As the two regents exchanged words, one of the Winter fey reached for Rika, but she wasn’t done yet. She’d brought this problem to Donia’s court, sought intervention, but all three knew that Keenan’s actions were what had pushed her into needing to do so. He wouldn’t be returning to the desert now, and although she was grateful that she’d not see him again, she wanted to say her piece before leaving.

“You pushed me,” she said, interrupting the silence between Keenan and Donia. “You made the mistake of thinking I was yours to manipulate. . . .”

“So you swore loyalty to my opposing court? I offered to protect you, to strengthen the safety of the desert, and you do this?” Keenan’s voice made clear that his emotions were riding high.

“It would be neutral territory if you hadn’t tried to bully me,” Rika told him.

He stared at her with hurt plain on his face. Once that hurt would’ve made her agree to anything he asked. Now she held his gaze unflinchingly.

Air so hot that it was hazy beat against her as he stalked forward. The greenery around his feet extended with him. The Summer King unbound and angry was a daunting thing, and Rika had a brief moment of gratitude that he hadn’t been so forceful when he’d visited her in the desert a few weeks ago.

Sweat formed on Rika’s face, but she stood her ground.

A tree branch overhead burst into bloom so forcefully that the ice launched from it like an explosion. He looked sad, as if the shattering of ice had transformed his temper into sorrow. His volatility hadn’t decreased with his being unbound. If anything, in this moment, she would say that it had grown worse. Back when she was a girl he was trying to woo, she hadn’t seen his moods. Then, she saw only the charm. Later, when she tried to convince girl after girl not to trust him, she’d seen his temper and his sorrow. Even then, his sorrow worked on her more than his anger ever would.

He stopped in front of her, his eyes filled with loss and longing, and said, “I am not your enemy, Rika.”

Unwilling to let him have even a moment of victory, Rika pointed out, “You are not my friend either. You never were. You were my almost lover, my biggest mistake, my opposition, but you were never my friend. Friends don’t turn away when someone is lost and hurt, when someone is freezing . . . literally freezing for trusting the wrong person.”

Behind her, she knew Donia waited, the cool flow of arctic air pushing forward, easing the unpleasant sting of heat, and Rika was surprised to find the cold momentarily comforting.