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“Beware of enemies appearing where friends once stood.”

An Unseelie Fable, Author Unknown

N ia and I race back to the cottage, giggling through the maze of streets that already feel like home. Inside my aunt and uncle’s hushed conversation drifts from the kitchen, but neither of us stop until we are safely ensconced in her bedroom.

“Oh, Kerris. I cannot believe you did that,” she manages between gasps, her color higher than I’ve ever seen it before as she fans her face with both hands.

“Whatever do you mean?” I tease, twisting to give her access to the laces at my back.

Nia tugs at the knot, a smile in her voice. “You, Kerris Dawn, gave an Unseelie warrior a whole damn pie in front of the entire city!”

The corset loosens, falling to the ground so I can step out of it. “I sure did.” And if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I motion for Nia to twist around. The ribbon on her corset is tied in a double knot that takes a little work to undo.

“I thought Ronan was going to lose his life.”

She sounds utterly delighted by the prospect, which strikes me as odd considering only a few days ago she was trying to convince me to forgive the man.

“I still cannot believe the wretched way he spoke to you.” Her hair tickles my fingers when she shakes her head. “You should’ve seen Everett’s face when the prince grabbed you. He had murder in his eyes. I was half afraid he was going to run Ronan through. Serves the ass right. He never should’ve touched you like that.”

I trace a finger along my sore wrist, still marked from his iron grip. There will definitely be a bruise come morning. “I’m afraid it’s official: I won’t be the next Princess of Willowhaven.”

Nia whips around, catching both of my hands as her corset falls to the floor. “No. You’re going to be the next Mrs.— What’s Everett’s surname?”

“I don’t know. I never asked.” But when I see him tomorrow night, I will.

“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?” Nia spins me around the room like we’re back at the festival, dancing to a fiddler’s tune. “The way he gave you those flowers. Flowers that happen to match all the others in your room.”

Everything about Ever is romantic. Being around him makes me feel as if I’m floating on a champagne cloud. “He is the most amazing man I have ever met.”

“I never thought I’d see you so smitten. And the fact that he forced himself to eat that pie means he must be smitten as well.”

“What do you mean?” I had a piece myself earlier in the night and it tasted like blackberry bliss.

She flops back on her bed, her arms splayed across her quilt. “For a woman on the verge of bedding an Unseelie, you certainly don’t know very much about them.”

“I’m not on the verge of bedding him,” I choke. Visions of those illustrations in Trevor’s book dance through my mind. I wouldn’t even know what to do if he were to disrobe in my presence.

I bet Ever would know…

Her only answer is a shrill, slightly maniacal cackle.

I swat her leg. “The pie?”

She toes off her slippers and then works her stockings down her thighs, adding them to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. “The Unseelie don’t enjoy sweet things.”

“How do you know?”

“Do us both a favor and read your damn book. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of things that’ll keep you up at night. I think you’ll find chapter seventeen particularly interesting.”

I leave Nia to her giggling and cross to my own room to retrieve the book from beneath my bed. First, I flip through the table of contents to the chapter about the Unseelie diet. Sure enough, they prefer savory food to sweet. If this author is to be believed, the sugar irritates their throats.

Out of curiosity, I flip to chapter seventeen next.

The Unseelie Tongue.

Nia was right.

This is riveting .

* * *

The next morning, my aunt remains quiet over breakfast, eating her porridge without attempting to engage in conversation with either of us. Twice, Nia asks if she’s all right and twice her mother claims that she is only tired after the festival. When a heavy knock rattles the front door, Aunt Cordelia slips from her chair while Nia and I follow her out into the foyer to where a young man waits with an armful of fliers clutched to his chest.

He hands my aunt a page from the top of the stack, and then retreats down the steps, through the gate, and over to the neighbor’s house.

Nia leans over her mother’s shoulder for a peek. “What does it say?”

“The king has called a meeting today at noon. All households are required to attend.”

“Does this happen often?” I ask.

Both Nia and her mother shake their heads.

A niggling feeling grows in my stomach. Something must be wrong. Why else would the king want to speak to us?

By the time we arrive to the meeting, the city square is already filled with whispering fae, all of them speculating over the reason for us being called together. Some think the king is going to announce a new holiday. Others believe this has to do with last night’s unexpected guests.

“Do you think this has to do with the Unseelie?” I whisper to Nia.

She nods. “Definitely.”

What could the king say? The Unseelie arrived on a Wednesday, as was their right. It wasn’t their fault that we happened to be holding a festival at the same time.

Speaking of the festival, the decorations have yet to be removed. Colorful ribbons still dance in the air, clinging to the forgotten Maypoles.

A wooden platform has been erected in front of the library, where the king and queen sit on their thrones. Ronan has a chair to his mother’s right. The golden crown on his head gleams in the sunlight. When our gazes meet, his eyes narrow and his hands ball into fists in his lap.

