Ever does not look pleased by this.
My Biscuits and I will need to have a talk about how to keep secrets. “I am afraid that my goat may have eaten the gardener’s boot.”
“Why does this not surprise me? The Seelie already believe us uncouth and without manners.” He tugs the boot free, holding it out toward me just as a large string of drool plops on his own boots. “This does not help.”
“Biscuits will not borrow any more boots. I promise.”
“You must also promise to stop washing in the fountain. There are many bathing rooms inside the castle for you to use. The guards know to allow you entry at all times.”
“The water in Seelie bathing rooms is too warm.” I tried to bathe in a Seelie’s porcelain tub once, and it felt like I was being boiled alive. A Maddox Finch stew.
“Maddox . . .”
He knows I despise that haughty tone. Still, I have not a leg to stand on in this argument. This is his castle and his kingdom that he has graciously shared with me. I do not wish for Ever to rescind his invitation. “Fine. I will only use the fountain for laundry.”
“You will not. There are Seelie in the castle responsible for the washing.”
If I let others do my washing, then what is to occupy my time on Wednesdays?
My friend sure knows how to ruin a perfectly good day.
He leaves me with an offer to join him for dinner. He and Gryff took down a boar on their morning hunt that I was not invited on.
My belly is still full of pie, so I decline.
He does not seem to mind as he hoists the ivory chair over his head and carries it back toward the castle.
11
“Attraction can strike at any moment.”
— A Seelie Guide to Matrimony
Anote arrived from Maddox this morning asking if I could meet him in the castle gardens. Apparently, he has some questions about the list I gave him yesterday. I’m not sure what there is to be confused about. Everything should’ve been self-explanatory.
Maybe the issue was with my handwriting. My penmanship had gotten quite sloppy by the end, which is entirely the wine’s fault. My mother would’ve been appalled if she’d seen it.
I venture through the castle gardens to find Maddox sitting on the back steps of the wagon he calls home, with Biscuits at his feet gnawing on a half-eaten boot like a dog with a bone.
Maddox’s pet chews louder than a grinder. He drools too, which doesn’t seem to worry my companion in the least, even when the goat lifts its head for a pat and dribbles all over his trousers.
When Maddox sees me, his face breaks into a smile, and he leaps to his feet like he’s been anxiously awaiting my arrival. I quickly tamp down the resulting butterflies; he’s only eager to win his fair Unseelie’s hand. That’s all. No sense getting all giddy over nothing.
“I’m sorry it took me so long. I had to wait for one of the public carriages.” Most places in Rosehill are within walking distance of our cottage, so Father never saw the need to invest in one. Called it a waste of money. To that, I say: try climbing the hill to the castle on foot. That is a sure way to earn a few blisters on your heels and toes.
Maddox’s palm flies to his forehead. “I am sorry. I did not realize you had no mount. I should have come to you.”
“No, no. It feels good to get out of the house.” Especially with Cordelia in one of her infamous moods. She doesn’t just have a bee in her bonnet; she has the whole damn hive.
Our conversation this morning started with a string of questions about why Maddox was sending me notes, followed by an interrogation about why Nolan hasn’t shown his face in so long. Both topics I had no desire to discuss.
“Besides, my mother was wearing her favorite cornflower lace gown, and if she’d ripped it while fainting, she’d never forgive us.”
Although he nods, he doesn’t appear convinced.
No sense dwelling on it now. “Right. Your note said you had questions.”
“Wait right there.” He clambers up the steps to his wagon, reappearing a moment later lugging an ivory wingback chair with a half-rusted tin can clinging to the bottom corner. The door slams at his back as he descends the stairs once more and sets the chair beside me.
