Cillian stared at me as Niamh walked down the hill, disappearing into the distance. Damnit. I hadn’t meant for us to fall asleep together. I definitely hadn’t meant to like it, to wake up feeling like I was sleeping on a fucking cloud instead of the hard ground.
“Well, that was interesting,” Cillian said.
“Why?” I kicked some dirt over the fire to put out the glowing embers.
“I’ve just never seen you get so close to anyone. It seems like Niamh might bring out some sunshine after all.”
I jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare start calling me that.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bad thing, Wolfe.” He paused. “Mother says hi, by the way.”
“I’ll visit her soon,” I said, wincing.
“You say that every month.”
I finished covering the embers and turned around towalk toward my cabin. “And every month I get busy. We see each other at the castle.”
“You’re not that busy.” Cillian trailed after me.
I whirled to face him. “Is there something you need?”
He stared at me. “I walked through town alone this morning. Aren’t you going to scold me?”
I blinked a few times, letting his words settle. I hadn’t even noticed. The high prince had left the castle and was by himself with no one to protect him, and I hadn’t noticed.
I pushed a hand through my hair, knowing exactly why I hadn’t noticed. I’d been distracted by a woman I had no right being distracted by.
“What if there had been an attack?” I glared at Cillian, and the bastard was smiling.
“There wasn’t. Also, you do know that I am trained to use a sword. Lor wasn’t the only one you mentored.”
The name was a gut punch, a reminder of why I had to be so focused.
“The attacks are happening more often,” I said through gritted teeth. “You can’t just roam around on your own, Cillian. You have to think of others. Of your kingdom.”
He threw out his arms. “That’s all I think of. Why do you think I brought Niamh here?” He shot me a curious look. “Though I’m starting to think the castle wants her for something else.”
I had no idea what that meant, but my brain was still stuck on Cillian’s idiocy. “You’re not to wander again. If I have to, I’ll move into the castle.”
Cillian barked out a laugh. “No you won’t. You hate people too much.”
That wasn’t true. At least there was one person I didn’t hate, which was the entire problem.
“Hey.” Cillian stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine. You seem grumpier than usual, which is definitely saying something.”
My fists clenched at my sides. “I said I’m fine.”
He sighed heavily, and in the moment, it looked like the entire weight of Fairwitch Isle sat on my brother’s shoulders. I looked at Cillian, really looked at him, noticed the bags under his eyes, the few strands of hair out of place, the gold shirt he was wearing for the second day in a row, slightly wrinkled.
Had he been up all night working? Worrying? I had no idea because he didn’t tell me anything anymore. I’d lost that right, I supposed, but I found myself saying, “Are you okay lately? Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“I don’t want to talk about me right now.” He peered at me from underneath the long lashes that women went wild over.
Right. Cillian had our mother, his father, Nevan, advisers, and Niamh. He could talk to any of them. He didn’t need his fucked-up older brother trying to give him advice when I didn’t even have a hold over my own life.
