Such a different outlook compared to the Seelie fae, who drink in excess and leave behind far too much food. We’re wasteful by nature. If the sparse vegetation I can see from here is any indication of what lies on this side of The Divide, there doesn’t seem to be as muchtowaste.
“No box of food tonight, Kerris Dawn?” Maddox calls from his seat by the fire.
In my excitement to leave the house, the thought of bringing biscuits hadn’t even crossed my mind. “I’ll bring you some next time.”
Maddox’s bark of laughter only seems to make Everett’s scowl deepen. Even Gryffin is almost smiling.
“Please, do not do that,” Everett says through a grimace, his quiet plea almost lost to another round of laughter from Maddox. There is clearly something happening between them, but when I ask what it is, Everett rolls his lips together and his friends fall silent.
Did they not like the biscuits? Are they making fun of me? The heat of embarrassment washes over me.
But then Everett’s thigh grazes my skirt, and I’m warm for an entirely different reason.
“How old were you when you lost your mother?” he asks in a quiet voice.
“Five.”
His expression softens, soothing my raw heart. “My mother passed when I was five as well.”
“So, you’re not born of shadows and darkness, after all?”
The corners of his lips lift. “I am afraid not.”
Who would have thought that Everett and I would have such a tragedy in common? Perhaps that’s why I feel so drawn to him, because we have both suffered and have come out on the other side of loss different than before.
That’s something the so-called experts on these matters never tell you. When you lose someone you love, the years don’t fully heal you; they only give you longer respites between bouts of insurmountable grief.
“What about your father?” I ask.
The warmth in Everett’s eyes vanishes. “The elders exiled him from camp, and he did not survive long after being cut off from their resources.”
What could he possibly have done that was awful enough to warrant such a harsh punishment? As intrigued as I am, the shadows in Everett’s eyes leave me swallowing my question.
He shakes his head, as if dispelling the bad memories. “What about your father?”
Ronan’s voice cuts through my mind, unbidden.Tell them he’s something respectable. Like an accountant.
I didn’t lie to the king and queen; why would I lie now? “My father is a goat farmer.”
Everett doesn’t tell me I’m beneath him. He doesn’t make me feel less. He gives me one of his almost-smiles and says, “He must be proud of raising such a good female.”
Such simple words, yet they mean more than he could ever know.
“I hope so.”
Maddox hurls a stone toward The Divide. “I ate a goat once.”
Gryffin snorts. “You did not.”
“Did too.”
“When?”
“A few years ago. You were not there.”
Everett’s quiet chuckle makes my stomach flip. “Neither was the goat.”
23
