Page 47 of This Prince Is Not Charming

Cillian looked away, jaw locked. “Well, no, not exactly.”

“I rest my case.”

“I didn’t realize we were in the court of law, and if we were, you do realize I’d be the one presiding over the case.”

I made a face at him, my annoyance growing. “You wouldn’t be presiding if you were the one on trial, which you absolutely would be if anyone found out you’re leaving Fairwitch Isle. You’re lucky Meera doesn’t care enough to expose you.”

Or Meera might not even know we had strict rules against leaving. The Fair Folk could leave whenever they wanted, being invisible and all. We didn’t have that luxury.

“I should never have told you,” Cillian said.

My eyebrows shot up, his words like a punch in the gut. “That’s the lesson you’re taking away from all of this? And you didn’t tell me. You lied, and then I caught you in your lie. That’s not the same thing.”

He blew out a frustrated breath.

“Maybe the lesson you should be learning is to be more careful, to not put your entire city at risk for⁠—”

“For what?” he yelled, startling me. “For my brother? Everyone else has given up on him, but I refuse. I thought you’d understand that more than anyone.”

His gaze bore into me, and his meaning became clear. “That’s different,” I said. “My father has an illness.” It wasn’t the kind of illness you could see on the outside, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. “Of course I would never give up on him or abandon him.”

“And my brother would never leave us. He’d never do the things he’s been accused of.”

I reared back at Cillian’s words. He’d never told me he felt this way. I had assumed that, like everyone else in his family, he’d finally accepted that Lor had betrayed us all and started working for the Brotherhood of Magic.

“It’s proven!” Now my voice was raising, my anger flaring at how obstinate he was being. I wasn’t even sure how we’d gotten to this point in the conversation, how we were now arguing about this, but I didn’t care. “Wolfe saw him. You got a note from him three years ago telling you to stop searching.”

“Just leave it alone, Ceri!” Cillian was normally so even-keeled, so cool, calm, and collected. But right now, his chest was rising and falling with quick breaths, his cheeks reddening. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is because it affects me!”

“Um, you guys?” We both glared up at Marsten, who peered down at us, wiggling his fingers. “Hi, I hate to interrupt, but you are both screaming, and we’re all trying to enjoy our tea and pretend this entire situation isn’t completely fucked. Maybe you could just”—he pinched his fingers—“take it down a notch?”

“Fine,” I said.

Cillian crossed his arms. “No problem.”

“Thank you,” Marsten said in a singsong voice, skipping back to the table he shared with Meera and Siobhan, who was glaring at me like she was the one I was in an argument with.

I leaned forward. “You need to stop whatever it is you’re doing. Stop leaving Fairwitch Isle.”

“You don’t know anything, Ceri.” Cillian looked away, jaw locked. “You spend all your time in that dress shop, but you have no idea . . .” He trailed off.

Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away. I’d learned long ago that I was the one who needed to hold it together. I couldn’t be falling apart when everyone else was, and that included Cillian. “Maybe I don’t know anything. But I’ve spent years protecting my father from the worst of the attacks, the constant moving, from his own worst fears. And if you are putting him, the only person I have left, at risk, I do know one thing: I will do whatever it takes to stop you.”

I stood, and this time Castle’s magic didn’t hold me back. Cillian didn’t so much as glance at me as I stomped away.

CHAPTER 21

Cillian

Fucking fuck fuck. I had no idea how that conversation with Ceri had taken such a turn for the worse. I’d been grumpy. There was no doubt about that.

I’d taken it out on her and been such an ass. I’d said horrible things I didn’t mean, and even now, I wasn’t sure why I’d said them. We’d had an argument based on something that wasn’t happening—Lor wasn’t even the true reason I was sneaking out of Fairwitch Isle, but I couldn’t tell Ceri the real reason, so I’d lashed out at her like an idiot.

“Are you going to ignore me the whole evening?” Siobhan said, sitting across from me in my private chamber, a small table set between us with flickering candles, goblets of wine that refilled themselves, and two steaming plates of seared rabbit and cabbage that neither of us had touched.

In other words, I was in the very last place I wanted to be.