He snorted. “I don’t have friends.”
I stood and straightened the skirt of my dress. “Uh-huh, you just keep telling yourself that, sunshine.”
CHAPTER 22
Wolfe
Niamh walked down the hill after our latest training session. She’d improved so much since I started training her a month ago. I’d worried that after the dragon wasp attack last week, I’d ruined whatever friendship we had, but Niamh had been her usual chatty self, and what’s more, I liked it. I liked her daily visits. I liked sparring with her. I liked talking to her, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, but I also didn’t want to cross any lines.
I ignored the voice that whispered I’d already crossed a line. That hadn’t been my fault. I wasn’t in my right mind that day in the library. I’d been back in the place I ended up after Lor was taken, and I hadn’t been thinking clearly. Obviously.
That was why I’d told Niamh the story afterward, hoping she would understand that I never meant to make her uncomfortable. She was betrothed to my brother, and I had no fanciful notions that she’d ever prefer me. Not that I wanted her to prefer me—I didn’t. I wasn’t fit for any kind of relationship.
I looked down to see the green scarf she’d worn today lying in thegrass and picked it up, bringing it to my nose and inhaling the familiar scent of rose. Fuck. She’d left it, and she was always cold here, with the brisk wind and chilly temperatures.
She probably had other scarves, but what if she didn’t? What if she needed this one for later? I arched my neck, looking for her figure, but she’d already disappeared, was probably back in her room by now.
I shoved a hand through my hair and swore under my breath. I’d take it to her, and then I’d check on Cillian. He’d mentioned wanting to make a trip to the Ceri’s shop today, so I needed to get to the castle anyway to accompany him.
I’d stop by Niamh’s room on the way there and return the damn scarf.
I marched down the hill and toward the castle, scarf clutched in my hand, the fabric so soft against my skin. I was itching to smell it again, inhale that fresh rose scent that made me dizzy every damn time. I got to the bottom of the hill and wove my way through town. It was a quick walk since no one had any interest in talking to me. I arrived at the front of the castle quickly enough, still holding the scarf.
“Hey! That’s Niamh’s scarf.” Barty pointed to it.
Most couldn’t tell the difference between the gargoyles, but Barty had a small chunk of his earlobe missing, not that I’d ever reveal that, since it would just cause more bickering between the twin statues.
“She gets cold without it,” Tal added.
“That’s what I just said.” Barty turned his head toward Tal.
Here we went. I glared at the overhang, willing it to fall on top of the damn statues.
“No, you said it was Niamh’s scarf.”
“Yes, and that’s literally the entire point of a scarf,” Barty said. “What you said was redundant.”
“Can you two just open the fucking doors before I yank them off their hinges?” I barked.
Barty put his hand up over his mouth, speaking behind it like I couldn’t hear him. “He’s testy.”
Tal nodded. “Very. Then again, he’s always testy. I don’t think we should open the doors for him after how rude he’s been.”
“I agree.”
Both gargoyles crossed their arms, and I rolled my eyes and wrenched the doors open myself, heading up the stairs and toward Niamh’s tower.
“Wolfe!” a feminine voice said. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time. Oh, I feel like we have so much to catch up on!” I grimaced, turning to the painting of Margaret.
She beamed at me from behind the frame, just as I remembered, with her sleek black hair plaited in a braid, her golden skin dewy, and those angular eyes full of constant secrets she couldn’t wait to spill.
“You’re here,” I said.
“Niamh found me! I was stuck in that hallway near the library. I bet you all were so worried when I disappeared, but now I’m back and better than ever. I overhear a lot, too, so if you ever need any news, you come to me.”
I arched a brow. “You mean gossip.”
She put her hand to her chest. “Oh no. I don’t gossip. I just stay informed and seek to make sure everyone else is informed as well.” She gasped. “Speaking of staying informed, two of the servants are currently in a fight because one of them told the other that her hairstyle was ugly. I’m of two minds about this. On the one hand, what a callous thing to say to say friend. On the other, her hairstyle really was so dreadful, with all those tight ringlets that made her look like some sort of?—”
