, perhaps waiting for Keenan’s return. The Summer King couldn’t care less why his most

trusted friend was there. What he cared about was that Tavish was there. The older faery had the wisdom and composure that Keenan and his

queen would both lack just then.

Tavish looked at him, and Keenan gestured for him to follow.

Neither faery spoke as they walked to a seldom-used conservatory on one side of the park. Two rowan in the room looked to their king and his

advisor. At a gesture from Tavish, the rowan both departed. The glass door closed with a barely audible click.

“He is unwell?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Keenan said, and then proceeded to fill Tavish in on the conversation with Niall.

“Killing War is not likely to be an easy task, if it is even possible.” Tavish pursed his lips.

“Containing Ash isn’t going to be particularly easy either.”

“The boy is a seer?” Tavish mused. “There’s use in such an asset. He’s loyal to the queen. . . .”

“And loyal to Sorcha and, presumably, he is still loyal to Niall despite the Dark King’s current madness.” Keenan cupped an orchid in his hand

and watched it blossom. The plants nearby stretched toward him as well, responding to the heat that radiated from his skin.

Tavish glanced behind him to the doorway, where the guards blocked them from sight. “Bananach has put us all in a position that we cannot

ignore. We should stand with Niall.”

“I intend to. He didn’t need to threaten me for that to happen.” Keenan scowled. “He stood with me for nine centuries. Even if he cannot put aside his current anger, he is my friend.”

“And Winter? Do we need to speak to her?”

“She’ll stand with Niall,” Keenan said. “Regardless of what I do.”

“You are sure?”

“I am.” Keenan sighed. “She is a wise queen, Tavish. She would’ve led our court beautifully. I see it—the way she puts herself before her court.

They would gladly slaughter anything and everyone for her smile.”

“And you?”

Keenan startled. “I wouldn’t hurt my court for her.” Tavish said nothing, but his silence said enough that words were unnecessary.

“Ash refuses me,” Keenan said.

“Because you have backed away when the chances presented themselves.” Tavish shook his head. “She might believe your excuses, but I’ve

known you since birth. You’ve chosen to restrain yourself.

Repeatedly .”

“She needs time,” Keenan protested.

“No. When Seth was mortal, she needed time, but he’s not mortal anymore. You left for months, during which you allowed Seth to have all of her

attention. Even last night, you did not press her. The queen would be yours in all ways if you wanted her to.

Instead, you’ve offered her every

opportunity to refuse you. As an advisor and as a friend, I’m telling you that the time for prevarication has ended.

Your father was too stubborn to

listen to me where your mother was concerned. Be wiser than him.”

“Beira tricked—”

“No, she didn’t,” Tavish said. “He knew what she was, knew she doubted him, yet he still tried to treat her the way one treats a summer faery.

Aislinn would let you lie with her. The court knows it; you know it. Even now, with her Seth returned to her, you could seduce her. Seth knows this of

her. He loves her still.”

“I understand, but now is not the right time. She will be worrying over Seth’s capture once she learns of it and . . .

it would be wrong.” Keenan

heard the objections in his words, knew they sounded weak. Once, he would’ve done anything to woo the destined queen. He had done and said

things that made him cringe afterward.

It’s different. I know Ash. I respect her.

Tavish kept his gaze fixed on Keenan and asked, “How would you feel if Donia took a lover?”

“ She hasn’t,” Keenan snapped. “She’s not like summer fey.”

“You are not only Summer, my King,” Tavish reminded him. “There is more of your mother in you than you like to admit. You cannot look at me

and say that you are truly trying your best to lure your queen to your side, that you are doing all you could to strengthen this court. Can you?”

“I’ve not objected to the pleasures of Summer before. The Summer Girls . . . and the revelries . . .” Keenan’s words died at the chastising look

on his friend’s face. “If Aislinn accepted me, I would lie with her now even though she loves the morta— Seth .”

“You would, yet you haven’t. You refused her when she offered herself to you; you chose not to seduce her for months when he was away. She

wanted you, still does, yet you do not take her into your bed.” Tavish folded his hands in his lap and stared at his king. “You didn’t love the Summer

Girls enough to mind sharing them. Nor do you love my queen enough. It is not her connection to Seth that bothers you. Since you spent the Winter Solstice before last with Donia, you haven’t—”

“I’ve lived my life to reach the point of strength for this court,” Keenan interrupted.

“I know.” Tavish reached out and gripped Keenan’s shoulder.

The Summer King looked at the faery who’d been the closest thing to a father that he’d ever known, and he knew that any further protestations

he could offer would be pointless. Tavish knew him, saw through any illusions that Keenan would like to embrace.

Keenan had not pursued Aislinn

as truly as he could have. He’d pursued her until she accepted the challenge of becoming queen, but after he’d spent time in Donia’s arms, he had

accepted Aislinn’s rejections, had even helped her create them.

“Don’t try to deceive either of us, my King. You’ve done what you needed. You were steadfast in your devotion to the court. You became

everything you had to be in order to be your father’s heir.

Having the faery you love in your arms has changed you. I can see it, even if most of the

court cannot.” Tavish’s voice was gentle, helping lead them both to the sentences that had never been spoken, admissions that Keenan had

considered in silence. “There are those meant to be sunlit and those who are not ever going to be at peace with the way things are in this court.

Maybe you would feel differently if Aislinn were the Summer Queen in truth, if she gave up her lover.”

“She might.”

“Keenan?” Aislinn came through the doorway. “Why are you out here?”

“You need to make a choice, Keenan.” Tavish squeezed Keenan’s shoulder. “I would not fault you for either one, nor should you. If the court is to

be strong enough to stand against Bananach, the time is here. No more prevarication. No more excuses. Sorcha is locked away; Niall is unwell;

Donia is new to ruling; and our court is not as strong as it must be.”

Keenan turned his gaze to the Summer Queen. He felt a nervous excitement build in his skin. His entire life had been about finding her. He’d

thought it was that simple. His lips curled in a smile.

Simple? Nothing about this curse had ever been simple.

After nine centuries, it all comes down to one day.

Chapter 27

Aislinn looked from her advisor to her king. The seriousness in Tavish’s expression was not unfamiliar, but Keenan’s strangely bemused smile

worried her. “Tavish? Keenan?”

Her advisor bowed his head. “I will be with the Summer Girls,” he said, and then he left her there in the humid conservatory with Keenan.

Once it was just them, Keenan walked toward her slowly.

“I need you to do something, Aislinn.”

“Okaaay. . . .” She reached out and stroked her fingers along a vat of soil. Under her hand, plants began to sprout. She wasn’t sure yet what they were, but she was unable to resist touching the soil.

“What’s up?”

He took her hand in his. “Walk with me?” The nervousness Aislinn felt grew as they left the conservatory. The Summer Court’s space, where we are strong. She squeezed his hand. “Talk

to me. Please?”

The Summer King released her hand and stepped away from her. He looked only at her and asked, “Do you trust me?”

“Keenan—”

“Aislinn, please,” he interrupted. “Do you trust me?”

“I do,” she assured him. All around them, the park was empty. The Summer Girls, the rowan, all of the faeries of the court were out of sight.

As they stood face-to-face in the park where they’d once danced, where they’d kissed, where they’d argued, and where they’d both led their

court in revels—together and separately—Keenan said,

“I’ve misled you.”

She bent and trailed her fingertips over the dark soil, letting heat into the earth, refusing to look at him for a moment. “I know.”

“I’ve manipulated you,” he continued.