I curse the moment I met the man. If not for him, my time here in Rosehill would’ve gone very differently.

Ivee, Florence, and Aurelia appear on our right, too busy tittering with one another to notice Nia and me. Trevor stands in front of the library doors along with a few other staff members I recognize.

When the king stands and clears his throat, a hush falls over the crowd. “Thank you all for joining us on such short notice,” he says. “I’m afraid the news today is quite grave. It would seem as though our neighbors have been shirking their duty.”

A man in plain brown cotton trousers and a grubby tunic climbs the stairs to the platform. In his arms, he cradles a small goat with ivory fur.

The man, a farmer by the look of his mud-caked boots, gently lays the animal on the wood. Its limbs flop akimbo, its small, horned head lolling to the side, revealing crimson-stained fur across its throat and another gash across its belly.

The crowd draws in a collective gasp.

That poor, sweet creature. Who would do this sort of thing?

The queen rises to her feet, her voice ringing with finality when she speaks. “The wolves have returned to Rosehill.”

That’s impossible…isn’t it?

“Your children might not remember what it was like the last time a wolf found its way across The Divide,” she goes on, “but many of you do.”

The murmuring around us grows louder. A portly fae with crinkly lips and wild gray hair sprouting from beneath a straw sun hat mutters that she doesn’t think it was wolves at all, but the Unseelie themselves who killed the goats.

No wonder the fae are so closed-minded, with vicious slander like that swirling around.

Everett said no wolves have been spotted anywhere near the bridge. Could he be mistaken and one slipped past? Or was the goat killed by something else?

“What if it’s not the wolves?” a man to my right shouts. “What if that’s what the Unseelie want us to believe?”

The queen raises a bejeweled hand, silencing the crowd once more. “Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Although her words are meant to placate, her twisted smile incites more bellows of agreement. “I think we can all agree that we must remain vigilant until the culprit is caught. That is why the king and I are proposing a curfew. All fae must return to their homes by dusk.”

The younger fae curse and groan, no doubt more annoyed about missing out on socializing than any genuine concern for their own safety.

The king’s lips purse as he glances over at his wife. When she doesn’t meet his gaze, he turns back to the crowd. “We thank you for your cooperation and look forward to the day this beast is caught so that we might live in safety once more.”

“First, we’re not allowed out on Wednesdays, and now this?” a young man in front of Nia grumbles to the one next to him. “Fucking Unseelie. Ruining everything.”

My nails carve crescent moons into palms as I glower at them. They need to stay inside when it gets dark. So what? Ever and the rest of his men are responsible for staying outside , on their own, watching the bridge in exchange for bloomin’ water.

I’m sure they’d be more than happy to stay in the warm comfort of their homes instead of spending every damn night in the wretched darkness.

The king and queen step down from the platform and are quickly whisked away in their golden carriage. Ronan launches from his chair and makes a beeline to where Nia and I wait with no hopes of escape, blocked in by bodies and stone walls.

The prince’s cornflower eyes bore a hole into my forehead. “Might I have a word with you in private, Kerris?”

Nia’s fingers slip into mine, and she whispers, “You don’t have to speak with him if you don’t want to.”

As if he’s going to let me leave without talking to him. I wouldn’t put it past the man to follow me all the way home.

The sooner I deal with him, the better. “It’s all right, Nia. I’ll meet you at the cottage.”

She moves aside, and I follow Ronan to the back of the dais where only a few people linger. “Do you have anything to say to me?” he grits out.

I have plenty to say to him, but none of the words on the tip of my tongue are ones he’d be happy to hear.

“Last night you made a fool out of yourself, Kerris. What’s worse? You made a fool out of me.”

It’s good to know where I stand in his list of priorities.

Blowing out a breath, he straightens his waistcoat, threaded with gold. “You’re not from Rosehill, so your ignorance is understandable. You clearly don’t realize how dangerous that Unseelie monster is.”

In this case, not being from Rosehill feels like a blessing. Otherwise, I would probably be as prejudiced as the rest of this city. But I am not the ignorant one. “Everett isn’t a monster; he’s a man. Same as you.” Only taller, leaner, kinder, more respectful, more handsome, and more intriguing.

“Don’t be daft. He is nothing like me.”

First, I’m ignorant and now I’m daft. Why am I still standing here, letting this small-minded man call me names? “Perhaps that is why I am so taken by him.”

His jaw hinges open as he gawks at me. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am quite serious. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find some company that doesn’t insult me at every turn.”

“Kerris…” His tone holds a warning.

A warning I ignore as I twist on my heel and stalk away.

If his goal was to keep me from seeing Ever, he is about to be severely disappointed. All it’s done is make me want to race across that bridge in the light of day.