Chapter 15
“A problem shared is a problem solved.”
— A Seelie Guide to Happiness
After three long days without my cousin, Kerris finally sends word that she has returned to Rosehill.
I cannot get to the castle fast enough. The moment I step into the grand parlor, she stands from the settee.
I’m not sure whose arms wrap around who first. All that matters is that we’re hugging and she’s finally, blessedly home where she belongs.
“It’s about damn time you came back. It feels like you’ve been gone forever.” Next time she leaves, I’m going with her. No exceptions.
Heaven knows I would’ve been better off escaping to Applewood than remaining here, fighting this irrational desire to spend all my spare time with Maddox.
I’ve lost count of how often I had to stop myself from visiting the castle gardens since our little foray into the fountain. Even on my way here, I was this close to stopping by his wagon before coming to see Kerris.
Not only have my thoughts been plagued by the man, but also he has begun to haunt my dreams. Last night, I woke up drenched in sweat, strangled by my sheets, panting his name.
Kerris tries to pull out of my embrace, but I refuse to let her go. Not until she agrees to save me from myself.
Her huff of laughter is a balm to my weary soul. “Someone’s feeling awfully dramatic. It’s only been three days.”
“Three days too many.” I haven’t had anyone to talk to—unless you count Maddox, which I don’t because he’s the one I want to talk about.
“Ever said the same thing.”
I’m sure he did. Thank goodness her husband is meeting with the Unseelie leader today; otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen my cousin for at least another week.
I tighten my hold. “Then it’s settled. You’re never leaving Rosehill again.”
“If I agree, will you let me breathe?”
“I suppose.” Wouldn’t want to suffocate the queen.
“Fine. I won’t leave Rosehill again. For a while.”
That will have to do.
Reluctantly, I let her go and join her on the settee, where a fine set of dainty, gilded-edge teacups wait next to two healthy slices of apple crumble.
She hands me a lace serviette, and I stretch the starched fabric across my lap. “How are Theo and Cora?” I ask, determined to make small talk before blurting out my own woes.
“As adorable as ever. I never thought I’d see my brother so smitten.” She fills my cup and then her own with hot, fragrant black tea. “Cora hangs on his every word, and Theo dotes on her as he should.”
It’s lovely to be reminded that there is still happiness out there, even though I’ve yet to find my own.
Kerris nudges my shoulder. “How was your date with Maddox?”
There’s no sense pointing out that it technically wasn’t a date.
She will only needle me about protesting too much for my argument to hold any truth.
Instead, I take a different approach, one that hopefully won’t reveal this unhealthy obsession I’ve unwittingly acquired.
“Surprisingly enjoyable. Turns out Maddox isn’t completely intolerable. ”
Her mouth drops open, and I take her momentary shock as an opportunity to pop a bit of crumble between her parted lips. “We’re talking about Maddox Finch, correct? The Maddox you—and I quote—‘cannot stand because he has too many muscles.’ That Maddox?”
I shrug. “You get used to the muscles after a while.”
“This is . . .” She blows out a breath, her head shaking as she stares at me, bits of crumble falling onto the serviette on her lap. “Most unexpected.”
That is the understatement of the year.
“What did you even talk about? The two of you have almost nothing in common.”
Excuse me? We have plenty in common. Like our mutual love of blueberry pie, for instance. And our . . .
Our . . .
It doesn’t matter. Kerris and Everett have nothing in common either, and they make it work. Not that I’m trying to make anything “work” with Maddox, since he’s in love with someone else.
“We talked about the woman in his clan he is hoping to marry.” A woman I’ve begun to despise on principle alone.
I take a bite of my own dessert, chewing while my heart twists uncomfortably against my ribs.
Her brow furrows as she uses the side of her fork to break off another slice. “An Unseelie woman?”
“That’s right.” Tell me she’s awful. That she doesn’t deserve him. That his friends despise her.
“Are you certain?”
“Quite. Why?”
“I’m just surprised, is all. He’s made no effort to hide his feelings for you.
It’s a shock to hear he’s given up entirely and moved on to another.
Doesn’t seem like him.” She sets down her fork in favor of her teacup.
