“Yes, that Nia Quill.”
The way he shakes his head reminds me of my father when he learned the truth of my first lie. “Why would you do such a foolish thing?”
“I panicked.” I could feel her anger as if it were my own, and although I did not understand why my affections should enrage her, I did not want her to feel guilty for sharing her truth with me.
So, I did what I do best and lied.
Gryff swipes his hands down his thighs, leaving greasy streaks on his faded trousers. “Tell her the truth.”
That is simple for him to say. He cares for nothing but his own solitude. He does not know what it is like to yearn for the one thing that has eluded me for thirty years: a love of my own.
I leave camp with my head hanging. The moment I make my confession, Nia will surely want nothing to do with me.
How is that different from any other day?
She has made her feelings on this matter quite plain. It would be better to come clean and then bring my wagon back to camp where I can become like Gryff and wallow alone with my sticks.
The city is bursting with life, but for the first time since I moved, I wish to escape the noise. People stare at me as I cut through the square. I am used to their eyes, so being watched should not bother me. Today, I wish to sink into the shadows and hide until nightfall.
“Maddox?”
I glance up from the cobbles to find Nia exiting one of the bakeries with a pink bag hanging from her arm. Ribbons of all colors adorn her curls, which are the shade of fallen snow.
I stand taller, but when I search for my smile, it is missing, stolen by my guilt.
“What are you doing in town?” she asks.
“I am returning from the Unseelie camp.”
“I see. Were you meeting your woman?”
Tell the truth.
I shake my head. “I am afraid that she is not interested in me.”
It is the truth, just not all of it. Small steps.
Her brow furrows. “Why not?”
I shrug. “Probably because she is beautiful, and I have a grotesque face.”
Her lips thin into a flat line as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the skirts of her yellow dress rustling beautifully. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was upset and— It doesn’t matter. You have a fine face, Maddox.”
My heart should not leap, but it does. This is only kindness, but I drink it up like the immortal water from their well. “This might come as a surprise to you, but my fine face and I are not beloved by females.” This truth is like a blade to my gut. I have tried to win affections before, but in the end, I am never chosen.
Her wide eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “That cannot be true. You’re kind and . . . and funny.”
If only those traits were enough. “Making someone laugh is not the same as making them care for you. I have had many female friends, but each time I say I am interested in more, they find another.” Now she knows that she is not alone in rejecting my affections. Her decision was the right one.
She reaches for my wrist, her cool fingers grazing my skin, and?—
This is?—
I cannot find my lungs for breathing. Nia Quill is touching me of her own free will, and I am going to expire on the spot.
“Let me help you,” she says.
“Help me what?” I choke, chills racing up and down my arms.
