Chapter 23
Niamh
“Where are we going?” I trailed Cillian as we walked through Fairwitch Isle, the road curving around the castle and toward the back of the city. “You know Wolfe is going to kill you for sneaking out like this.”
“It’s not exactly sneaking out with Harriet following us.
” He nodded his head behind us where the guard followed closely, her spiral brown hair poofing out from under her helmet.
“And this is one instance where Wolfe is fully aware of where I’m going and what I’m doing. He’s the one choosing not to join.”
I looked at Cillian curiously, but he didn’t explain further, and I figured I’d find out where we were going soon enough. Fairwitch Isle wasn’t that big, and there were only so many places he could be taking me.
“How’s the library coming along?” Cillian asked.
“You know, I was thinking we could have a grand opening. Or reopening. Drinks, food, music—it’ll be a huge party, where everyone can come and check out books.
” He nudged me. “Maybe find a dark aisle and do a little reading.” He waggled his eyebrows, and my cheeks heated.
Had Wolfe told him about what happened between us? I couldn’t imagine Wolfe saying anything because it hadn’t meant anything to Wolfe. Which was good.
“That was supposed to be funny. Because I’m not actually talking about reading. Right over your head.” He whistled and moved his hand over his head.
I shoved him. “I understood. I’m just a little distracted.
” I glanced into the distance, eyeing Wolfe’s lonely cabin at the top of one of the hills, wondering if he was there right now, thinking of some other kind thing to do for me.
I couldn’t believe he was the one who’d put that fire godwitch statue in my room.
I’d walked in one day, and it had just been sitting there, my room unusually free of its normal chill.
I figured it had been Castle or maybe Cillian.
But it was Wolfe. He’d noticed I was cold, and he’d .
. . he’d done something really sweet. Then he’d brought my scarf back to me as if I didn’t have a million after that shopping trip to Ceri’s.
Cillian’s gaze followed mine to Wolfe’s cabin, and my gaze snapped away.
I needed to get the guard out of my mind.
This castle was never going to accept me if I started falling for the wrong brother, and Morton would never forgive me if I got us kicked out of Fairwitch Isle.
He was living his best life in that library, and I was running out of time.
I only had three weeks left. Three weeks to get the key, and I still had no clue what I was doing to get it.
As we walked, everyone we encountered dipped into bows, nodding their heads, chins touching their chests.
Cillian waved jovially, clearly enjoying the attention. We passed Ceri, her cloud of curly blond hair bouncing as she walked along the street.
“Ceri,” Cillian called, and she walked over, dipping into a bow.
Cillian cleared his throat. “Stop that.” He grabbed her arm and gently tugged her upright.
“You’re the high prince,” she said. “I’m going to bow in public.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’re having a party at the library!”
My head whipped in his direction. “We are?” He’d just suggested it, and I hadn’t even had time to think about it.
“You must come,” Cillian said.
Ceri gave him a look. “I can’t. I think I’m going to be busy.”
My gaze bounced between them, and it felt like an entire silent conversation was being had, that Cillian knew why Ceri couldn’t come—I wondered if it had to do with her father somehow.
“I haven’t even told you when it is.” Cillian arched a brow.
“Well, I’m always busy. I have a lot going on between the shop and Father, which reminds me: I must be on my way.”
She continued past us, and Cillian frowned as we resumed walking.
“That was a little strange,” I said.
He huffed a laugh. “Not really. Ceri rarely leaves the shop.”
My brows furrowed. “Why?”
He waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter. I just have a hard time getting her out of her shell. But her loss, I guess.”
“So we’re doing this? We’re throwing a party?”
The road curved behind the castle, and we continued along, making our way toward the grassy hills.
“The town needs it,” Cillian said. “We’ve had nothing to celebrate for so long. Only losses. Finding the library again is a huge win, and Margaret told me that Wolfe found it. If he could find it, that means others can too.”
I swallowed, once again thinking about Wolfe and how close his lips had been to mine. I shook the thoughts away, instead focusing on the other part of what Cillian had said.
“Is it really that bad?” I peeked a glance at the high prince, who waved to a woman above us, stretching out her window to say hi. “Fairwitch is so beautiful and magical and hidden.”
“Not hidden enough,” Cillian said. “People are scared. Especially with parts of the castle disappearing, with no chosen queen.”
I thought about what Wolfe had said, how Cillian was focusing on the wrong things.
“Maybe it’s time to give them more hope, more confidence.” I thought about the way Wolfe had been training me, making me feel stronger and braver every day. Maybe Cillian could do the same for his people.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Maybe it’s time to stop sitting still, waiting to be attacked. Maybe it’s time to rally your people, to strengthen your defenses and figure out how to stop the brotherhood.”
Cillian laughed. “You’ve been talking to Wolfe a lot, haven’t you?”
My cheeks flushed. “Well, he has good ideas.”
