Page 68 of The Savage Queen

“The quicker your mount’s gait, the fainter the prick to destroy the ice heart, brother. Break the heart and you win. Whether or not you kill yourcaerain the process, well, that’s another story entirely. Of course, if you’ve no faith in yourself that you can win and still have a breathing bride, surrendering is always an option.” Fionn leaned closer to Aisling, kissing the backs of her ears till jewels dripped from her lobes, sprouted between her braids, and her tangled tresses. A crown of icespeared from her head like the rays of a frostbitten sun, transforming Aisling into a queen of Oighir. The queen she’d become if left to rot here for all eternity should Lir fail the tests, imprisoned as Fionn’s prize. The other alternative, death, whether Lir succeeded or not. This, considering destroying the ice heart without also impaling Aisling was impossible.

Aisling should’ve anticipated this; Fionn would ensure it was impossible for Lir to win. If Fionn couldn’t have Aisling and the power she promised, no one could.

Aisling bit down on her tongue till she tasted blood, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides.

“So, what say you? Will you surrender or accept the third and final test?” Fionn continued, straightening.

Lir’s nostrils flared, eyes shifting between his brother and Aisling. No doubt weighing the same consequences Aisling had as well. Verdant eyes flashing with woodland tempests the whole of Fjallnorr felt until, at last, Lir sheathed his axes.

“Let’s begin,” Lir said, calmer than his posture implied.

Aisling couldn’t see Fionn’s smile from where he stood, but she could feel it tiptoeing across her nerves till her entire body shook with the cold.

An ebony stag was escorted to the bridge, six or so silver wolves nipping at its heels to herd it. It huffed, stomping atop the bridge as Fionn summoned a ‘tilt’ railing of stone-hard snow along the length of the bridge.

“You’ll ride on the left side of my tilt. Aisling will stand at the end of the bridge to the right of said tilt. Destroy the heart with the tip of your joust and Aisling is yours, dead or alive. Fail to do so and Aisling stays here with me. Forever.”

Forever.

The word struck Aisling like a punch to the gut, leaving her struggling for breath. And at the faintest sign of herdraiocht,the collar around her throat squeezed till the edges of her vision blurred black.

Lir tore his eyes from her, shoulders taut as he appraised the stag. He brushed his palm over the beast’s muzzle, soothing its restless energy after having been corralled by the wolves. Aisling too could feel its anxiety. Could feel the brush of the fae king’s fingertips atop the stag’s pelt as though he were stroking her own bare flesh.

“Ready,mo Lúra?” Fionn whispered as he guided her to her position atop the bridge.

Aisling pursed her lips, biting down every insult sprouting inside her mind. Words were a consolation for the true punishment the son of Winter would eventually face at Aisling’s hands. And when the time came, Aisling wouldn’t hold back.

“Don’t look so vexed with me, Aisling,” Fionn continued.

“Vexed isn’t nearly a sufficient description, my Lord. There are far more colorful terms I had in mind.”

“Before or after our kiss?”

Aisling stiffened, gently fanning the embers of her anger.

“Have I enchanted you so that a single kiss still weighs heavily on your mind even as you position me for my death?”

“Death?” Fionn feigned outrage. “Who said anything about death?”

“Lir’s to break your ice heart, isn’t he? The object floating just before my own. To break it would be to break my own.”

Fionn laughed. “Surely you know my brother better than that,mo Lúra. Or is it coyness that compels you to deny the deathless longing in his eyes each time his eyes gravitate to you? How he bloodies himself failing to resist your natural enchantments? You’re his obsession,mo Lúra.”

Aisling turned away, hiding whatever emotion Fionn’s words provoked.

“He hungers for power and nothing more.”

“Aye, Lir doesn’t know anything else. And so, he’d never let you die, much less kill you. You’re the key to his ambitions, and so neither would I for what it’s worth. Lir will surrender. He’ll choke and the test will be lost.”

Aisling blinked. So, this was how Fionn anticipated a win. One laced with humiliation on Lir’s part.

“You’re hoping Lir will forfeit?”

“I don’t hope. I know.”

Aisling scowled at Fionn, simmering with heat.

“Then perhaps you’ve spoken one true statement: I do know Lir better than you.” Aisling planted her feet in place, steeling herself atop the bridge. “Lir would rather die than ever surrender.”

---