Chapter 8
“Choose carefully who you allow to enter your life, and even more carefully who you allow to stay.”
— A Seelie Guide to Happiness
Wine is the elixir of death and nothing good can come from drinking it.
This is what I want printed on my tombstone when I die—which feels like it might be sooner rather than later.
Massaging my fingers against my pounding temples, I blink through the fuzziness to assess last night’s damage.
My poor hair is completely matted on one side, and my dress looks like someone stabbed me in the heart.
When did I spill that much wine? Must’ve been sometime between finishing my list and Everett ushering me into the royal carriage.
Not even a long soak in the tub and a fresh gown make me feel better. I barely survive the trip down the stairs to the kitchen, where my mother bustles from the oven to the cooling rack stacked with fresh chocolate biscuits.
Exactly what I need to rid myself of this wretched—
The baking sheet lands on the counter with an ear-splitting clang. “You were home late.”
Good morning to you too, Cordelia. “I stayed at the castle longer than expected.”
The disapproval vanishes from her features. Apparently, it’s only unacceptable to get drunk with commoners. Does she ever tire of judging everyone so harshly?
“How is my dearest niece, the queen?”
Likely very hungover. I stopped drinking when the second bottle was empty, but Kerris decided to break out a third. She is not going to enjoy the journey to Applewood with all those winding roads and potholes. Thank heavens I didn’t agree to join her.
A heavy knock at the front door sets my head pounding anew. Mother hurries out while I fill a glass from the tap. Hopefully, our healing water can rid me of this splitting pain in my head.
A scream tears through the room, followed by silence.
I drop the glass into the sink and race into the hallway only to come to a skidding halt.
Maddox kneels on the tiles, clutching my mother’s lifeless body against his bare chest. Worried black eyes rise to mine. “Your mother has died once again.”
“I can see that.” I really don’t have the patience to deal with this nonsense today. “You know what to do.”
He lifts her into his arms and carries her into the living room like she weighs no more than the air around us.
It’s a dance they’ve done the three other times they’ve met as well. She pretends to faint so she doesn’t have to speak to the Unseelie, and he worries for hours afterward that my mother might actually be dead.
This is why I asked him to meet me outside. Although, I must admit, it’s nice to not hear any snide comments about my dress or hair or my decision to steal a biscuit before we leave.
Maddox meets me in the foyer, his brow crushed with concern as he glances back toward the living room.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine,” I assure him.
On my way out, I retrieve the list from my cloak pocket and follow him into the ungodly bright day.
For a moment, I consider returning for my parasol but decide against it.
There is an off chance that my mother has recovered from her faint, and if that is the case, she will surely have an entire monologue prepared regarding my choice of companion for the day.
Best to delay that lecture until the evening, once she has had some time to bake off her rage and my hangover has dissipated.
Who knows? Perhaps I’ll get lucky and she’ll be well into her own bottle of wine before I return.
Maddox opens the white gate, allowing me past.
He’s more reserved than usual, making no attempt to fill the silence with random comments about the shape of the clouds or the sound of the bees, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Not that it matters since I’m only here to assist him, not to grow closer. Might as well get on with our business.
“Last night, I made a list of all the things that should help you win your Unseelie’s heart.” Holding out the paper, I wait for him to take it.
For some reason, this makes Maddox frown. It’s strange seeing the expression on his normally smiling lips. It makes him look like all the other Unseelie fae.
I’m not sure I like it.
Again, not that it matters.
He takes the paper and slowly unfolds the sheet. Midnight eyes dart back and forth across the page. “Tell her she is beautiful. Always hold her—”
My face heats at the sound of his deep, lilting voice speaking the words I wrote. “You don’t need to read them out loud.” In fact, I’d prefer he didn’t. The list is for him to study and take to heart when he’s alone—and I’m well out of earshot.
He scans the paper in silence as we make our way toward town. The biscuit did nothing to soak up the alcohol swimming in my gut. I need some proper food—and fast.
Maddox comes to a halt in front of the apothecary, sweeping a large hand through his dark hair. “What if I do all of these and she still does not wish to be my mate?”
“Then perhaps you’re not meant to be together.” Sometimes, what we want more than anything doesn’t work out. “This shouldn’t go only one way, Maddox. She should be as enamored with you as you are with her.” He deserves that much. Everyone does.
A nod. “You have given me much to think about.” He turns as if he’s about to leave me on my own in the middle of the street.
