“Tansy’s or Nevander’s?”
You tell me. You’re the empath.
When Seren reaches the goldwood boat, Nevander is waiting. He takes Seren’s hand, steadying him against the sway. Seren briefly considers feigning a fall, just so Nevander can catch him. But that’s not very kingly.
“All right?” Nevander asks. Probably not about the rocking boat.
“Enough.” Seren takes stock of Nevander’s expression. Nevander’s still so locked-down when they’re in public, but Seren’s grown to recognize the smallest changes. “Is something wrong?”
Nevander glances towards the bow, where Folly is telling some made-up story. Tansy scuffs the deck as the others listen, rapt.
“I don’t know,” Nevander says under his breath. “Folly asked how well I know Valerian.”
Seren frowns. “Why?”
Nevander’s own frown is the slightest crease of his brow. “He said it was nothing.”
From most people in this realm, that would be reassuring. “But he’s human,” Seren says. “Which means he’s a liar.”
“A liar with one true eye,” Nevander says.
The ropes uncoil from the palace dock. Nevander’s arm settles around Seren’s waist moments before the boat lurches forward. Seren leans in. He’ll have to set aside the question of Valerian, and what Folly saw with his fae-touched eye. Another matter to investigate later.
First, Seren has to fix what his mother broke.
Thewoodsarecrispand brassy with autumn. Everything is familiar and strange at once. Seren once sat at this creekside and dreamed of running away. Now that he has, the water looks so peaceful. The trees are so quiet.
Nevander prowls the tree line nearby. Partly out of vigilance, partly to give them privacy. This conversation is for Seren and Tansy alone. Two halves of a bargain that hurt everyone it touched.
“Are you sure?” Seren asks quietly.
Tansy wrinkles his nose in a show of disgust. “Make up your fucking mind. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
This is what Seren wanted, but not with Tansy sobroken.
One month after Gevain’s betrayal, Tansy’s injuries fully healed. The emotional scars run deeper, and Seren shies from prying with his empathy. He can only imagine the hurt of flirtation turned into torture.
Seren could bind Tansy to Summer now. He has jurisdiction. But Tansy doesn’t want that anymore. His light seems dimmed, like he’s lost the wonder and delight that made him want to stay in Elladar.
The plain tunic and trousers don’t help. Seren’s never seen Tansy dressed so simply. Best not to stand out too much in Wymond, though.
“Let’s get this over with,” Tansy says, hitching his leather rucksack over his shoulder. “You look too freaky like that—I can’t stand it.”
“You’ll have to get used to humans,” Seren points out.
Tansy rolls his eyes. “I don’t mind humans. It just looks wrong on you.”
Seren’s been practicing this glamour for the past week, because he knew this day was coming. He wears an approximation of the guise he wore for twenty-one years. What he thought was his face. Muddy blond hair, rounded ears, dull complexion. Subtle changes to his jawline.
He’s kept his golden eyes, though. Eyes are trickier to glamour, and Seren wants to retain one element of his true appearance. The glamour’s just to avoid causing a stir on the streets of Wymond.
Seren glances over his shoulder. At the signal, Nevander vanishes with his own glamour. His invisible footsteps barely crackle. The sound is deliberate, so Seren doesn’t feel alone as he walks the same path Haelwen once walked.
Twenty-one years ago, the Queen of Summer stole a child and left her own son in a house of strangers. Today, Seren rebalances the scales.
“Alard must be home,” Seren says as they walk. “That’s his cart, between the woodpile and the vegetable patch.”
He hopes for Tansy to retort. Something about knowing what a woodpile is. But Tansy just trudges at Seren’s side, unmoved by this strange new realm. He doesn’t want to be here, Seren realizes with a pang. He just wants to leave Elladar.
