I feel like we shouldn’t be witnessing this.

“Shush,” Croi says, her eyes not moving from the entwined figures in front of her. They certainly seem to love each other passionately.

“My father is in a good mood. Talk to him about marrying me today,” Mabh says.

Croi watches the complex look in Aodh’s eyes as he looks down at Mabh. She’s not convinced he wants to marry Mabh.

“I will,” he says with a slight smile.

“Do you love me?” Mabh senses his hesitation and moves away from him. He catches her hands in his and draws her back into his embrace.

“I do. You know I do.” He hugs her tightly. The figures flicker and fade, and Croi is left staring at the empty space.

She goes back to the center where the revelry is going strong and looks around for Tinder. The pixie is nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, she returns to the tables and starts filling a plate, but her hunger has disappeared now.

As she’s picking up and putting down food, someone clears his throat behind her, and Croi jumps, surprised. She turns and sees Irial standing before her, an uncomfortable look on his face.

Well, this is a surprise.

He is dressed in a creamy white shirt and black pants that hug his long legs. No crown decorates his head, but little white flowers with yellow centers are woven in and out of his hair. His eyes have no smile in them, however. He is entirely too solemn to suit Croi’s taste. “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you part of the Tine retinue?” he asks before he looks at her eyes and his own widen with shock. Croi immediately lowers her gaze.

“Yes,” she replies.

“Is there a brownie in the Tine retinue?” he asks eagerly.

Croi smiles a little, mollified that he’s thinking of her. The brownie was the first form he saw her in. “There’s Monca, the Fire Princess’s brownie mother. Is she whom you’re looking for?”

“No one else?” His shoulders droop.

“No. But—”

“Irial! You came!” A light, fluttery voice interrupts Croi at this moment. A fae maiden with lustrous eyes and waxen cheeks runs over to Irial. She grabs his arm, holding it close to herself.

Croi feels another crack in her heart.

“Brianna.” Irial looks uncomfortable. He allows her to hold his arm for a moment before extricating himself. “Caleb is looking for you.”

“I don’t care for him. You know that. If it weren’t for your mother…” The fae maid trails off. She glances at Croi. “Who is she?”

The fae maid’s hostility is inexplicable.

Don’t take it personally. Anyone female is a threat to her.

Croi glances at Irial and then at merrymaking kin, still seeing no sign of Tinder. “I’ll take my leave now.” She is no one.

She turns to walk away when Irial reaches out and catches her hand. He holds her gently but firmly for about three seconds before letting go.