You. I've spent my life waiting for you.' -Keenan

Can I join you at lunch?"
She paused. "You have every other day."
He laughed, a sound as musical as the chiming song of the lupine fey when they ran. "Yes. But you resented it every other day."
"What makes you think I won't resent it today?"
"Hope. It's what I live on...

After a steadying breath, Aislinn turned to Keenan. "I'm sure you can figure out lunch without help. So, umm, go make friends or whatever."
And she walked away.

He sped up to stay beside her as they entered the cafeteria. "May I join you?"

"No."

He stepped in front of her. "Please?"

"No." She dropped her bag into a chair next to Rianne's things. Ignoring him-and the stares they were attracting-she opened her bag.
He hadn't moved.
With a shaky gesture, she pointed. "The line's over there."

He looked at the throng slowly progressing to the vats of food. "Can I get you something?"

"A little space?"

A flare of anger flashed over his too-beatiful face, but he said nothing. He just walked away.

Mortals are such fragile things. Just tender feelings walking around exposed in their delicate shells...Easy to crush.

She stepped closer to one of the statues. It looked wide-eyed, almost afraid as she reached out her hand.
One of the women reached out and snatched Aislinn's still uplifted hand. "No."
The women spoke all at once, not to her or to Keenan, but softly-as if to themselves-in a sibilant whisper. "He's ours. Fair exchange. Not yours to interfere.

He'd given her his vow: to take care of her, to keep her from hurt or pain, from wanting for anything. Her leaving didn't negate his promises; they weren't conditional.