Chapter 2
“True love cannot be stolen.”
— A Seelie Guide to Happiness
The smile I somehow manage to find feels like a victory in and of itself as I make my way back up the stretch of carpet to the party.
The string quartet beside the catering tent strikes up a lively tune the moment the King and Queen of Willowhaven make their grand entrance amidst shouts of excitement.
Fae clamber to shake their hands, offering all manner of good tidings and blessings to our newly crowned monarchs. They’re probably not all genuine, but at least none of them are spitting hatred like Nolan.
It’s them or me.
Rage simmers under my skin, bubbling in my blood.
I push Nolan to the back of my mind, focusing on the present and letting the beautiful music and joyful atmosphere pour over me like cool, clear water from a mountain stream.
Kerris looks resplendent in a lilac gown the same shade as her curtain of wavy hair, which is threaded with flowers. A true Seelie queen in her gold diadem that resembles the branches of a willow tree.
My cousin looks so blissfully happy. Heaven knows she deserves it. The newlyweds have had their share of difficult days, yet they still managed to cling to their love. Today is simply a difficult day for Nolan and me. Happiness is right around the bend.
I snag a champagne flute from one of the many roving servants and sink into the crowd, waiting my turn to steal Kerris for myself—and avoid my mother.
Cordelia seems content enough, holding a court of her own with Mrs. Faber and Mrs. Tilton.
They’re probably trying to one-up each other with wedding plans.
Yet another topic on which she and I disagree.
The more opulent, the better in her mind. I’m not even sure I want a formal wedding, especially after seeing how stressed Kerris was while planning her own. I did what I could to help alleviate some of the pressure, but in the end, the burden was hers and Everett’s to bear.
Of course, I won’t be marrying a king, so we wouldn’t have the entire kingdom watching and judging.
Maybe we should elope instead.
Nolan never seems keen to discuss it, saying he doesn’t mind either way.
Thankfully, we have a little time before we need to start worrying about that.
Kerris’s gaze catches mine, and she waves me through the waiting crowd. The royal guards allow me past with nods and somber glances. Nolan should be here among his colleagues. Instead, he’s sleeping off what is bound to be a terrible hangover.
He’ll come back to himself soon enough. Then he can rejoin their ranks, and all will be as it should.
I climb the steps as quickly as I dare, careful not to spill my drink on the marble.
Kerris throws her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug, rattling my glass. It’s a wonder I don’t drop the thing.
“Oh, sorry!” She pulls back. “I was so excited to see you, I didn’t realize you had that in your hand. How are you? You look amazing.” Her brow furrows. “Is this the dress we picked out? I could’ve sworn it was black and white.”
“My mother took issue with that one.” One of the many reasons for this champagne. Bottoms up.
Everett Gathin, Willowhaven’s first Unseelie king, nods down at me, his gray-green skin stark against the crisp white of his linen shirt. “Nia Quill.”
Knowing how much he hates curtsying, I incline my head, which earns me a roll of his black eyes. According to Kerris, all this formality drives him mad. Little wonder, considering he grew up in the desolate Unseelie lands.
“How’re you finding castle life, Your Majesty?
” I bite back a smile when he grimaces at the moniker.
He has yet to master the false air of self-importance that comes with court life.
I secretly hope he never does. There’s something refreshing about a man unable—or unwilling—to hide his every emotion.
Everett’s gaze warms as he glances down at his wife. “Kerris makes this stone building almost bearable.”
“That’s wonder—” Something hard slams into my knee.
I’m not sure what I expect to see when I look down, but it’s certainly not a tiny white goat with two small horns protruding from its head.
Kerris’s laughter chimes as she scoops the bleating kid into her arms and turns toward where another Unseelie is thundering through the crowded garden.
The newcomer waves when he sees the goat in Kerris’s arms. He cuts straight through the guards to jog up the stairs, his glossy black hair swinging over his shoulders.
When his gaze meets mine, his steps falter, and he misses the top one. His long arms flail, barely catching himself on the railing. As he straightens, his mouth stretches into a wide smile.
Maddox Finch is the only Unseelie who offers them freely—along with an unobstructed view of his razor-sharp teeth.
It’s incredibly off-putting.
Teeth aside, no one should have that many muscles. They’re stacked on top of each other, from his thighs to his shoulders. It’s downright vulgar, and I cannot possibly imagine how awful it would feel to trace the dips and swells of each one.
