Maddox’s brow furrows as he tickles the goat’s bearded chin. “Biscuits is well trained.” His deep, lilting voice is almost as disconcerting as his muscles.
He named his goat Biscuits? The man’s ridiculousness never ceases to amaze me. The last time we ran into each other, he was in the market buying an armful of sweet corn. I didn’t ask why, and he didn’t offer any explanation. The time before that, he was hauling a three-legged chair down the castle stairs.
Ridiculous.
“I was talking about you,” I say with a smile.
Maddox’s own grin only grows. “Fear not, Nia Qill. I am well trained too.”
Everett rolls his eyes with a groan, while Kerris laughs behind her gloved hand. It’s good to know someone finds him amusing. Perhaps that’s why they keep him around, like a court jester of sorts. All the other Unseelie chose to remain on their side of The Divide, but not Maddox. He’s like Everett’s lapdog, waiting to do his bidding.
Not even a dog. An unruly puppy. It’s a wonder he’s not drooling all over the place.
“Don’t you think, Nia?” Kerris says, cutting through my internal musings.
The three of them—and the ugly goat—look on expectantly.
Another thing that happens when Maddox and I cross paths? He distracts me with his foolishness, and I find it difficult to focus on anything else, which is extremely inconvenient and makes me look foolish as well.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?”
Kerris sweeps a hand toward the other attendees stuffing their faces with desserts and champagne. “I only asked if you were enjoying the party.”
“Oh, yes. The party is wonderful.” Minus one guest.
The goat bleats.
Make thattwo.
“Did you choose the tablecloths?” I ask.
“I chose all of the décor.”
“It’s perfect.”
If I do get married in Rosehill, perhaps she would be willing to help me with the plans. Heaven knows she has more important things to do, but I’m not above begging. Anything to spite whatever Cordelia might have in store for me. My mother would never go against the queen herself.
Maddox’s shoulder bumps mine as he steps close enough for me to smell the goat nodding off in his arms. Or maybe the smell is coming from Maddox. It’s difficult to tell.
“Speaking of parties, when is the anniversary of your birth, Nia Quill?”
The way my stomach flutters has nothing to do with his proximity, but rather my own irritation. Happens far too often when this particular Unseelie is near.
Maddox asks the same question every time we meet. I still haven’t told him, mostly because I don’t want to get his hopes up. In addition to being an over-eager puppy, Maddox is infatuated with me.
That isn’t my ego talking, either.
The signs are all there, from the longing in his gaze to the way he practically vibrates with excitement when we’re beside each other. Yes, Maddox Finch believes himself in love with me, and I’m afraid he’ll do something reckless like propose to me on my twenty-fifth birthday.
Imagine Nolan’s rage then.
So I offer him the same answer I’ve given at least twenty times before. “Why do you want to know, Maddox Finch?”
Eyes as dark as his have no right to sparkle the way they do. “No reason.”
No reason, my foot. Part of me wishes he would come right out and confess his undying devotion so we could put the issue to rest once and for all.
I’m marrying Nolan. End of story.
