“...Bananach sits on your throne, has declared herself Dark Queen.""She WHAT!?" Niall- or perhaps Irial-asked.”

“Donia asked incredulously. “What were you doing?”“The day had just begun, and we were dancing,” Aislinn said.“Dancing?” Donia looked at the Summer Queen with the same disdain Keenan had once seen on her face when she looked at the Summer Girls. “Of course you were. Bananach is attacking faeries, stealing from our courts. Irial is injured. Faerie is closed. Yes, dancing is precisely what will help.”

“Irial!”“Still here.” Irial didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled a little.“You’re an ass,” Niall said, but he kept his hands on Irial’s chest so that he could feel both pulse and breath.“You too, Gancanagh,” Irial murmured.”

“The former Dark King’s eyes closed again; his chest did not appear to rise.Niall reached out and put a hand on the injured faery’s chest. “Irial!”“Still here.” Irial didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled a little.“You’re an ass,” Niall said, but he kept his hand on Irial’s chest so that he could feel both pulse and breath.“You too, Gancanagh,” Irial murmured.”

“You are my king. You could command me to stop seeing her."Niall turned his gaze to Irial. "What would you do?""Blind myself, if you were foolish enough to use those words.”

“Like many faeries she knew, he was sculpture-perfect, but instead of being wrought of shadows like those in her court, this faery had a tangled feel to him. Shadow and radiance. He didn‘t look much older than her, until she saw the arrogance in his posture. Then, he reminded her of Irial, of Bananach, of Keenan, of the faeries who walked through courts and crowds confident that they could slaughter everyone in the room. Like chaos in a glass cage.”

“What are you going to do? What do you want to do?” she prompted.“I’m going to go try to help Niall. He’s not acting like himself, and I have a theory on what’s wrong,” he told her. “Then afterward I'm going to ask you to marry me.”