Thank goodness I’ll never find out.
If I stare, it’s not because I’m unfaithful but because he never wears a shirt, which means his more-green-than-gray skin is always on full display for everyone to see. I’m not even sure any of the Unseelie own shirts except for Everett, and that’s only because he’s our king.
Taking the goat from Kerris, Maddox pats its wiry head while the little beast stares at me through googly blue eyes. It might be the ugliest creature I’ve ever seen.
Who brings a goat to a garden party?
Maddox Finch. That’s who.
I straighten my back, which brings the top of my head nearly to his square jaw. Given my height, I’m used to either looking men in the eye or looking down on them. It’s irritating to have to raise my head to see his face properly. “I didn’t know they allowed animals in the castle.”
Maddox’s brow furrows as he tickles the goat’s bearded chin. “Biscuits is well trained.” His deep, lilting voice is almost as disconcerting as his muscles.
He named his goat Biscuits? The man’s ridiculousness never ceases to amaze me.
The last time we ran into each other, he was in the market buying an armful of sweet corn.
I didn’t ask why, and he didn’t offer any explanation.
The time before that, he was hauling a three-legged chair down the castle stairs.
Ridiculous.
“I was talking about you,” I say with a smile.
Maddox’s own grin only grows. “Fear not, Nia Qill. I am well trained too.”
Everett rolls his eyes with a groan, while Kerris laughs behind her gloved hand.
It’s good to know someone finds him amusing.
Perhaps that’s why they keep him around, like a court jester of sorts.
All the other Unseelie chose to remain on their side of The Divide, but not Maddox.
He’s like Everett’s lapdog, waiting to do his bidding.
Not even a dog. An unruly puppy. It’s a wonder he’s not drooling all over the place.
“Don’t you think, Nia?” Kerris says, cutting through my internal musings.
The three of them—and the ugly goat—look on expectantly.
Another thing that happens when Maddox and I cross paths? He distracts me with his foolishness, and I find it difficult to focus on anything else, which is extremely inconvenient and makes me look foolish as well.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?”
Kerris sweeps a hand toward the other attendees stuffing their faces with desserts and champagne. “I only asked if you were enjoying the party.”
“Oh, yes. The party is wonderful.” Minus one guest.
The goat bleats.
Make that two.
“Did you choose the tablecloths?” I ask.
“I chose all of the décor.”
“It’s perfect.”
If I do get married in Rosehill, perhaps she would be willing to help me with the plans. Heaven knows she has more important things to do, but I’m not above begging. Anything to spite whatever Cordelia might have in store for me. My mother would never go against the queen herself.
Maddox’s shoulder bumps mine as he steps close enough for me to smell the goat nodding off in his arms. Or maybe the smell is coming from Maddox. It’s difficult to tell.
“Speaking of parties, when is the anniversary of your birth, Nia Quill?”
The way my stomach flutters has nothing to do with his proximity, but rather my own irritation. Happens far too often when this particular Unseelie is near.
Maddox asks the same question every time we meet. I still haven’t told him, mostly because I don’t want to get his hopes up. In addition to being an over-eager puppy, Maddox is infatuated with me.
That isn’t my ego talking, either.
The signs are all there, from the longing in his gaze to the way he practically vibrates with excitement when we’re beside each other. Yes, Maddox Finch believes himself in love with me, and I’m afraid he’ll do something reckless like propose to me on my twenty-fifth birthday.
Imagine Nolan’s rage then.
So I offer him the same answer I’ve given at least twenty times before. “Why do you want to know, Maddox Finch?”
Eyes as dark as his have no right to sparkle the way they do. “No reason.”
No reason, my foot. Part of me wishes he would come right out and confess his undying devotion so we could put the issue to rest once and for all.
I’m marrying Nolan. End of story.
It’s one thing to befriend Everett; he is Kerris’s husband, after all. Maddox, though? It’s best if he and I remain acquaintances. Nolan doesn’t need any more fuel for his “I despise all things Unseelie” fire.
“Her birthday is in August,” a syrupy voice says from behind me.
My shoulders tense as I swallow back a groan.
Now there are three beasts in our midst: Maddox, Biscuits, and Ivee Lynch.
Slowly, I turn to face the woman I’ve hated for longer than I’ve loved Nolan. What would the perfect canary curls twisted atop her head look like on fire?
