“Don’t be daft. He is nothing like me.”
First, I’m ignorant and now I’m daft. Why am I still standing here, letting this small-minded man call me names? “Perhaps that is why I am so taken by him.”
His jaw hinges open as he gawks at me. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am quite serious. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find some company that doesn’t insult me at every turn.”
“Kerris…” His tone holds a warning.
A warning I ignore as I twist on my heel and stalk away.
If his goal was to keep me from seeing Ever, he is about to be severely disappointed. All it’s done is make me want to race across that bridge in the light of day.
33
“The Unseelie tongue is most fascinating, from its impressive dexterity to its surprising texture.”
Unseelie Fae: A Scientific Study
Night descends, the light in the sky giving way to a deep-blue blanket of twinkling starlight. With the rest of the house asleep, I slip out through the back door only to find a man wearing all black waiting at the gate. He tells me to return to the cottage or I’ll be taken into custody for defying the curfew.
Since I don’t fancy spending the night in a jail cell, I do as he says.
I can’t sleep until the late hours of the night. When I peel my eyes open the next morning, my windowsill is empty.
34
Everett
“Remain vigilant. Sometimes the enemy comes from behind."
Surviving The Unseelie Lands, Author Unknown
Iwaited all night on the bridge like a lovesick fool, but Kerris never showed. Her choice should come as no surprise. No doubt, her cousin and the rest of her family explained the realities of our situation, and she decided I am not worth the hassle.
She is right, of course. I have unwillingly been pledged to another, and the consequences of breaking that promise would be dire, indeed. I should be happy that she saved me the trouble of explaining, but I am not happy.
I am fucking miserable.
Some would say it is because I barely slept after my shift, but the truth is that part of me believed we might find a way to make this work.
Maddox sits outside his barrel-top, stirring whatever rubbish he is cooking in the cast iron pot hanging above an open fire. When he sees me emerge from my carriage, his hand stills and nose wrinkles. “If you are getting sick, do not come near me. I am taking Aurora to the river later and she will never forgive me if I cancel.”
“I am not sick.” I am heartbroken.
“I do not believe you. Sit over there.” He nods to a log well away from him, which is a blessing, really, because whatever he is making smells like boiled death.
Dampness seeps through my trousers the moment my arse meets bark. Maddox looks on, a clear question in his narrowed gaze. I glance around, making sure no one else can hear our conversation before explaining the reason for my melancholy. “Kerris did not show up last night.”
“And?”
And it should be pretty fucking clear that I am upset about it.
Maddox slips the spoon from the pot, clanging it so loudly on the edge that my head starts to ache. He tosses it aside in exchange for a shaker of heaven-knows-what, sprinkling it over the boiled muck. “Poor Ever has too many females vying for his hand. I really should leave you to your gloom,” he mutters, putting the shaker down to resume his stirring. “But since you are one of my best friends, I suppose I will put you out of it. The king has called for a curfew in Rosehill.”
That cannot be true. There has not been a curfew in decades. “Why would he do that?”
“A couple of cute little fuzzy animals killed and whatnot. Probably a weasel or fox by the sounds of it.”
