“Well, lucky for us I’m good at organizing. And you’ve created a very comfortable place to live, the workshops for one, are incredible. You’re forgetting the very reason you wanted meto come in the first place—it’s safe here. There’s instant access to anywhere someone could ever want to go if they start to get bored or need to shop or visit somewhere outside of this place. I know just as little about the world, perhaps less.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s all true. But what if it’s not enough?” I heard what he hadn’t said. What ifhewasn’t enough. My chest squeezed empathetically. I’d been less than enough my whole life.
Despite how hard I’d been ignoring the signs, now that the truth had been spoken I felt nothing but a sense of relief. It made sense to me. We were cut from similar cloth, with just enough variation in the pattern to complement the other.
“When you suggested I come here…”
He shook his head, expression pained. “Not entirely unselfish, but absolutely for your safety. Nothing I said to you or Father Morton that day is untrue. Armaros is not to be trusted.”
I studied him, from his chipped nail lacquer and the ring he spun when he was nervous to the earnest silver eyes behind round wire spectacles.
“I believe you.” He straightened. “Coming here has changed everything about my life. In a good way.”
A smile softened his pensive expression. “I’m very glad to hear that.”
“You would have just dealt with the pain from the unfulfilled bond forever? That’s what it was, right? The burning? The ache.”
“You felt it too?”
“Yes.”
He lifted one shoulder. “It was not my preferred outcome, but yes.”
“But can’t you go mad if you ignore it?”
“Eventually. It would take a very long time, though, and we’re well beyond that point anyhow.” He lifted his eyes and reached for my hand. “Do not make a decision out of guilt, Phin.Those things are irrelevant. If this is not what you want, the alternatives aren’t important.”
“What are these severe consequences? Ophelia wasn’t specific.”
“It doesn’t matter. I would bear the entirety of them. She agreed to that.”
I shook my head, and Tap looked startled when I started to laugh. “So both foolishandstubborn.”
“Sorry?”
“Not just you, but if it applies, do with those labels what you will. They all knew, straightaway. Jacks, and Ramsey both made a point to reassure me that my instinct about you and your family was correct. Everyone essentially gave me their blessing, nudged me in the right direction. I’m the last to figure it out. To admit it.” Overwhelmed, I pulled blankets and pillows around me as my thoughts crashed into one another, memories and new exclamations of hope colliding. Having my hands busy helped, so once I was done with the bedding, I rearranged everything so it wouldn’t fall and set the tray of snacks on the floor next to the mattress. I took a deep breath, summoning my bravery. “Can I have a scroll too?”
“You want me to tattoo you?” His eyes were wide.
“Yes, please.” I held out my arm. “Right here.” I pointed at the inside of my wrist.
“It will hurt.”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind.” He hesitated, then stood. “What’s the matter?”
“I want the other ink. The blue.” Tap strode with purpose from the room and returned a few minutes later much the same way. He took his glasses off again and set them on the low bedside table next to his lamp. Gently, he cradled my wrist in one hand and took up the quill with the other. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He bent over my wrist, more intently focused on the small design for me than I’d seen him at any point for himself. The pain of the quill piercing into my skin was sharp and hot but bearable, and it was fascinating to watch the curves take shape under his hand. He traced the lines twice, then wiped away the droplets of blood and ink with the cloth. It was perfect. As he released me, I pulled my wrist close so I could admire it. When I glanced up, I gasped.
He was putting the same thing on his wrist.
“Tap.”
“Feather?”
“I don’t know what to say. But that feels…”
