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 asun reasonable 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 ifyou’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, “Maybeyou 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 glasses 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 glass 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 glass and glanced at him. “Yeah?”

He ran a thumb over the outside of the glass 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 glass. “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 sheshould 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?”