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“Even the richest fae use the privy.”

A Seelie Guide to Happiness

I ’ve been abandoned and I don’t even care.

Nia and Nolan have absconded to some dark corner to get lost in each other, leaving me with Trevor, Ivee, her two shadows, Florence and Aurelia, and a monologuing prince.

Prince Ronan tells the most fascinating stories. He’s been to every town in our kingdom—including Gravale when he was a little boy. Not only that, but he has also visited the other six fae kingdoms as well. He’s seen so much in his twenty-seven years, and I’ve seen so little.

With every sip of cider he takes, his stories grow more fantastical. Part of me wonders if they’re entirely true. Not that it matters, I suppose, when they’re so entertaining.

Trevor drinks silently by my side. Every so often, I catch him peeking at me and offer him a warm smile. Mostly, I stare at the prince.

Probably not the smartest thing considering the way Ivee has attached herself like a leech on his arm, but I’m afraid it cannot be helped.

He’s so beautiful. It really is too bad Ivee’s head keeps blocking my view.

Nia stumbles back and swipes her drink, knocking it over in the process. Ivee’s shriek cuts through the chatter as amber liquid splashes all over her skirts.

“Oops,” Nia says with mock sincerity, her lips pressed to the side of her glass.

Ivee shoots her a glower oozing such hatred, I feel a chill in my bones. Her skirts swish as she whirls and stomps to the privy. Florence and Aurelia follow in her wake, assuring her they can “hardly notice” the stain.

Do they go everywhere with her? Imagine the three of them all curled in the same bed, snoring in perfect harmony.

Nia winks at me before skipping back to where Nolan waits and leaping on top of him with an exuberant kiss.

I giggle into my… empty glass?

Where did all my cider go?

When I glance back up, fae light flickers across Ronan’s face, making him look positively angelic.

The prince leans in close, bringing with him the scent of cider and citrus. “Have you seen the Black Rose gardens yet, Kerris?” he whispers.

“Not yet.” Truth be told, I didn’t even know there were gardens.

The prince takes my glass straight out of my hand and gives it to Trevor. “Come with me and I’ll show you.” His hand falls over my fingers braced at his elbow as he brings me out a back door and into the moon-kissed night.

This isn’t a garden; this is an entirely new world. One where roses rule and fuchsias abound. Redbrick paths cut through the maze of blooms, with the occasional bench tucked into shadowed alcoves.

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as this.”

Ronan plucks a lilac from a branch, twirling the stem between his fingers before handing the flower to me. “And I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

Warmth bubbles in my chest, threatening to spill out in a giggle.

“Tell me about you, Kerris. About life in Gravale.”

Where do I even begin? “The village is small, and the population is aging. Most of those with children have relocated to the towns and cities off the mountains, where the land isn’t as unforgiving.” In Gravale, one wrong step or strong gust of wind, and you could find yourself plummeting to your death.

“That sounds atrocious. No wonder you left. Is your family still there?”

“My older brother Theo moved to Applewood six months ago. But my father loves the mountains, so he chose to remain. He raises goats.” I think he might love the goats more than the mountains. “My mother…” That familiar ache pinches my heart. “She passed when I was five.”

You’d think that after almost twenty years, the heavy weight of grief would have subsided. All it does is burrow deeper into your marrow, rearing its ugly head when you least expect it.

I don’t want to be sad tonight, not when I’m lost in the moonlight with a handsome prince. “Tell me about your family, Prince Ronan.”

“Just Ronan is fine. There’s no need for such formalities between us.” His fingers caress mine with soft, sensual strokes. “As for me, I have no brothers or sisters. Both my parents are still living—much to my mother’s chagrin.” Impossibly blue eyes lock with mine, wide pupils reflecting the waning moon. His head tilts, bringing us within a whisper of each other. “Can I tell you a secret—something I’ve never told anyone?”

Tell me all your secrets.

All your fears.

All your dreams.

I’ll keep them safe in my heart.

“Of course.”

His chest brushes against mine with his heavy exhale. “Part of me wishes I wasn’t born a prince. My true passion—oh, never mind. You’re sure to think I’m mad if I tell you.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

“All right, then. My true passion lies in carpentry. In building things that will last forever.”

The forgotten lilac still pinched between my fingers brushes against my skirts. How intriguing. A carpenter prince. “What sort of things do you build?”

The corners of his lips lift into the tiniest, most mischievous smile. “How about I call by your uncle’s cottage on Thursday and show you?”

He wants to see me again. Me . The daughter of a goat farmer. When I tell Theo, he’ll think I’m spinning yarns.

Could this night get any better?

“I would like that very much.”

His perfect smile stretches across his handsome face as his gaze drops to my lips.

Is he going to kiss me? He is! Prince Ronan Reve is about to kiss me.

I’ve waited my entire life for this moment and now that it’s finally here?—

My lips are…they’re too chapped. And my breath probably tastes like cider, and I haven’t bathed since I left Gravale…

“I should get back to Nia,” I blurt, my cheeks ablaze as my heart thunders against my breast.

