That isn’t what I meant. Tamlin rubbed his head as he finished listening to Briar’s explanation, before exiting the room. He’d never wanted her to feel silenced. He was simply a man of few words. He liked to listen, much more than he liked to speak; but the last think he desired was to have her feel that her conversation was an annoyance to him. It wasn’t.
It’s not her I need a break from — it’s me. Tamlin sighed, following Emma’s lead as they walked down the back stairwell and out the serving door of the tavern. She seemed awfully independent for being so small. Perhaps, that was what came to children who had no parental guidance. They learned to live for themselves. Their own victories and mistakes paved their paths.
I don’t want to make her feel unimportant. Tamlin but his lip, shoving his fingers into his pockets. I am here, in the human lands, to save her family. I wouldn’t be here if she didn’t matter. If my people didn’t matter. They mattered, often, receiving better care and love than he gave himself.
Tamlin stayed a pace behind Emma as they took the gravel path back to the orphanage. His feet were silent as a cat and his dark cloak made him nearly invisible in the darkness, yet the human girl had no trouble tracking him. If she keeps up with Caiden, that makes sense.
Fae and their descendants had the ability to blend into nature. As the High Lord of Spring, his was uncanny, but Emma’s senses were sharp. Owls hooted in the nearby trees and branches cracked on the path ahead. Tamlin’s ears were instantly alert. A long knife materialized in his left hand. He’d paid off the men after the girl, but the one leading the coup hadn’t been fully satisfied. He suspected that they would share words before they left the city.
Emma took shelter under Tamlin’s cloak and he felt her small hand slip into his. He gave it a warm squeeze.
“How much further?” He whispered.
Emma said nothing, simply pointing ahead to the brown brick building with candles burning in the windowsills.
Tamlin’s throat tightened and he narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t leaving her alone in the dark. The door opened and warm light flooded the pale forest. A little boy stood in the doorway.
“Caiden!” Emma let go of Tamlin’s hand and ran forwards, walking inside.
Tamlin cold as she disappeared.
It’s just the wind. He told himself.
Deep down, he knew it wasn’t. The little boy standing in the doorway had bright golden curls, a peach complexion, lightened with freckles, and round pink cheeks. It was like staring at a dead man walking.
Andras was one of those people who’d looked the same as a child and adult. Now, his child was staring Tamlin in the eye with the same curiosity and mischief as his father. It hit him like ice. It suddenly made sense why Andras was so attatched to his shifts guarding the border, why it had once nearly come to blows between them that he obey orders and not go. Five years ago.
Tamlin froze. His child. I nearly prevented him from being there for the birth of his son.
The High Lord felt goosebumps creep up his arms. His heart raced. He felt relieved when Caiden turned away and the door shut behind them. As quickly as he’d come, Tamlin left. He ran, faster than humanly possible. He reached the inn within seconds, leaning against the building, and trying to recover his breath. It wasn’t from the exertion, but the shock.
Tamlin stumbled inside the tavern, looking half drunk, and followed the smell of food towards the galley. A bribe earned him a plate of roast chicken, potatoes, and a slice of apple pie. Impulsively, he requested a half glass of wine and downed it in one before mounting the stairs. A full glass would put him straight to sleep. A half glass was just enough to take the edge off —
He unlocked the door and placed the food on a small, nearby table. Briar was fast asleep on the singular bed. Tamlin grunted in frustration at the small, thin blanket which was provided and conjured up one made of warm wool to drape over her. In the candlelight, some of the weariness left her face and he smiled, sadly.
The world was not fair. Why are all the pretty girls always so sad?
He settled down by the door, wrapping his cloak around himself, and lying his sword across his long legs. Half a glass wasn’t enough to knock him out…
He wasn’t going to fall asleep in front of her — not again.
Before Tamlin could count to three, he did.