“Yeah, he does, except he refuses to be part of anything, share anything, do anything except guard me.”
It was jarring hearing the frustration in the high prince’s voice. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“About what?” Cillian snapped.
“How much you miss your brother?” I asked.
Cillian closed his eyes, and for the briefest moment, I saw the anguish on his face. “No.”
“Why not?” I asked gently.
“Because he wouldn’t listen. Not to me anyway.”
He shoved a hand through his hair, tousling it and making him somehow look even more handsome. He truly was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.
Cillian turned off the cobblestone road onto a winding dirt path that led through the hillside. “Okay, where are we going?”
He smiled, sadness all but forgotten. “My parents want to meet you.”
I stopped in the middle of the road, mouth dropping open. “Your parents?”
Oh no. I’d somehow forgotten all about Cillian’s parents. I knew they’d been at the castle several times because both Cillian and Margaret had mentioned it. I figured I’d meet them eventually, but not today.
“What’s wrong?” Cillian turned, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I grabbed my hair, in a braid that was unraveling, then looked down at the long-sleeved yellow dress I’d chosen for today, flowy and not remotely formal. “I’m not prepared to meet the high prince’s parents. I didn’t do my hair or dress up or practice my curtsies.”
He arched a brow. “You do know that they’re not the high prince, right? Also, you’ve never curtsied for me. I’m starting to feel a little under-appreciated.”
He reached out and plucked a quill from my hair. I’d had it in there this morning in the library and forgotten to take it out.
I groaned. “Meeting the parents is a big deal.”
“They’re nice.” He leaned over, whispering out of the side of his mouth. “And they’re also currently looking at us from behind their curtains.”
My gaze shot to a little cottage in the distance behind a short wall of stones. Two faces peered at me, but they quickly disappeared, the curtain swaying in their absence.
Cottages lined both sides of the road, little openings in the stone wall with paths leading to the houses.
“Why don’t your parents live in the castle?” I asked as we walked through the little opening in the stone wall and toward the house, my heart thumping.
“Nostalgia,” he said. “This was our home before I became high prince. They didn’t want to give it up. I’m glad they kept it. It’s nice coming here for our monthly family dinners.”
The door swung open, a tall, thin woman smiling at me and a shorter grey-haired man standing next to her, spectacles perched on his nose that made him look so much like an older version of Nevan.
“Welcome, welcome.” The woman ushered us inside. “We’re so happy you could come for dinner.”
“Thank you for having me.” I shot a glare at Cillian and lowered my voice. “I thought we said no more secrets. Just to be clear, that includes bringing me to a family dinner to meet your parents without any warning.”
“Noted,” he said back.
“I’m Karina, and this is my husband Jerome.” Karina looped her arm through Jerome’s, and he gave me a soft smile as he took off his spectacles and cleaned them with the end of his shirt.
“We’re so glad to have you,” he said.
“I’m Niamh.” I stuck out my hand, hoping it wasn’t too sweaty. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous about meeting Cillian’s parents. Wolfe’s parents.
I just really wanted them to like me.
“Niamh!” Nevan appeared from a doorway to the left. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“Neither did I,” I muttered under my breath, and Cillian coughed.
Nevan roped me into a hug, some of my nerves melting at seeing another familiar face.
We walked into the quaint home. To the right was some kind of office with a few bookshelves.
We kept walking through an arched doorway and into a cozy great room with one couch on either wall.
I turned to see the room opened up into the kitchen, where smoke rose from a bubbling pot on the iron stove, wood burning bright through the door.
I swallowed, spinning and willing my heart to calm down.
I couldn’t even see the fire, and it was just for the wood, to cook the food. Food was good. I liked food.
“It’s my specialty,” Jerome said from beside me, bringing me out of my spiral. “I hope you like mutton stew.”
Rosemary, thyme, and other savory scents filled the air, making my mouth water.
“That sounds delicious,” I said as everyone else sat down at the round table that was midway between the great room and the kitchen, and I was thankful to no longer be able to see the orange and red flames lighting the stove.
Wine goblets and glasses of water already sat in each space. Cillian pulled out my chair for me, and I sat down, shooting Karina a smile as she dropped into the chair next to me.
Once everyone was settled, I noticed two empty spaces.
“We always hope our boys will come home one day,” Karina said, smiling sadly in a way that broke my heart.
My face twisted in confusion, and Karina must’ve noticed because she said, “I know Wolfe thinks Lor is dead, but he could’ve just been gravely injured, and maybe the brotherhood nursed him back to health. ”
“Yes, because the Butcher is known for being a healer,” Cillian said, and Jerome shot him a look and gave a slight shake of his head.
Karina’s eyes filled with tears as the pot lifted from the stove and plopped onto a circle mat in the middle of the table. “Well, I’ll never lose hope,” she said. “For either of my boys.”