The steam curls around her pursed lips. “Ever said when they were little, they once caught Maddox bringing acorns to a squirrel long after it was dead, ‘just in case.’”
Maddox has such a hopeful heart, I can imagine him doing just that. Makes me like him even more, which was not the goal here.
“Perhaps he’s being secretive.” Maybe he doesn’t want to say anything in case things don’t work out. Who can blame him? I’m doing the same by not telling Kerris about my own relationship.
“Maddox?” She snorts. “I know what the man ate for dinner last night, how many clouds resembled Biscuits since I’ve been gone, and that I’m to avoid venturing into the southeast corner of the garden because sometimes he relieves himself there. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.”
I never realized they were that close.
“Did he tell you that we went to Madame Ella’s together?” Or that we spent a magical afternoon drinking wine and hiding beneath the shade of a golden willow?
Her cup rattles the saucer when she sets it down. “You did? Why?”
The real question is, why would he want to keep our friendship a secret from his closest friends? “So he could buy his woman a gift,” I say, mulling over all that Kerris has revealed.
Not long ago, I was also convinced that Maddox harbored feelings for me, but he laughed when I came right out and suggested it. Told me I was too “small” for him.
Now that I think about it, the argument doesn’t really stand up, does it? Look at Kerris and Everett; the top of her head barely reaches her husband’s shoulder. Mine is at least to Maddox’s chin.
This isn’t proof by any means, but it does make me wonder.
Kerris taps her lips. “Did he tell you this woman’s name?”
“It’s . . .” Has he mentioned her name? If so, I can’t remember. “No, actually. But I haven’t asked him either.” Something I’ll remedy the next time we meet.
I mull it over with another bite of crumble.
Kerris flops back against the cushions, her hands falling to her stomach with a groan. I know exactly how she feels. This dessert is quite filling.
“Enough about Maddox,” she says. “Let’s talk about your birthday. I assume you collected your dress?”
“I did.” With Maddox.
“And?”
“And it’s beautiful.” Although I’ve no longing to wear it now that I’ve no one to propose to, which is silly. Turning twenty-five is a milestone in and of itself; not every fae has found their partner by that point in their lives. Look at Maddox. He’s thirty and only just found someone.
I should be fine with only celebrating my birthday, but I’m not. Nothing feels “fine” about the situation.
What’s even the point of having a party, especially knowing everyone will be expecting Nolan to show up? When he doesn’t, they’re bound to start asking questions and ruin the entire night.
I give up eating and press myself deeper into the thick floral cushions propped around me. What a bloomin’ disaster.
Kerris stretches her legs over my knees, and her head falls back. “I was thinking we could have something here in the castle gardens and invite all your friends.”
That would certainly make my mother happy.
Cordelia would love nothing more than to rub it in all the other mothers’ faces that her daughter’s birthday is being held in the glorious Castle Rose.
Me, on the other hand? I think that sounds like torture.
“What if we had something more intimate instead?”
“Really?” Kerris sits up a little straighter, her eyes narrowing.
“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “I feel like I’ll be dragged from pillar to post greeting people I barely speak to anymore and not have any time to truly enjoy myself.”
Thankfully, that seems to appease her. “It’s your birthday; we can do whatever you want.”
If that’s the case, I’ll just stay cooped up in my room with a bottle of wine so I can drown my problems and then hate myself the next morning.
“Who would you want to invite?” she asks.
“Maybe just you and Everett and my parents.” Cordelia will be livid.
Perhaps there’s a light in the darkness, after all.
“Maddox can come too if he wants.” Assuming he’s not busy with his Unseelie woman.
He would probably insist on bringing Biscuits as well.
The idea doesn’t irritate me as much as it might’ve a week ago.
Imagine if the goat started eating Cordelia’s skirts. That’d be a sure way to steal the attention from me. Maybe I should give Biscuits his own invitation.
Kerris rolls her ankle, bumping my stomach with her foot. “Don’t forget Nolan.”
Oh, heavens. I did forget Nolan, didn’t I?
“Of course Nolan will be there.” Except he won’t.
