“Does your ‘important matter’ concern that guard of hers? I don’t understand what she sees in him.”
This female I do not know should not converse so candidly about her daughter’s affairs with a stranger. I have not come to this place to speak ill of the fae who holds my heart.
“It is not your place to see anything. The decision is hers to make.” I do not wish for Nia to marry her Nolan, but it is herright to do so, and I would rather see her happy than not see her at all.
In light of my lies, this is a fact that I had forgotten.
Nia’s mother wrinkles her nose, tells me she is too busy to entertain me, and then returns to her kitchen.
I trade the beautiful house for a spot in the garden where I can watch the road for signs of the female I have wronged.
Dusk appears happy to be near grass once more. If only I could feel the same. Instead, my heart is heavy and dread floods my stomach as I stand and wait for Nia to reveal my fate.
17
“Fae do not grow up. They only grow older.”
— Seelie Proverb
The prospect of going out used to excite me. Meeting new people, making friends, chatting and laughing until all hours about everything and nothing at all.
The magic of all those things is lost on me today.
Thank goodness Kerris agreed to accompany me to The Black Rose. Otherwise, I’d be a right sourpuss.
Four guards march behind us, hands on their swords and eyes alert, making a private conversation on the way impossible.
I desperately want to tell Kerris about this new development with Maddox, but not in front of an audience. It’s early enough, so we should be able to find a nice, quiet corner to discuss my many woes, including the fact that Nolan and I are no longer together.
We could’ve stayed at the castle for all of this, but there’s a third reason I want to go out. Tonight, I am going to flirtwith someone—anyone. Who knows? I might even kiss him. The night is young, and I’m finished hiding and licking my wounds.
It’s time for someone else to do that.
We round the corner only to come to a halt outside my favorite pub. Fae spill from within, drinks clutched in their hands as they enjoy the afternoon sun.
Why are there so many people? Sure, it’s half-drink specials until nine o’clock, but the Rose is never busy this early. Do fae not work anymore?
Catching the barmaid’s attention in this crowd is going to be a nightmare.
I take Kerris by the hand, leading her through the throng, the guards like black flags waving at our backs. By the time we reach the bar, I’m drenched in sweat and this close to committing murder.
Kerris steps onto the bar rail to rest her elbows on the polished wooden counter while I wave at one of the women pulling pints. When she sees us, she slams the drink onto the counter and rushes straight over.
Bringing the queen has some distinct advantages.
“We’d like two pints of cider, please,” I shout over the roar of conversation and din of music from a minstrel playing a fiddle somewhere in the square.
“Only one pint,” Kerris says. “I’ll have a glass of tonic with lime.”
How am I supposed to confess everything to a completely sober Kerris? That wasn’t the plan. “I thought we were drinking?”
“If I have a pint, I’m going to be asleep before the sun falls.”
Fine. Fair enough. I’ll just drink alone. Might as well get used to it since I’m never going to get married.
The barmaid hurries to fill our orders. Maybe the garden out back won’t be as busy. If it is, we can finish this drink and go somewhere else.
Two glasses land in front of us, but the woman refuses to take any coins.
