Reaching for my stockinged feet, I feel the muscles at the backs of my thighs pull tight. I may have overdone it on my walk today. Traversing the quiet fields gave me some semblance of peace, and by the time I returned home, I no longer wanted to scream at anyone, which is quite an improvement compared to yesterday.

Nia invited me to the theater with herself and Nolan, but I chose to stay in. She chided me, saying I wouldn’t find a husband in the cottage, but at the moment, I’m not sure I even want one.

From the corner of my eye, I catch a flicker of movement outside my window.

Probably a bird or a bat, although it’s too dark on this moonless night to know for certain. When the thing moves again, I sit up, realizing too late that it’s far too large to be a bird. My heart begins to pound unsteadily as I inch forward.

What if it’s a bandit? Or a murderer?

Oh, no…

What if it’s Ronan?

My stomach twists as I slowly slip from beneath my covers and back toward the door. I’ll just go across the hall and wake my uncle. He’ll take care of whoever is⁠—

My footsteps still. The shape is far too large to be Ronan, and when the person raps against the window, I’m pretty sure the skin of his hand is green.

Everett?

What in heaven’s name is he doing here?

And why do the traitorous butterflies in my stomach choose this exact moment to wake up?

I whip my rose-printed silk robe from the back of the chair, throwing it on over my shift and bloomers before sneaking back over to the window to where Everett crouches on the roof, gripping the sill with both hands. I have to move the vase of flowers aside so I can unlatch the window and push it open a fraction.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss through the gap.

His dark eyes flit down to my robe before settling back on my face. “I have come to tell you that I am sorry.” From his pocket, he withdraws a new silver flower, the stem longer than any of the others he’s left at my door.

Why? I want to scream.

Why is he here?

Why didn’t he just leave the flower and go away like every other night?

Why is he bringing me flowers at all?

“What do you want in return?”

Everett draws back as if I’d struck him, his gaze downcast and face solemn.

“Go on. I’ve been told the Unseelie are not kind, so why would you bring this to my window unless you’re looking for something?”

“It is true. I am looking for something.”

His quiet confession douses the fire in my chest. “You…you are?”

A nod. “I would like your forgiveness.”