Fragile Eternity Part 5

Aislinn closed the door behind her. "What for this time?"

"Maybe over asking about Bananach. Maybe still over this business with Niall. Maybe something...else-" Keenan broke off midthought and scowled.

"Did she talk to you at all?" Briefly, Aislinn rested her hand on his forearm before going to the other end of the sofa. She kept her distance by habit, breaking it only for etiquette or gestures of friendship, but every day it grew more difficult to keep that distance.

"No. I was stopped at the door again, refused admittance to the house. 'Unless it is official business,' Evan said. For three days, she's been unavailable and now this."

"Evan is just doing his job."

"And enjoying it, I'm sure." Keenan was not very good at rejection of any sort; Aislinn had figured that out back when she was still mortal.

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 a.s.set 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." Aislinn hugged a pillow to her like a big stuffed toy. Talk of the intricacies of faery relationships and courts and of grudges between faeries with centuries of history made her feel so very young. Many of the faeries might look-and often act-like her cla.s.smates at school, but the whole longevity thing made life far more complicated. Brief relationships spanned decades; long friendships stretched over centuries; betrayals of yesterday and decades and centuries past all cut deeply. It was a challenge to navigate.

"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-" Aislinn stopped herself. Rehashing Keenan's deceits and the consequences for Leslie and for Niall yet again wasn't going to help. "We both made mistakes."

Leslie's being caught in the heart of the Dark Court was Aislinn's fault too. She'd failed one of her closest friends-and she'd failed Niall. Aislinn shared the weight of the responsibility for the actions of the Summer Court. It was why she was trying to work on a closer relationship with Keenan: they had joint responsibility, and if she was going to bear the guilt for his less palatable actions she needed to know what they were in advance.

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, Aislinn had no choice but to get along with the Summer King. Unless one of them died, they were bound together for eternity or until they no longer held the Summer Court-and faery rulers tended to hold their courts for centuries. That was pretty close to an eternity.

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."

Aislinn moved farther back into the corner of the sofa, her message implicit in the movement. "I don't have a choice in the matter. Donia does."

"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." Aislinn didn't want him to follow that thought any further. The peace between the courts was new and tenuous. It was better if Donia and Keenan were at peace with each other, but talking to Donia alone made her anxious. They'd become friends of a sort, not as close as Aislinn had initially hoped, but close enough that they'd spent afternoons together at first. That had ended when spring began. When things with Keenan changed. They could avoid talking about it, but it took constant effort for her and Keenan not to touch each other.

"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," Aislinn admitted.

Keenan poured them both gla.s.ses 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s and glanced at him. "Yeah?"

He ran a thumb over the outside of the gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s. "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."

For almost a full minute, he didn't answer; he just held on to her hand.

When she started to pull back, he smiled. "I'm not sure this threat is having the result you'd like it to. You're even more alluring when you're angry."

Her face flushed as the words she should say and the words she could say weren't the same, but she didn't break her gaze. "I'm not playing, Keenan."

His smile vanished, and he let go of her hand. A serious look came over his face. He nodded. "No secrets. That's what you are asking of me?"

"Yes. I don't want to be adversaries-or play word games." Faeries twisted their words to allow themselves every possible advantage.

The faery before her spoke quietly, "I don't want to be adversaries either."

"Or play word games," she said again.

The wicked smile returned. "Actually, I like word games."

"I'm serious, Keenan. If we're going to work together, you need to be more open with me."

He had a challenge in his voice when he asked, "Really? That's what you want?"

"Yes. We can't work together if I have to wonder what you're thinking about all the time."

"If you're sure that's what you want." His voice was wavering between teasing and intensely serious. "Is it, Aislinn? Is that what you truly want of me? You want my total honesty?"

She felt like she was walking into a trap, but backing down was not the right approach if she was to be his equal. She forced herself to look him in the eye as she said, "It is."

He leaned back and took a sip of his water, watching her as he did so. "Well, so you don't need to wonder...I was thinking-just now-that sometimes we get so caught up in the court stuff, Donia, Niall, your cla.s.ses...It's easy to forget that nothing I have would be mine were it not for you, but it's never easy to forget that I still want more."

She blushed. "That's not what I meant."

"So you're going to play word games now?" There was no denying the challenge in his voice this time. "You can decide when my honesty is welcome?"

"No, but-"

"You said you wanted to know what I'm thinking; there weren't conditions. No word games, Aislinn. Your choice." He sat his gla.s.s on the table and waited for several heartbeats. "Have you changed your mind so easily? Would you prefer we have secrets or not?"

