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Darkest Mercy (Wicked Lovely 5)

Page 57

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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—”



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