“Centuries ago, Don.” Niall’s shadow-maidens danced beside him in glee, belying the meekness of his words. They writhed in the bluish haze of Niall’s cigarette smoke. “Right now, your court is stronger. Mine isn’t able to oppose her.”

“I don’t know. Somehow, I suspect you’d fare better than you’re admitting.”

Niall’s lip curved into a smile, and despite their history of conflict—his working with Keenan and her working against their goals—she felt a loosening of the tension inside her. He seemed happy. Over centuries longer than she’d drawn breath, he’d been sorely abused by Keenan, by Irial, by Gabriel’s Hounds. It was soothing to see him lighter in heart for a change.

“You are kind,” he said. “If Sorcha spent much time here, it wouldn’t matter what we know now. She re-creates the world as easily as we breathe. Once, forever ago, I used to stay near her when Miach was my king, but after Keenan was born”—Niall shrugged as if it wasn’t a loss, although his near-reverent tone revealed the extent of what Sorcha’s presence had obviously once meant to him—“duty called. Miach’s court needed me. Tavish and I held what order we could until Keenan was old enough to escape Beira’s house. She let him have his visits to his father’s court, but…a court needs ruling. We did what we could.”

Donia was silent, thinking about the years Keenan spent in Beira’s home, about the court without a true king, about Niall trying to rule a court not his. That wasn’t something either of them needed to talk about just then. She redirected the conversation. “How long do you think Seth’s been there?”

“For him? A few days. Not long enough for Seth to panic, but…out here, it’s been weeks. I’ve arranged what I need here to go see him. I won’t have him injured if I can protect him.”

Donia nodded. “Bananach came to see me.” Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure she would tell him, but instinct was a critical part of ruling. Hers told her that Niall wasn’t a part of Bananach’s machinations.

“And?”

“She showed me the future.” Donia folded her arms over herself. “I thought we had a chance, but then this happened. She showed me…I am not unlike Beira.”

“It’s only a possible future,” he reminded her.

“If war is coming, I don’t want to be the cause of it,” she whispered. Being the Winter Queen didn’t mean that all of her doubts and worries had faded. If anything, it meant that the consequences of her doubts and worries could be catastrophic.

I am not Beira. I will not be the cause of a return to ugliness.

It was Niall’s voice that was ugly. “Why do you think I restrain myself against him? I have the power to strike him. You have the power to do so. Yet we don’t. I don’t want peace, but war is not what’s right for my court now. If it was…”

Donia shuddered at the cruelty in Niall’s voice then. “So why do you let Bananach run free?”

“I don’t. I try to keep her leashed enough to prevent all-out war. Why do you think Irial saddled me with…I’m trying to do the same thing you are: find a balance that doesn’t weaken my court. Unlike you, I want to strike him. I don’t forgive as you have, yet war is not what’s best for our courts.”

“So we don’t tell Ash about his suspecting—or possibly knowing—where Seth is.” Donia hated it, but the discord that would result from Aislinn knowing Keenan misled her would put all of them in an even more untenable position. And the anger Keenan would have for Donia or for Niall would be dangerous to the already tentative peace.

Niall nodded. “And you let him go.”

“I’m trying,” she whispered. Uttering those words hurt like a physical pain. To come so close to the love she’d dreamed of and lose it was worse than if she’d not known it was within her reach. “Given time, Ash will accept him. Given time and a few wise choices, perhaps we can still avoid war.”

“There was a time when this was what I planned and hoped for—Keenan with his missing queen, happy, strong. It was all that mattered.” Niall looked bereft. His shadow-maidens stroked his shoulders soothingly.

“Me too.” She thought—but didn’t say—that it was still what she wanted, not the being with Aislinn part, but his happiness.Even now. Despite everything, that’s what she wanted. She only wished that his happiness didn’t mean her sorrow.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Donia looked at him and said, “I would prefer that Bananach is contained, but if there is war, Winter will hold to the past.”

Niall was mortal-slow as he turned to look at her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning my court will ally with the Dark Court.” She stood, letting the snow she’d held in her lap fall to the ground, and waited for him to join her. “Whether it be against his court or the High Court. I want peace. I want…a lot of things, but in the end, I need to do what’s best for my court.”

“If I could let war reign just long enough to make him suffer”—Niall smiled, looking so deadly in that instant that it was hard to remember that he hadn’t always been the Dark King—“I would be sorely tempted, but fighting Sorcha…none of us wants that, Donia.”

“I’d rather fight Sorcha than Keenan.” She laid her hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Seth is an innocent. Would you let her harm Seth? If you had to side with Keenan to protect Seth, would you?”

“Yes, though I’d much rather fight against him.”

“But for Seth?”

“He is as my brother,” Niall said simply. “Sorcha will not keep him against his will.”

Donia felt herself swaying slightly. This much time in the heat was wearing on her. “You need to go to Faerie.”

“And if it’s not Sorcha we need to fight? Would you stand against Keenan?” he asked.

“Not happily, but I will if need be.” She held his gaze. “No matter which way we act, Seth’s being in Faerie complicates everything.”