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watch over Cilia until we return,” the Lady instructed.
    A beautiful Sidhe woman stepped from the sea of sameness. She smiled as a human did, a trick that few of the court had mastered. Her expression looked peculiar but honest, with her full red lips lifted and her light silver eyes warmed.
    She grasped Cilia’s hand and led her to the courtyard beyond the great hall. He knew where Rois was taking her and regretted he would miss the blossoming wonder on her face as she saw the Butterfly Tree for the first time.
    The trunk was smooth and rounded; its substance was almost translucent. The tree’s long limbs reached high into the over-bright Faerie sky. A faint pulse of shifting colors in its base created a kaleidoscope that flashed through the iridescent body. Its sweetly perfumed bark shined with thick syrupy nectar; butterflies blanketed its arms.
    Cilia would look with her human sensibilities and see the wonder and magnificence that made the Lady lavish the tree with her attentions. She would see, instead of leaves, thousands of butterflies, in every color and pattern imaginable, cover the transparent limbs. Their tiny, straw-like tongues would dart out to suction the sticky nourishment from its silky skin. What she wouldn’t see was the drunken abandon that spurred the fragile insects to glut. Overfilled with a substance they should never have tasted, a slow poison disintegrated their dainty bodies and allowed the tree to absorb their minuscule essence.
    Although the tree looked grounded, it was animated. It moved to where it best felt the light, to where its delicate perfume could best lure more unsuspecting victims. It fed from its decorations; the ground was merely a convenient anchor to hold steady the burden of its pantry stretched across its limbs. This was Faerie, and nothing was as it seemed.
    The Lady guided Fiach to a small alcove, a Whispering Corner. Anything spoken in whispers remained confined to the space, but a raised voice would release any secrets the speaker had imparted. They were a valuable resource, an oasis for allies to meet and foes to plot. Ventriloquism was a necessary skill set if you chose to activate a Corner. Just because your voice couldn’t be heard didn’t mean your lips couldn’t be read.
    They stepped into the small space, and each took a chair facing the other. The air around them thickened and pulsed, which made his ears pop. The spell was active; their privacy guaranteed. He sat back and waited to see what had necessitated this meeting. He was anxious to see Cilia again, to smooth his hands over her flawless skin and glimpse forever in her eyes. He needed to feel his part in her future.
    “I know you think me harsh in my treatment of your mate. For that, I am most sorry.”
    He waved her apology away, uncertain if she meant it. “You didn’t have to take her words. You could have allowed her that small concession.”
    She patted his cheek with affection that was alien to their relationship. “There are things I can do, things I must do, and things that will forever be altered if I interfere.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Do you honestly think that I don’t know what Harailt did to you during your stays with him?”
    Fiach looked away. “I assumed you knew. You never mentioned it, and I saw no reason to either. It was nothing that either of us could change.”
    “Exactly. Your life would have been forfeit if I had tried to come between that demon and his spawn.”
    He sighed wearily. “I am of age. Harailt can no longer command my loyalties. I survived, and I found Cilia. Those are the only two things that matter.”
    “They matter more than you know.”
    “Why so cryptic, Lady?”
    “I cannot speak freely with you until after the Noce . I should not speak with you at all, but I felt the need to … clear the air … between us before this trial begins.”
    His scalp prickled with unease. “Promise me you will not harm her.”
    “I can offer no such promise. It is