Page 104 of The Forever Queen

“I’ve suffered greater pains,” he said, not bothering to acknowledge the blood still seeping through the gauze and staining his ritter.

“You need to rest,” Aisling said. “More so than I.”

Lir shook his head. “Kings do not rest. Especially now.”

“Then why bring us here? When the fate of the Sidhe rests on my shoulders, why waste more time than we can afford?!” Aisling asked, raising her voice. Her ears burned, her temper flaring. The Sidhe king’s actions confused her and so, she felt frustrated. She trusted him and yet knew he was keeping something from her. She simply wasn’t certain what.

Lir ran a hand through his hair. He tugged on it, mirroring how Aisling felt.

“To allow you to heal,” he said, repeating his answer from before.

“Liar,” Aisling snapped. There was no reason for the Sidhe king to care for her health or her recovery. He needed her as did all the fae: as a weapon.

“Your impatience makes you ignorant,” he said, his voice like dark velvet. “The Sidhe cannot tell a lie.”

Aisling shuddered, praying to the Forge the Sidhe king didn’t notice it.

“The truth is no match for your mischief, dark lord. As all the tales go,” she said, steeling herself against him.

“Then you’d be wise not to provoke me,” Lir growled. “Weren’t you just thanking me for your rescue?”

Aisling bit down on her anger, holding it between her teeth.

“Rescue?” Aisling asked, baffled. “I would’ve escaped on my own given time. I thanked you forhelpingme and nothing more.”

“What gratitude,” he said, both words dripping with ire.

“You may be king, but I will not kiss your boots as do the others.”

“Perhaps you’ll kiss something else then?” he asked, his eyes darkening. He spoke in jest to ridicule her, to humiliate her, and yet, her abdomen stirred hotly at the sound of such intimacies on his lips. Their night at Dorkoth’s tavern sprouting inside her mind and flushing her complexion.

“You disrespect me with those words.”

Lir snapped toward her, meeting her eyes for the first time since she’d woken. He leaned closer to her, dropping his arms at his sides.

“So be it,” he whispered—the sound of canopies rustling in the wind. And yet, it felt more like an arrow to the chest.

Aisling narrowed her eyes, herdraiochtswelling like a storm in her throat. The tower shuddered with the energy pulsing through its bones. Their chests rising and falling with the pace of their breath in anger.

A heart for a heart. Aisling’s mind flashed like lightning, descending into darkness a heartbeat later.

A knock sounded at the door.

Both Aisling and Lir whipped their heads in its direction, startled by the welcome distraction.

The door creaked open, and a pine marten stuck its head through the gap.

“Mo Damh Bán,mo Lúra,” it greeted them.

Mo Lúra. The title clung to Aisling’s mind like talons in flesh, digging deeper the longer she considered it.

It means bride of the forest, someone had told her once.

The memories are your imagination, Anduril said.Do not trust false visions.

“The bell will ring within the hour,mo Damh Bán,” the pine marten said before bowing and slipping from the room again.

Aisling turned to the Sidhe king, expression filled with questions.

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