I should’ve added “never abandon her” to the list. “Where are you going?”
Maddox glances from the folded paper to me and back again.
Realization strikes like lighting. Clearly, he wants to put my advice into practice right this moment.
He’s going to tell her she is beautiful.
To listen to her hopes and dreams. To give her his sharp-toothed smiles.
When was the last time someone was that anxious to see me?
I doubt Nolan would’ve gone through this much trouble to win me over. If we hadn’t clicked from the beginning, he would’ve simply moved on to the next woman, just like the others I’ve been with.
Am I really so disposable?
Does it make me pathetic that I don’t want Maddox to leave just yet?
Good thing I’m too hungover to care.
“Would you like to eat before you go?” I nod toward the café up the road. “LaMonte has exceptional blueberry pie.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. Maybe I have. After all, I just brought up a conversation we had the night we first met. A conversation that, from the way his brow furrows, he doesn’t even remember.
“At Beltane, when Kerris gave Everett that pie, you said you preferred blueberry.”
Why did I bother explaining? He clearly has no recollection of the flirtatious exchange.
Maddox folds the list and slips the paper into his trouser pocket. “All right, Nia Quill. I will try this pie and see if it is truly as exceptional as you say.”
How sad is it that my heart does a happy leap inside my chest because he’s choosing to stay with me? Only for a little longer, sure, but I’ll take the victory.
Heaven knows I’m due one.
The café is as crowded as I’ve ever seen it, with nearly every table full of fae enjoying tea and desserts. The hostess brings us to a table beside a fuchsia bush, its vibrant purple and magenta flowers drooping toward the lacy tablecloth.
Maddox settles into the chair across from me, and our knees bump beneath the table. I never realized how small the tables here really are, a fact only made more apparent when he flattens his gigantic hands on the lace.
Kerris’s comment from last night brings a flush to my face.
Bloomin’ wine.
“Maddox?” A fae with red hair leans toward him from her seat at an adjacent table. I recognize her from the quarry.
Talk about poor luck.
She’s petite—something I’ve never been called—and she seems so bloomin’ happy. Probably because she hasn’t wasted the last four years of her life on someone who no longer loves her.
Maddox smiles at her but says nothing.
The woman presses a hand to her large chest. Something else I lack. “Amber. We met at the quarry, remember?”
Maddox’s eyes widen along with his smile. “Oh, yes. Amber. Hello.”
Why doesn’t he say her surname? Surely he should be using hers as well, especially seeing as they only just met.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” she says with a grating giggle.
“This is my first time. Nia Quill invited me.”
Nia Quill. Not just Nia. For some reason, the distinction rankles. Perhaps I shouldn’t have invited him after all. Being alone would’ve been better than being a third wheel. I force a smile and greet Amber with a nod. It’s not her fault I’m starting to despise her. “Hello.”
“Nice to meet you, Nia.” Amber’s fingers brush Maddox’s. “I’ll let you enjoy your lunch. I just wanted to say hello. Next time you’re in Rosehill, you should call over. I live just down the street in Birdview Cottage.”
She pushes back into her chair and lifts her teacup to her painted lips. The woman with her leans close, and together, they erupt into a fit of whispers while casting meaningful glances toward my companion.
I force my jaw to unclench so this headache doesn’t get any worse. “It’s too bad you aren’t interested in Seelie fae. That one is dying to mate with you.”
Maddox doesn’t give Amber so much as a second glance. “I am not interested in that one.”
Because he cares for someone across The Divide, you fool!
“Welcome to Café LaMonte,” the waitress says, her gaze fully fixed on Maddox. I might as well not even be sitting here. Looks like Amber isn’t the only one interested in my Unseelie friend. She hands him a menu, then tosses one in my direction like an afterthought.
Maddox hands the menu right back. “I would like blueberry pie, please.”
“An excellent choice,” she chirps.
“I’ll have the same.” Not that she asked.
The waitress leaves us, and I catch Maddox frowning at me as if he can hear all the irrational, jealous thoughts spinning through my mind.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I grumble.
“You said blueberries were your least favorite fruit.”
He must be confusing me with someone else, because I love blueberries. “I never said that.”
“Yes, you did. At the Beltane festival.”
My stomach flips. That’s right, I did say that. Didn’t mean it, though.
He remembers.
Not that it matters when I’m trying to help him win someone else’s heart.