Page 18 of Dark Sun (Wicked Lovely 6)

“Andmythrone? Does his claim against the Summer Court have any merit?”

Aislinn was fairly sure that Urian had to have some measure of legitimacy to his claim, but she needed the confirmation of those who were far more adept at the last thousand years of faery history. These two were—because they’d lived through it.

“The curse I made –stealing half of the young Summer King’s power and placing it in a mortal family line,yourline, Ash--wasn’t explicitly that the kingling needed to look for a faeryqueen. The curse was that the power was hidden in your family. If Keenan had been open to a male partner, he’d have been romancing both men and women for centuries, but well . . .” Irial snorted. “Keenan is strictly heterosexual, so it was technically only hidden in the women of the Foy family.”

“Could Urian have taken the throne ever? He’s a Foy. So when Thelma died . . .?” Aislinn asked.

“If Keenan chose Urian? Yes.” Irial looked smug. “I knew that he wouldn’t, and so the Summerlight passed to the occasional son. Keenan, of course, was not thinking clearly. Not allqueensare women.”

Niall sighed. “He’s also been learning ‘modern terms’ since you’re still a veritable toddler.”

Aislinn’s smile was tense. “I’m not a toddler.”

“Not even half a century,” Niall retorted.

“And yet,” she echoed his words. “Here I am, Niall. The Summer Court is mine.”

Irial chortled, scooped up the other tiger cub, and gave it a wallet to chew on.

“Is thatheteropart a, umm, a Summer Court thing?” Aislinn felt her cheeks burn with lingering mortal awkwardness, but it wasn’t like there was a handbook on life as a faery and most of her court seemed to be less flexible in partners than the High Court and Dark Court.

And sometimes I feel like a child for asking any of it,Aislinn thought. A toddler, indeed.

“Summer Court and Winter Court are often more limited in their intimacies,” Niall said levelly, as if there was nothing strange in her asking him. “Not strictly so, but the court reflects the regent. The last regent of your court, Keenan, favored his accursed mother in seeking both a heterosexual and monogamous future. And the regent before Keenan was equally narrow in his thinking. Solitary, Dark, and High . . . not so much. The Winter Court is the only court that veers towards monogamy, which could have been what influenced Keenan in those limitations. Or the curse? It’s hard to say.”

Seth,Aislinn thought far too quickly.Was he interested in other people? Mortals? Men? He’d spent so much time with Niall. And in the High Court.

Seth was the nominal leader of the Solitary Faeries, but he was also aligned to both the High Court and the Dark Court.

. . . which meant he was rarely here for her. Seth might not see an issue with that, but more and more, Aislinn did.

Problems for another day, she reminded herself.

Aislinn darted a glance at Niall. She’d never asked questions about anything strictly private, butgancanaghslike Niall—and Irial, as well—were addictive. Seth had been mortal when the former Summer King had pushed Niall to spend an excess of time with him.

“Keenan wanted you to seduce Seth away from me,” Aislinn murmured.

Niall had the sort of expression that meant that his patience was wearing thin. “We are where we arenow, Ash. I’m trying to be your friend here—and not only because of Leslie or because of Irial. As your friend I will ask that we focus on the topic, not lingering insults against either of our courts. We are at peace with the Winter Court. That will change if Urian strikes one of us.”

“Right. What do we do about Urian?” Aislinn asked, mentally shoving her questions away. “I’m not seeking violence against anyone, but I will not allow him to injure my faeries. He needs to understand that there are limits to what we can tolerate. Striking me or mine invites retribution.”

“Let me go talk to my son,” Irial suggested. “Maybe—”

“No,” Niall and Aislinn said in unison.

“Not your place,” Niall added, almost apologetically. “If Urian comes to my court, he will not walk away uninjured. If he strikes mine—and that includes my . . .” He gestured at Irial. “I will send The Hunt to retrieve him for me, so we might discuss matters.”

“But . . .” Aislinn looked at Irial.

Irial looked heartbroken, but he said nothing. The former Dark King, however, was subject of no court. He was a free agent. Would he risk the love he had with Niall to save his son?

“Court first,” Niall said coldly. “I defend what’smineat all costs. I suggest you do the same for the Summer Court. If you would like—as a gesture of goodwill—I would lend the Hunt to you to find he who has struck down your guard.”

Aislinn paused, looking between them. “Let me ponder. I feel like waiting rather than acting is not the right course.”

Niall gave a short nod. “Summer is impulsive that way.”

It was not a judgment, merely an acknowledgment of truth. Each faery belonged somewhere. Some were solitary, preferred to forego a court’s protection. Some were born to a court and stayed. Others chose. No matter how they elected their affinity, ever faery was what they aligned with in the world: Dark Court’s wicked shadows, Summer Court’s frolicking sunlight, or Winter Court’s calmer snowfalls. Each could rage, but their instinctual reactions tended toward their alignments.

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