I set him down gently. “Thank you for trying to spare my feelings, but it’s always the right time to tell me good news like this.”
“I told him he should tell you about the key, for what it’s worth,”Margaret whispered from a nearby painting, and I twisted in my seat to look between her and Morton.
“You told Margaret?” I asked.
“Well, maybe you were right about people not being so bad,” he mumbled. “She’s grown on me a bit. Some of her stories are interesting.”
“You mean gossip,” I pointed out, and he gave me a look.
“I’m so happy for you, Morton.” I paused. “Can you handle the desk for a little while? I think I need to get some air.”
Morton nodded, brows knitting together as I stood and walked out of the library and into the hallway, mulling over our conversation.
“Niamh, did you hear the news?” I jumped to see Margaret in the painting on the wall.
I kept walking, and Margaret jumped to the next painting, following me.
“I don’t know if I can take any more news right now,” I said. “I’m taking a walk to clear my head.”
She jumped into the next painting. “Oh, but this is big news.”
“Margaret, now is not the time?—”
“Wolfe and the high prince got into a huge fight last night, and the high prince punched Wolfe!”
I stiffened. When had that happened? Before or after Wolfe had kissed me? It had been dark in the library, all the lights flickering out, and I’d been so disoriented and shocked by that kiss that I hadn’t taken in any details.
Why had Cillian punched Wolfe?
“I saw the whole thing,” Margaret said with glee. “Not that I’m happy about it. I don’t condone violence of any kind. They were shouting at each other, and Nevan was trying to get between them. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but they were both very angry.”
My hand floated to my mouth. I hoped the fight hadn’t been about me. I’d never want to get between the brothers. Oh, godwitches. What if Wolfe and Cillian never spoke again and it was my fault?
“And apparently, this morning, Wolfe left.”
Icy cold threaded through my veins. “What? Left what?”
“Fairwitch Isle.” Margaret sighed, putting a hand to her head. “He was never particularly pleasant, but I’m going to miss that glower.”
“No.” I backed away from the wall. “He wouldn’t just leave Fairwitch Isle, leave Cillian.” Leave me. All the hope I’d been feeling this morning drained away. “You’re wrong. You must be wrong.”
Margaret frowned. “Oh dear. I’ve upset you.” She twined her hands together. “I thought you might like to know that he’s gone is all, but my delivery was completely wrong.” Her eyes welled with tears.
“It’s okay, Margaret. I appreciate you telling me.”
Morton slithered into the hallway. “What is going on out here?”
“Wolfe left,” I said, voice shaking. “Margaret said he left Fairwitch Isle this morning.”
“Oh, that idiot,” Morton said. “Well, apparently, my chat with him didn’t get through his thick skull like I’d hoped.”
“Your chat?”
Morton blinked. “I might’ve gone to visit him early this morning after he made you cry last night.”
“You didn’t.” I put a hand on the wall, steadying myself. “What did you say?”
“I might’ve mentioned he didn’t deserve you.”