I haven’t seen him since the quarry—not that I’m complaining. There’s no point rehashing the past when he won’t be part of my future.
Speaking of futures, I really should try to meet some new men to cure me of my current infatuation.
Unfortunately, Rosehill isn’t as large as it seems when it comes to the dating pool.
Everyone talks, and the moment I show genuine interest in someone else, word is bound to spread like locusts, and then the questions will start.
Why should I be expected to explain such a private matter to mere acquaintances?
My love life—or lack thereof—is no one’s damn business.
Maybe I should see if Theo and Cora want a guest for a few months. Applewood seems a nice enough place. I can hide until the scandal blows over and maybe even meet someone who doesn’t know me or Nolan or anyone else in my circle.
Kerris takes my hand in hers, giving my fingers a squeeze. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is wonderful.” Except for my smile. That feels almost brittle. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Her lips flatten into a disapproving line. “I’m going to pretend like I believe you. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here to listen.”
One of the many reasons to love Kerris. She doesn’t pressure me to speak when I’m not ready.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Honestly, I’m fine. But I should be getting home. Mother is baking pies for . . . um . . . for a sick neighbor, and she will not be pleased if she has to do all the work herself.”
If Kerris knows it’s a lie, she doesn’t say. She drops her feet to the thick carpet and pulls me in for a one-armed hug. I promise to give her regards to my mother and then leave through the castle’s main entrance.
On the way out, I meet Maddox by the gates, his goat trotting along beside him on a lead like a mangey, horned, bug-eyed dog.
Seeing him resurrects my smile, even though it shouldn’t. Curse this heart of mine for wanting things not meant for me.
I come to a stop far enough away that I don’t have to smell the goat.
The corners of Maddox’s smile pull a little higher. “Nia Quill. You are looking shiny as a fresh blade this day.” His gaze flicks to the castle at my back before returning to me. “Were you visiting your cousin?”
“I was. I told her about our lunch the other day, and she asked about the Unseelie you’re courting.”
His shoulders stiffen, and the color drains from his face, setting off warning bells in my own head.
“Do you know what I just realized? I never asked you her name.”
He blinks at me as he shifts Biscuits’s lead from one hand to the other, wrapping the leather cord around his white-knuckled fist. “Whose name?”
“The Unseelie fae you’re hoping to propose to.”
There’s more blinking and a drag of sharp teeth over his lower lip. It’s not that difficult a question.
Unless there is no Unseelie woman.
From the way he’s stalling, that’s looking increasingly likely.
His spine straightens. “Her name is Gia.”
I’m going to pretend to believe him. “Does she have a surname?”
“Of course. It’s Gia . . . Gill.”
The man is lying.
What’s more, he’s terrible at it.
Gia bloody Gill? He cannot expect me to believe that he’s in love with an Unseelie fae whose name happens to rhyme with mine.
Does he think I’m a fool?
“I would love to meet her,” I say, waiting for him to confess the truth: that Gia Gill doesn’t exist. That he’s been wasting my time and his over a pointless task.
That he’s been so charming and kind, making me care for him and long for his presence when that’s the last thing I want. The last thing I need.
Wide eyes fly to mine. “You would?”
“Yes. I can tell her what a wonderful man you are, that she would be lucky to have you as a mate. Then she would be sure to choose you.”
His throat bobs when he swallows. “You would do that for me?”
“Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
For some reason, that makes him frown. Probably because you don’t lie to your friends.
You lied to Kerris about Nolan.
That was different. That lie was about self-preservation. This lie is . . . I don’t even know what it is. What does Maddox gain by lying to me about some fictional love interest?
Not a damn thing, as far as I can tell.
“I will see if she can meet you,” he says quietly.
What’s he going to do? Paint Biscuits green and bring him to lunch?
“I can’t wait.” I’m about to move past him when I realize home is the last place I want to go. What am I going to do? Spend all afternoon stewing in my room? No, thank you.
I whirl and head back into the castle.
At this point, there are three things of which I’m certain.
One: There is no Gia Gill.
Two: I need a drink.
Three: This warmth spreading through my chest should be indignation. Instead, it feels like relief.