Aislinn felt the edge of terror approach her, not in fear of physical safety, but in fear that the friendship they'd been building was tumbling around her.

When she didn't speak, he went on. "I was thinking that no one else could've handled any of the things you have. Even adjusting to being fey...Not one of the Summer Girls adjusted so quickly. You didn't mourn or rage or cling to me."

"I knew about faeries. They didn't," she protested. She hated the faery inability to lie more and more as he spoke. It would be easier to lie and deny how painlessly she had become fey. It would be easier to say that she wasn't adjusting to her new life far faster than she'd ever thought. It would be easier to say she was struggling.

Because then he wouldn't be doing this to me.

He'd given her s.p.a.ce, given her time. He'd been a friend and not even approached the boundaries she'd set.

Run. Run now.

She didn't.

And Keenan moved closer, invading her s.p.a.ce. "You know it's more than that. I know now that it was right that I didn't find my queen all these years. Waiting for you was worth everything that I thought I couldn't endure."

He had a hand in her hair now; sunlight slid down her skin.

"If you were my queen, truly my queen, our court would be stronger still. If you were mine, without mortal distractions, we'd be safer. We'd be stronger if we were truly together. Summer is a time to rejoice in pleasures and heat. When I'm around you, I want to forget everything else. I love Donia. I always will, but when I'm near you-" He stopped himself.

She knew what he was not-saying. She felt the truth of it, but that part of her wasn't something to give over to her court's health. Had he known they'd feel this way? Had he known that her insistence on approaching queenship as a job and not a relationship was going to limit their court's growth? She didn't want to know the answer.

"The court is stronger than it's ever been in your lifetime," she murmured.

"It is, and I'm grateful for what you've given our court. I'll wait as long as I must for the rest. That's what I'm thinking about. I suppose I should be thinking about the list of things we have to do, but"-he leaned closer, holding her gaze-"all I can think right now is that you're here with me where you belong. I do love Donia, but I love my court too. I could love you as we're meant to love one another, Aislinn. If you'd let me, I could love you enough that we'd forget everything but each other."

"Keenan..."

"You asked for honesty."

He wasn't lying. He couldn't. It doesn't matter. His telling her these things didn't, couldn't matter.

Aislinn could feel the sunlight that lived somewhere in the center of her. It stretched out to fill her skin to bursting. She was responding to Keenan's brief touch with an intensity that she'd felt only with Seth-which was wrong.

Is it? A traitorous voice whispered inside her. He's my king, my partner....

She put a hand on Keenan's chest, intending to push him away, but sunlight pulsed between them at the contact. Their bodies were a giant conduit; sunlight looped between them like a stream of energy that grew stronger as it slipped through the barrier of skin.

His eyes widened, and he drew several unsteady breaths. He leaned toward her, and she felt herself leaning into him. Her arm was bent at the elbow so that-although she still had a hand on him as if to push him back-they were chest to chest, her arm pressed between them.

And he kissed her, something he'd only done when she was mortal. Once, she had been lost under the dizziness of too much summer wine and too many hours dancing in his arms. The second time was a taste of seduction when she was telling him to leave her alone. But this time, the third time, he kissed her so gently that it was barely a brush of lips. It was a question as much as a kiss. It was affection, and somehow that made it worse.

She pulled away. "Stop."

Her word wasn't much beyond a whisper, but he still paused. "Are you sure?"

She couldn't answer. No lying. She could taste the ripeness of summer in the words, a promise of what she could have if she came just a moment closer.

"I need you to move back." She concentrated on the meaning of those words, on the feel of the sofa, on the spines of the leather-bound books she could see on the wall behind Keenan-on anything but him.

She lowered her hand from his chest.

Slowly. Just concentrate on what matters. My life. My choices. Seth.

Keenan pulled back as well, watching her intently as he did so. "The court would be dying if it weren't for you."

"I know that." She couldn't move any farther away. There was nowhere to go; the sofa arm was already digging into her back.

"I would be useless without you," he continued.

She clutched the pillow in her lap like it was a shield she could hold between them. "You held the court together for nine centuries without me."

He nodded. "And it was worth it. Every torture was worth it for where we are now and for where we could be if you accept me someday. If we had the time to just be together as we should be..."

For another too-long moment, she stayed still, trying to find the words to diffuse the tension that had sprung up. This wasn't the first time he'd been so expressive in his words, but it was the first time he'd reached out to touch her skin in anything other than casual affection. The combination was too much.

"s.p.a.ce?" Her voice broke on the word.

He moved back farther. "Only because you ask it of me."

She felt lightheaded.