The pink dress she’s wearing is so bright, it burns my eyes, and the sneer hidden beneath her fake smile makes me want to dump what remains of the champagne clutched between my fingers right over her insufferable head.
“Ivee. So lovely to see you.” It’d be even lovelier if she’d fall into the garden fountain and come out looking like a drowned cat. She’d probably hiss like one too.
“Always a pleasure, Nia.” Her nose wrinkles before she twists toward Kerris. “Queen Kerris, I want to thank you for inviting me to this lovely soiree. You have truly outdone yourself.”
“It was good of you to come, Ivee,” Kerris says with what looks like a genuine smile, which is madness because we hate Ivee.
When Ivee glances back to me, she no longer bothers trying to hide her sneer as her gaze oozes down my dress. “Is that the same gown you wore for Lillian’s twenty-first?”
Why must this wretched woman have such a damn good memory?
I open my mouth to cut her down, but Kerris’s hand on my elbow stops the vicious words from pouring out.
With a whip of candy-pink skirts, Ivee saunters back down the stairs.
That vile woman.
I should catch her by her gaudy diamond necklace and strangle her with it.
Channeling all my self-control, I take Kerris by the hand and tug her toward the castle’s open doors, saying I need to speak with her in private.
Kerris chuckles as she follows me into the shaded foyer. We stop between two marble pillars wrapped in twinkling lights. I’d tell her how lovely they are if I wasn’t feeling so murderous.
She holds up her hands. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Ivee bloody Lynch?” First my mother, then Nolan, and now this? They do say bad luck comes in threes.
“What was I supposed to do? Her father is a member of the royal council. We could hardly not invite her. Relations are tense enough as it is.”
I don’t envy Kerris trying to placate all the fae all the time—heaven knows I find it difficult enough to please my own mother—but this still feels like a betrayal.
“You could’ve at least warned me so I could have brought a weapon.” A few extra hair pins to stab her with or a mallet to drive into her smarmy face. This dress might not be as beautiful as the white and black one, but it does boast some very deep pockets.
“And have the guards arrest you on suspicion of violence? I should think not.”
It wouldn’t be suspicion. I’d gladly spend a night in a cell if it meant humiliating that awful woman.
“Are you ever going to tell me why you hate her so much?”
Kerris has asked before, but the timing never seemed quite right . . . until now. Today is the day she learns the depth of Ivee’s treachery. “That witch is a liar and a thief.”
“Well, now I have to know the sordid details.”
Then details she shall have. “Third year, we had a baking competition. She stole my pie, swapped it with her own, and took home my blue ribbon.”
Kerris blinks at me slowly, so horrified by the terrible story that she’s having difficulty processing Ivee’s terrible past.
“You despise her because she stole your pie back in finishing school?”
That wasn’t all she took from me. “She also stole my first love.”
Her brow furrows. “I thought Nolan was your first love.”
“No. He’s my second. Jonathan was the headmaster’s son.
I used to sneak out and meet him by the pond.
” He had the prettiest green eyes, and he could recite poetry at the drop of a hat.
I’d never met anyone as intelligent or as whimsical as Jonathan.
He made all those awkward years of transitioning into womanhood almost bearable. Certainly more exciting.
Lilac waves spill over sun-kissed shoulders as Kerris’s head tilts. “You never mentioned someone named Jonathan.”
Because it’s mortifying to admit that I wasn’t enough to hold his affection. The moment Ivee swanned in with her luscious curves and beautiful hair, I didn’t stand a bloody chance. “A week before graduation, I went to the pond and caught Ivee necking with him instead.”
Kerris’s lips press into a thin line.
“What’s that face about?”
“Don’t get mad.”
Always a sure sign I’m about to do just that.
She brushes back her hair with a flick of her fingers.
“It’s just . . . It sounds like the person you should have been mad at was Jonathan.
If he cared for you the way you cared for him, he wouldn’t have been tempted to go off with anyone else.
Even if Ivee showed up in your stead, he shouldn’t have been kissing her. ”
How dare she try to find reason in this situation.
Can’t she see I’m still angry?
The drama with Jonathan aside: “She still stole my pie.”
“Nia?” Kerris gives my arms a tender squeeze. “I think it’s time to let it go.”
I’ll let it go when Ivee Lynch gives me back my bloody blue ribbon.