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“Small talk is overrated. Find someone with whom you can share the silence.”

Kerris Dawn, an observation

W hen Nia said we were going to a pub, I assumed she meant a snug little room with a turf fire, low stools crowded with men in wool caps, and an unhealthy dose of cigar smoke thickening the air.

Instead, The Black Rose is a spacious warehouse-turned-brewery, with twinkling fae lights stretching across the exposed-beam ceiling. Tables extend from within the space, spilling onto the streets so patrons can enjoy the balmy spring air over a frosty pint.

The best part is, there are men everywhere , each one more handsome than the one before.

As Nia and I slowly pick our way through the crowd, we’re met by no less than ten who offer to purchase our drinks. Nia says yes to two of them, and we end up taking a table at the back with two half-pints of amber cider a piece.

Nia gracefully settles herself on the stool like a queen taking her throne, spreading and smoothing her skirts so they lay just right. I, on the other hand, must use the bar at the bottom to climb up like a child.

Not only did I inherit my mother’s lavender tresses, but I also got her height as well—or lack thereof.

The liquid in Nia’s glass sloshes as she extends it toward me. “To finding a husband.”

I tap my glass against hers. “To finding a good husband.” By the looks of it, neither of us would have any trouble finding a man willing to accept our proposals. The issue will be finding the right man.

The icy cider tickles my throat, tasting faintly of the apple juice I used to drink as a child.

Two men share the table next to us, oblivious to the world as they smile and stare into each other’s eyes, their hands laced as one.

What must it be like to be so taken with another that you notice nothing else?

I cannot wait to find out.

Will I meet my future husband tonight? Only time will tell.

Nia sips slowly, scanning the crowd as if searching for someone.

Setting down my drink, I lean an elbow on the table. “Is your man here?”

The ribbons in her curls flutter when she shakes her head. “Not yet. But he will be soon.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

“We met here, actually. He was the only one in his group who didn’t offer to buy me a drink.”

“And that made you want him?” Seems a bit odd to me.

“No, his beautiful eyes and pouty lips did that. I decided to give him a chance because of his response when I asked why he didn’t offer.”

I find myself leaning closer, the condensation on my glass slipping down my fingers.

She mirrors my position, resting her forearms on the glossy tabletop. “He told me that he wouldn’t catch my attention by being like all the rest. So, naturally, I asked why he wanted to catch my attention when there were so many other women in the pub. Do you know what he said? He said, ‘I haven’t noticed any of the others since the moment you walked through the door.’ When I tell you I swooned, I mean I damn near fainted.”

The nicest thing a man has said to me was that I looked like I had strong teeth. That was about four years ago, when Father and I took a trip to one of the villages off the mountain.

“He sounds amazing.” Perhaps her fellow has a single brother.

Fae light sparkles in Nia’s eyes as she tilts her head toward the entrance. “I do hope you think so, because Nolan and his friends just walked in.”

Sure enough, three newcomers traverse the maze of people and tables. The golden-haired one at the front must be Nolan. Although he appears to be a few inches shorter than the two at his back, he is quite possibly the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

Actually, no. Handsome isn’t the correct word. He’s downright beautiful, like an oil painting by one of the old masters you might find hanging above some rich person’s fireplace.

Nia’s fingers curl around my wrist. “This is just wonderful. I was hoping Nolan would bring the prince.”

I swallow so hard, my ears pop. “Did you say prince ?”

Her shapely brows lift, her eyes widening with shock. “Did I not mention that Nolan works for Prince Ronan Reve?”

“No, you didn’t.” That is definitely a detail I would’ve remembered.

“Nolan is Ronan’s personal guard. The prince just turned twenty-seven last week. Rumor has it, he is finally on the hunt for a wife. The two of you would make the most stunning match!” She tucks the hair that has escaped my braid back behind my ears and then pinches both my cheeks. “There. Now, you’re perfect.”

Perfect.

Heavens, do I despise that word and the unwelcome weight it brings. Still, Nia means well, so I do my best not to let my smile falter.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She takes both of my hands in hers and squeezes my fingers as she looks me dead in the eye. “Do not gawk when you look at the prince. He hates that.”

Right. No gawking.

One final squeeze of my fingers and Nia slips off her stool, running straight into the arms of a man with dark chestnut hair almost as curly as hers.

It would appear Nolan isn’t the one with golden curls after all.

How interesting…

Not that he’s not handsome—he is. But when compared to the one in the front, I wouldn’t look twice.

“If that’s the greeting my guard receives, then I can only imagine how happy you are to see your favorite prince,” the beautiful man drawls with a roll of eyes so blue, they’d make a cornflower jealous.

Prince Ronan Reve .

My jaw wants to drop, but I keep the hinge firmly locked.

Nia’s giggle sounds a bit maniacal as she pulls away from Nolan and dips into a curtsy. “So good to see you again, Prince Ronan.”

“You as well, Nia.” The prince’s gaze finds mine, and his eyes widen. “Who is this stunning creature at your table?”

Nia catches my arm and drags me off the stool. I land with a wobble, but the prince is there to steady me. The way his warm hands curve around my arms makes curtsying impossible.

Heavens. His eyes are even more arresting up close.

“This is my cousin Kerris Dawn, from Gravale.” Nia’s voice drifts from somewhere else. Right now, it’s only the prince and me and his beautiful, beautiful eyes. “She is twenty-five on the fourteenth of May and has come to Rosehill for a husband.”

