Laughing, Irial sauntered out of the club, feeling almost satisfied with how unexpectedly well the day had turned out.

Chapter 15

By the time Irial left, Niall was sure that the Dark King would try to see Leslie again—if for no other reason than to provoke Keenan. Or me. Irial might not actively strike out at Niall for refusing the offer to succeed him, but they both knew it was an unforgiven insult. Leslie was doubly vulnerable for being Aislinn's friend and for being Niall's… what? Not his paramour, but perhaps his friend—that was something he could be. He could enjoy her company, be near her; he could have all of the things he wanted—save one. If she's safe from harm … The best Niall could hope for was that Leslie wouldn't ever cross paths with Irial again. Hope isn't enough.

A commotion at the door heralded Aislinn and Keenan's arrival.

"Where's Seth?" Keenan hadn't crossed the length of the room before he asked the question that was of utmost importance to the court…Is he safe?

Aislinn was not beside Keenan. She had been waylaid by the cubs to allow Keenan to speak to Niall first. It was a weak ruse, but it would buy the king a brief moment.

"I sent him away with Leslie. Well guarded, but—" Niall paused as the Summer Queen approached, her skin glowing with obvious pique. "My queen."

He bowed briefly to her.

She ignored him, her gaze only on Keenan. "That's getting old, Keenan."

"I …" The Summer King sighed. "If Seth was in peril, I wanted to protect—"

She turned to Niall. "Is he?"

Niall kept his face unreadable as he told them, "Fortunately, Seth did not attract the Dark King's attention, but Leslie did."

"Leslie?" Aislinn repeated. She blanched. "That's the third time he's met her, but I didn't think … he didn't pay any attention to her at Rabbit's, and he was dismissive at Verlaine's, and she said he wasn't… I'm a fool. I … never mind." She shook her head and refocused on the topic at hand. "What happened?"

"Seth took Leslie away. The guards followed, but—" He looked not at Aislinn but at Keenan, hoping that their centuries of companionship would weigh in his favor. "Let me stay nearer her until Irial leaves again. I can't touch him, but he has …"

Niall couldn't say it, even now with everything that had passed; he wasn't sure how to finish that statement. Irial's random moments of kindness weren't something Niall liked to acknowledge.

A look of brief understanding passed over Keenan's face, but he did not ask the obvious questions. He did not point out that Niall was treading on unsafe ground. He merely nodded.

Aislinn spoke softly, "She is already interested in you, Niall. I don't want her to lose her mortal life because of a fleeting crush."

It was a warning. He knew it, but he'd been fey longer than his queen had drawn breath. Hoping Keenan wouldn't interfere, he asked, "What are your terms?"

"My terms?" She looked at Keenan.

"Terms under which he can go to her," Keenan clarified.

"Nothing's ever simple, is it?" Aislinn shoved at the gold-and-shadow streaks of her hair, looking like the sort of omnipotent deity mortals once believed the court fey to be.

"I will agree to whatever you ask of me if you let me keep her safe." Niall looked at Aislinn, but he spoke to Keenan as well. "I don't ask for many considerations."

Aislinn paced several steps away from them. For a newly fey monarch, the queen did exceptionally well, but Keenan and Niall had been together in the courts for centuries. There were habits, laws, traditions that Aislinn couldn't begin to understand so soon.

Niall looked at his king while Aislinn had her back turned.

Keenan didn't offer assurances. Instead he spoke softly to Aislinn. "You can set terms to Niall's presence in her life. He wants to protect the girl, to keep her safe. I would allow him to go to her."

"So I just need to figure how much he can get involved in her life?" Aislinn looked from Niall to Keenan, her observant gaze letting on that she knew there were nuances to the conversation that she was missing.

"Exactly," Keenan said. "None among us would willingly place a child in the Dark Court's hands, but if Irial's done no affront to our court, it's not our concern by law. I cannot act, not directly, unless he violates the laws."

Then his king walked away, having told Niall what he needed to know, what he'd already known: Keenan wasn't going to act. The Summer King didn't approve of Irial's predilections, his cruelties, or anything that happened in the shadows of the Dark King's court, but that didn't mean he was willing to enter a fight with the other court unless he could justify it by law. Those were his terms, whether he'd spoken them into the negotiations or not.

The Dark Court—like any of the courts—had volition. If Leslie belonged to the Summer Court, things would be different. But she was unattached, and thus fair game for any fey who wanted her. Years ago, Keenan had forbidden his fey from collecting mortals. Donia had made the same ruling when she took the Winter Queen's throne. The Dark Court, however, had no such compunction. Musicians who were particularly tempting "died young" to the mortal world. Artists retired to unknown locales. The striking, the unusual, the enticing— they were stolen away for the pleasures of the dark faeries. It was an old tradition, one Irial had always permitted his court fey. If he wanted her for himself, Leslie had no defense.