“Do you want to get the violin back, or not?” He actually looked stricken, and I felt a little sorry for the guy. “Look, ice-boy,” I whispered, “I don’t expect you to take her to bed, or even kiss her. Just the thought of that…ugh!” I shuddered and pushed the thought away, drawing my dagger in a smooth, furtive motion. “Oh, great, now that image is stuck in my head forever. Just…flirt a little. Be charming. Tell her about your ‘adventures.’ Then if she gets too touchy-feely, excuse yourself and get out. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t think you would. Hold still.” Swiftly I brought the dagger up, cutting a strand of his long hair before he could react. It dropped into my palm, and I curled my fist around it. “Perfect. Much obliged, ice-boy.”

Ash reared back, eyes flashing, fingers going to his sword. I shot him a warning glare, and he remembered himself, dropping his hand from the hilt.

“What are you doing, Goodfellow?” he snarled.

“Keep it down, Prince.” I studied the strand between my fingers, watching it change from pale blond to jet-black, and smirked. “It’s all part of the plan, don’t worry.”

With a loud creak, the gates swung open and a satyr in a herald’s uniform padded through, beckoning to us urgently. “Well, here we go, ice-boy. Try to keep it together in front of the queen.”

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT, PROUD TITANIA

We walked through the gate into the flowering tunnel of thorns on the other side. I breathed in deeply and sighed, loving the potent, fragrant smells of the forest. Beside me, Ash did not look as enamored. His posture was stiff, tense. I guess I couldn’t blame the guy, walking into the heart of enemy territory, surrounded by Summer fey, unable to use his magic or his weapon. I might’ve felt bad for him, if the whole thing wasn’t so darn amusing.

The tunnel ended in a curtain of vines. Dark shapes and a haunting, eerie tune filled the air on the other side. The melody pulled at my stomach, a sad, sweet sound, before I shook it off. Looking at Ash, and the pale determination on his face, I gave him a savage grin.

“No turning back now, ice-boy,” I muttered, and swept through the curtain into the room beyond.

Oberon and Titania’s throne room was a massive clearing with cathedral-size trees creating a vaulted ceiling overhead. Thick moss carpeted the floor, and briars hemmed in the edges of the clearing. A waterfall trickled into a crystal pool, where will-o’-the-wisps and piskie lights danced, bobbing through the clearing like drunken stars. Summer gentry, in their ridiculously fancy outfits, sat or stood around a pair of thrones in the middle of the clearing, one empty, but the other quite occupied.