The prince’s thumbs sweep back and forth against my skin, sending chills racing down my arms. “Isn’t that fortuitous? I suddenly find myself in dire need of a wife. How would you like to be a princess, Kerris Dawn?”

Imagine me , a princess.

It’s a good thing he’s holding me upright; otherwise, my legs would give right out.

“I might consider it,” I hedge, not wanting to seem too desperate.

The third man who came in with them steps out from the prince’s shadow. Behind a pair of round spectacles blink kind green eyes. His chestnut hair curls slightly around his pointed ears in the most playful way. His gaze darts to me before settling on my cousin. “Nia, you’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

“You’re too sweet, Trevor.” My cousin gives the man’s arm a friendly pat. “Kerris, this is Trevor Dillon. He works in the library as one of the city’s most esteemed records keepers.”

How interesting. And he works in a library? Sounds like heaven to me. When I smile at Trevor, his cheeks turn the most endearing shade of pink. “I love reading,” I confess. When you’re stuck on the side of a mountain in the dead of winter, there’s little else to do. “Perhaps you would be willing to show me around the library some time?”

Trevor’s glasses slip down his nose when he offers an eager nod. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Dawn.”

“Kerris, please. Miss Dawn makes me sound like an old maid.”

Ronan steps in front of Trevor, nearly stomping on his boot. “The library at the castle is twice as large as the one in the city,” he says. “If you’d like to see it as well, I’d be more than happy to arrange a visit.”

An invitation to Castle Rose on my very first night? I cannot wait to tell Father. “That sounds lovely.”

A streak of pink flashes in my peripherals, and the woman we met outside Nia’s cottage, Ivee Lynch, waltzes through a gap in the tables. The two women from earlier follow closely behind, as if tied to the bodice of Ivee’s blush-pink gown.

“Prince Ronan! Oh, Prince Ronan!” Ivee waves a gloved hand toward the prince, sparing the rest of us not so much as a glance.

The prince’s smile slips into a grimace, and I’m fairly certain I hear him groan.

Ivee doesn’t stop until she has inserted herself right into the middle of our group. “What are you doing here, darling? You said that you were too exhausted to come out tonight.”

Prince Ronan’s teeth flash with his bright smile. “A prince is entitled to change his mind,” he says. When he winks at me, my cheeks start to heat.

Ivee whirls, her eyes narrowing when they land on me. Her gaze slides down to my new gown, and she snatches a handful of my skirts, examining the fabric with a furrowed brow. “Is this a Madame Ella?”

“It is.” I tug my skirt out of her grasp. Thanks to her strangling the silk, it’s going to need steamed.

“But…she isn’t taking new bookings until next year.”

“Familial connections,” Nia chimes in, hooking her arm through mine, creating a solid line of defense against Ivee’s scowl. “If you’ll excuse us for just a moment...” She sweeps me through a gap in the tables and straight into the privy.

The moment she turns the lock, she starts pacing from the sink to the toilet and back again, all while muttering under her breath. “That bloody witch has the worst possible timing. How did she even know the prince was here?”

“Does it matter?” Yes, she seems rude and awful, but we shouldn’t let one person ruin our night.

“Of course it does! For the last two years, I’ve listened to that wretched cow boast over having her pick of the men. If she wins the prince, then she will be even more insufferable. Imagine Ivee Lynch as the next Queen of Willowhaven.” Nia shudders. “If that happens, I might have to throw myself into The Divide. I was hoping you and Ronan would hit it off, but that cannot happen if she insists on showing up like a bad case of hemorrhoids.”

While Ronan is handsome, I only just met the man. As far as I’m concerned, if Ivee wants him, she’s welcome to him. “I don’t want to be in competition with her.” I don’t want to be in competition with anyone.

Love is something you fight for, not fight over.

“Ivee will see you as competition whether you want to be or not. She is now our nemesis.”

“Nemesis” seems a little dramatic. After all, there are twice as many men in this pub than women, so it’s not like they’re a rare commodity. Besides, just because someone proposes does not mean the other person must accept. Take my brother Theo, for instance. His first month in Applewood, he turned down four proposals.

If the prince wants to marry Ivee, wonderful. I wish them all the happiness in the world.

Nia’s eyes widen. “I have an idea. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” She unlocks the door and slips back into the pub without another word.

I love my cousin, but I am not going to wait in a privy simply because she told me to. Instead, I return to our table where Ivee and her two friends have claimed our stools, blocking the prince and leaving me to stand awkwardly beside Trevor.

Nia and Nolan speak in quiet tones over by the wall while she casts furtive glances my way. Heaven only knows what she’s telling him.

Trevor adjusts the spectacles on the end of his nose, his lips pursing. “The city library has a thousand more books than the one in the castle.”

The way he says it, so matter-of-factly, makes me chuckle. I wonder what the prince would have to say to that—not that he’s paying us any attention. “Does it? Well, your library sounds far more impressive to me.”

When I catch him glancing at me, his blush returns full force. He reminds me of my father in a way, reserved and soft-spoken. He’s not hard on the eyes, either.

“Would you like another cider, Kerris?”

“I would love one. Thank you.”

The prince appears behind him, clamping a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Save your coins for your new roof, Trev.” From his pocket, he withdraws a heavy purse. “Let the royal treasury handle this round—and all the others—tonight.”