Niamh turned, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The irony of it all,” she said through gasps. “I had everything I ever wanted in that tower, then you came and destroyed it and told me about this magical castle, and it was actually real. This place actually exists and is even better than my tower, but it doesn’t matter, because any day now, it could just disappear me. Decide I’m not worthy enough to get the golden key.”
Cillian raised a finger. “You actually have some time.”
She started pacing, laughter now gone. “I would’ve been better off going my own way. Instead I got my hopes up. I believed everything would be okay. I started dreaming of a life here.” She turned to Cillian. “I actually thought it might not be so bad to marry you.”
Cillian shot her a dazzling smile, and she glared at him in response.
“I’m a fool. A complete and utter fool. And now I have to break this news to Morton, and he’s going to tell me?—”
I grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “You can make the castle accept you.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth snapped shut. She opened her mouth a few times before she finally got words out. “Make it accept me?” Her gaze shifted to Cillian for confirmation, and he gave a curt nod.
She swallowed thickly. “How do I do that?”
Cillian shot her his winningest smile, the smile he used when he was delivering bad news but trying to make it sound good. “That’s the fun part of this all. No one knows.”
She stared unblinking for a moment. “Then how do I get it to accept me?”
“Think of it like a game,” Cillian said, “where you get to explore the castle, let it get to know you while you get to know it, and you get to have fun in the process.”
“Fun?” she screeched, and Cillian winced. The flowers behind himjolted, then hissed their displeasure. Niamh took a deep breath but sent Cillian a scathing look. “You think it’ll be fun for me to be here, falling more in love with this magical little paradise day after day while, at any moment, I might just”—she flailed her hands in the air, and a tree branch that hung over her head lifted to avoid getting hit—“poof. Disappear.”
“You might not disappear.” Cillian raised a finger. “And you’ll get to see my handsome face every day.”
Niamh let out a frustrated groan and faced my brother, fire sparking in her eyes that I liked seeing. All Niamh had shown so far was fear, but I saw the courage in her as she stood up for herself.
Cillian’s eyes widened in shock. “I can go with you to explore if you’re worried.”
“Of course I’m worried.” She threw up her arms.
“No,” I said, and both of them turned to me. “She needs to do this on her own. If you go with her, the castle can’t get to know her. It’ll be catering to you, its high prince.”
“How much time do I have?” Niamh asked, straightening, looking regal. Looking like a future queen.
“Six weeks,” Cillian said. “That’s when all my previous brides have disappeared. Six weeks.”
“Well, I better get going,” Niamh grumbled. She began to walk through the garden, and all the plants straightened and bent backward to get out of her way.
Cillian reached out and grabbed her arm. “So dinner tonight?” He waggled his eyebrows. “In my private quarters?”
Niamh glared at him. “I think I’ll get my own dinner.”
“You can’t stay mad at me forever,” Cillian said.
“But I can try.” She turned and stalked away, leaving me alone with my younger brother.
“I like her,” Cillian said, watching Niamh zigzag through the garden and toward the castle.
Of course he did. She was bubbly and bright and unaware, just like him. “If only she liked you back.”
“Is that a challenge?” Cillian turned to me.
“No,” I said flatly. “She’s been through enough already. No need to make her another conquest.”
Cillian pressed his hands to his chest. “You wound me. I haven’t been a playboy since I became high prince.”
“Just... keep getting to know her. And let her get to know the real you.”
