“It was the only way he knew to protect the court, the faery, and the only mortal who'd ever mattered to him.”

“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.”

“For this mortal I would disobey my queen, abandon my king, the court that has protected me all these years. All of it.”

“In the end mortals always expired before faeries. They were such finite creatures. Their first heartbeat and breath were but a blink from death. To add the weight of nourishing his insatiable court in a time of peace was to hasten that unconscionably.”

“When I told you I wanted to try, I spoke the truth. When I turned away, it was for my former court, and when I tried to make another faery love me, it was for that court. I’ve lived for my whole life trying to bring the Summer Court back to the strength it once was. In all of those years, in centuries , I’ve only wished myself free of duty because of one reason. You.”

“If he took her into his arms, he would keep her. He wouldn't let her suffer the way the other mortals had when he'd left them. He would keep her, with his court's permission or without it. Irial wouldn't take her, and Keenan wouldn't stand between them.”

“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.”