Soft lips skate up to my jaw as his hand trails down to my skirt, gathering the silk in his fist.
“Are you mad? Someone could see us.” The boxwoods may be high, but the maze opens on either side of this hedge.
“That’s never stopped you before.”
Perhaps not, but this is the castle, not some dark corner in an empty pub. “Nolan, stop. We’re not doing this right now.”
He lets my skirts drop with a groan. “You never want to anymore.”
That’s not true. Only last week, I snuck out to spend the night in his cottage.
When he draws back, I catch a whiff of stale liquor hanging like a broken promise on his breath. Bloodshot gray eyes seem unable to focus on my face as a disappointed grimace flattens my lover’s lips.
Not again . . . “How much have you had to drink?”
He bends down to retrieve a champagne flute from the grass. “Don’t start, Nia. I’ve only had one or two.”
One or two at the castle, maybe. “What about before you arrived?”
A wince.
That’s what I was afraid of.
Only a few weeks ago, Nolan lost his two best friends, and he’s been drowning in grief and drink ever since. I am trying to be patient, but it’s difficult to watch him destroy himself night after night and not know how best to help.
I swipe the glass before it reaches his lips and then take his hand. “Come with me.” It will do no good to let him make a fool of himself in front of all these people. Again.
He stumbles along as I lead him back toward the gates. A handful of fae watch us, but most are too engrossed in their conversations to notice the way Nolan sways.
“Where are we going?” he asks with a half-hearted tug of his fingers.
“We” aren’t going anywhere. “You are going home.”
“Good. This is a shite party, anyway.”
Must he be so loud?
Finally, we reach where Martin has parked the carriage between two others. When the driver sees me, he leaps down from his seat and straightens his waistcoat. “Is everything all right, Miss Nia?”
No. It’s not. Far from it. “My friend isn’t feeling well. Do you mind taking him to Summerville Cottage and ensuring he makes it safely inside?”
Nolan yanks his hand from my grasp, falling over his own feet in the process. Thankfully, Martin is quick to catch him.
“You’re not coming with me?” Nolan whines.
“I will after I’ve finished here.”
A storm rolls across his eyes, violent and swift, transforming him from the man I love to one I no longer recognize. “You’d rather stay with those Unseelie bast?—”
I press my palm to Nolan’s mouth before he can say something we’ll both regret. He’s already been suspended from the royal guard for public intoxication. The last thing he needs is to be caught speaking ill of the new king and lose his position altogether.
Not everyone is pleased about an Unseelie fae sitting on Willowhaven’s throne, but Everett Gathin is a good man. I’ve no doubt that he will do right by both factions of fae on either side of The Divide. This is, unfortunately, a fact that my inebriated lover and I do not agree upon.
“Please go home and rest. I will see you later tonight.” I urge him toward the carriage right as Martin opens the door.
Nolan spins out of my grasp, catching himself on the carriage’s back wheel. “No.”
“Nolan—”