The prince blinks at me from only a breath away. “W-what?”

What am I doing ?

Why didn’t I just let him kiss me?

I am such a dolt, but it’s too late to take it back now. The moment is over; the spell broken. “Nia. She’ll be worried about me.” Has a more terrible liar ever existed? Nia probably doesn’t even realize I’m gone.

The harsh sound of Ronan clearing his throat cuts through the quiet night. “Right. Of course. Let me bring you inside.”

By the time we reach our table, his smile has returned, but mine is nowhere to be found. How did I muck that up so thoroughly?

Trevor darts a glance between us, a glass of cider clutched in his fist. “Here, Kerris. I bought this for you.”

Ronan’s brow furrows. “I said I would buy the drinks.”

“You weren’t here,” Trevor clips as he takes a swig of his own.

“Thank you, Trevor. That was kind of you.” Thank heavens for cider. My mouth is as dry as the Fairsing Desert.

Would you look at that? Ivee no longer wears a pink dress, but Aurelia’s green one. Meanwhile, Aurelia looks utterly miserable as she clutches the front of her skirts to hide the cider stain. Ivee is too busy glaring at me to notice her friend’s discomfort.

Trevor clears his throat, his cheeks growing rosier with each passing second. “Would it be all right if I called on you this Thursday, Kerris? I could bring you by the library. Or, if you’d prefer, we could go for tea. Or both. Or if you’d rather do something else—” His fingers drum an uneven beat against his thighs.

“Both sounds lovely, but the prince and I already have plans on Thursday. What about tomorrow instead?”

His mouth drops open, and his glasses slip down his nose. “No one goes to town on Wednesdays.”

“Why not?”

Ronan throws an arm around Trevor, rattling the poor man so badly, his glasses fall to the ground. “That’s the day my father has graciously allotted for the Unseelie to visit our well.”

Trevor’s blush ignites as he extricates himself and bends down to retrieve his glasses.

Unseelie fae.

The opposite of us Seelie in every way. We prefer spring and summer while they’d rather live in eternal autumn and winter. If we’re light, they’re darkness. We’re the day and they’re the night.

I always assumed that they kept to their side of The Divide, while we remained on ours.

There are countless legends about where The Divide came from. My favorite is the tale of an ancient Unseelie King who fell in love with the first Seelie Queen. He betrayed her with another, and in her rage, she cleaved the world in half, separating the two factions of fae for all of eternity.

“Why don’t the Unseelie use their own well?” Every town has one—even Gravale. Here in the city, not only do they have a well, but also immortal water runs in their taps.

Ivee snorts. “Because the monsters prowling the other side of The Divide have drained their wells dry.”

Trevor settles his glasses back onto his nose with a quiet huff. “That’s a myth, Miss Lynch. No one knows what happened to their wells—or if there were even wells to begin with.”

“Has no one ever thought to ask them?” Seems a simple enough solution.

“No one cares,” Ronan says with a chuckle. “If it were up to me, they wouldn’t have access to our well at all.”

He must be joking. “They would die without immortal water.” If we stopped drinking, our lives would wane after only a handful of seasons. With the water, we could live to see two hundred, even three hundred summers.

“And I’d say good riddance to the lot of them.”

That seems unnecessarily cruel. The Unseelie might be different from us, but they’re still fae. How would the prince feel if our roles were reversed? If they were the ones with the wells and we had to rely on their generosity to survive?

Ivee sidles closer to the prince, her head bobbing in agreement. “You’re right, too. The Divide is an abomination, just like those Unseelie beasts.”

Ivee is the only beast I see. “Well, I’d love to see it myself.” They say The Divide is so large, it’s impossible to see across to the other side. It’s so deep, there is no bottom.

Nia appears to my right, swiping the glass straight out of my hand. “See what for yourself?” She takes a swig, then drags the back of her hand over her puffy lips. Behind her, Nolan’s hair is sticking straight up, his own lips just as swollen.

I steal back my glass for one final drink. “The Divide.”

Ronan’s grin widens. “Why don’t we go now?”

Nolan presses a hand to the prince’s shoulder. “Sire, that isn’t wise.”

Trevor’s face has gone green with horror. “Don’t be reckless, Ronan. The Unseelie aren’t the only monsters that lurk on that side of the canyon.”

“You mean the wolves?” Ronan chuckles. “It’s all a load of bollocks, if you ask me. There hasn’t been a wolf sighting in over a decade. Father says they’re all extinct.”

Perhaps it’s the alcohol talking, but the idea of seeing The Divide makes my heart beat a little harder. The rhythm of the unknown. Of adventure.

I take Nia’s hand. “I’ll go if you do.”

My cousin chews on her lower lip, darting a glance at a narrow-eyed Nolan. “Why not?”

“It’s settled, then.” Ronan hooks an arm around each of our shoulders, drawing us against his warm body. “We’re going to The Divide.”