Darkest Mercy (Wicked Lovely 5)
I am their queen. Seeing me falter will do more harm than good. She forced Quinn to his knees. “What court do you serve, Quinn?”
“I am the advisor to—”
“No,” Aislinn said quietly. “What court do you serve? You are not here to serve my wishes, so whose will do you serve?”
“Sorcha’s,” he admitted. “The High Queen sent her representatives and . . . she wanted word of our court.”
“My court,” Aislinn corrected. “If you were spying on my court for another regent, this is not your court. Go.”
“Go?” he echoed.
Aislinn gave him the faery-cruel smile she’d learned when she became Summer Queen. When Keenan taught me to pretend I was not overwhelmed. The smile did not falter, nor did her voice as she said, “She wants you, go serve her court. My faeries do not serve the wishes of other regents without my consent.”
“But . . . but the veil is closed. I can’t go to Faerie.” Quinn’s usual self-confident expression was absent as he looked up at her. “I . . . beseech you: grant me your mercy, please.”
The Summer Queen stared at the kneeling faery. Around her, the court was silent. Mercy? She didn’t want to be cruel, but she now understood what it meant to lead. Sometimes, a regent had to do things that would keep her up at night. It wasn’t always clear, but absolute good and evil were the stuff of children’s fairy tales.
Firmly, she told him, “I don’t trust you, Quinn. You put another court’s interests ahead of my court while claiming to serve me. The safety of my faeries is my first priority. It must be.”
“But . . .” He bowed his head. “I cannot go to her, and out there . . . War is angry. Please?”
Aislinn sighed. “Advisors?”
“He cannot be allowed to remain in the loft or within the upper levels of the building,” Tavish said.
“Or to attend any meeting or to know the touch of any of the summer fey,” Siobhan added.
“Or to serve as guard,” Tavish said.
“My advisors seem to be leaving the option of mercy on the table, Quinn.” The Summer Queen looked at her
advisors and smiled. Then she looked down at Quinn. “You carried word to another court. You were not truly my faery. You are no longer Summer Court, but if you are solitary, you may linger among us for your safety until such time as you find a new court—if my advisors can find suitable use for you.”
“You are merciful,” Quinn said, with gratitude plain in his expression.
Aislinn caught his throat in her hand and let just a little heat into her touch—not enough to truly wound, but enough that her handprint would remain when she released him. “If your actions endanger my faeries, my mercy will end.”
“Yes, m—”
“And if your actions”—she squeezed—“continue, you will be the one to see how much damage a fully capable Summer regent can do.” Then, Aislinn released him. “Get him out of my presence.”
Eliza stepped up along with two rowan. The Summer Girl said quietly, “I would ask to join the guard, my Queen.”
“I don’t see why not. If”—she shot a glance at Tavish—“the head of the guard approves.”
“Training will commence after we escort Quinn to a comfortable cell.” Tavish motioned for Eliza to grab Quinn’s arm, and then he added, “I think we might have a job for you, Quinn. How do you feel about being a training aid?”
The fastidious ex-advisor scowled, and then said, “If the Summer Queen would like me to do so, I will do so.”
Aislinn nodded. “I think a number of the Summer Girls could use some basic defense—”
“And offense, my Queen,” Siobhan interjected.
“Defense and offense training. Quinn will make a fine dummy to practice their skills on.” Aislinn didn’t bother smothering her smile.
Quinn gritted his teeth. “As you wish.”
And with that, Eliza and Tavish led him away.