The Secret Side Of Me @springcourthighlady

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?” 

Tamlin let the music lull his badly fractured nerves into the soft hum of active concentration. He set his fiddle away safely and took a seat at his desk. He was no stranger to working late into the night, it was part of carrying his title and the weight of an entire court on his shoulders. He’d not expected to be in meetings past the sun's setting. 

He pursed his lips, watching it descend through the western window, with a wrinkle set deeply into his forehead. Stress was his constant companion and spending time with his found family was one of the only things which relieved it. 

He was missing a dinner with Lucien and Elain to take this meeting, but given the circumstances he knew that they would want him to be here. This concerned children and they had one on the way, soon. The High Lord needed to do everything he could for Spring — not just his own family. Tamlin swallowed his frustration and pushed his bruised heart far, far away.

All she’s trying to do is reunite her family — just like I have. This is the least I can do.

He cracked his knuckles and organized the papers left on his desk, during his walk. Death certificates, as he’d been warned. Too many of them. One was too many and there were five. 

Tamlin glanced over the first two. Tension settled in his jaw. He reached for his glasses to try to clear the headache which had been building for hours. They belonged to two adolescent boys who’d been caught by a wildly roaming Naga after a well-established curfew. 

He’d broken curfew many times as a young boy and it never got him killed. There was still so much wrong with Spring. Thing which even he, a High Lord, could not mend. Even if he spent all his hours patrolling the borders, evil would still find a way to sneak through. He carefully signed his name and moved on, making a mental note to speak to the family himself. 

The third was a sentry. Tamlin’s brows knit, he scrawled his name and carefully pinned a note on sending his regards to the family. 

The fourth belonged to a mother, who died in labor, and her infant who had not survived brought in the fifth. Tamlin ripped off his glasses and shoved them aside, feeling his emotions rise above their careful containment. A sentry was one thing, and a young fae another; but a mother? Her infant? 

What am I doing? I can’t even keep people from dying long enough for new lives to start. I am failing these people. Spring isn’t safe — 

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” Tamlin said gruffly. 

The small brunette, Briar, peeked into the room. She looked better now. She wasn’t covered in mud and her hair was…clean, at least and she wasn’t shivering. Anything else mattered very little. Clean and warm were what he could ensure, not safety. 

“Lady Briar,” He uncovered his eyes, forcing his voice to be alert, and hoped that he did not look as exhausted as he felt. “Feeling any better? Warmer, I hope.” 

Tamlin did not meet her eyes until he finished signing the death certificate of the baby fae. Then, he sat back in his chair and offered her a simple nod. She’d asked for the meeting and had his full attention. “I have heard your plea. Tell me about yourself.” 

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?” 

Pick your bedroom 1-9

She certainly was awkward, but Tamlin found it more charming than annoying. He had his own struggles, socially, it to as often why he stuck with saying as little as possible or relying on Lucien to give the passionate speeches when his mind could not connect with his lips. He could write letters, poetry, music. His command of words was not the problem — it was speaking them. 

He tapped his face ngers on the desk, watching her closely as she stumbled through a few sentences. She didn't ramble when nervous, as he was prone too, which was good. There was so much he'd shared about his life simply because he had not known what to say. The longer he'd been High Lord, the more often he found that people did not want to know about his personal life or hear his burdens. Their own were already far too heavy. He was there as a figure head, a fixer, and High Fae. He did not get the chance to be weak. 

Tamlin pressed his lips into a firm line. She is young, he thought. Elain’s age, perhaps.

The hundred years of life experience of being born fae had not caught up to her in grace, experience, or otherwise. She was much like a kitten in that way. 

“Lady Briar, you do not need to make excuses for yourself in my presence. You are a lot of living beings with needs and priorities and it is my duty as the High Lord to ensure that those are provided for…” 

He swallowed. “As I said before and you astutely noticed, Spring is holding tentative ground without allowing people through our walls. In the last two weeks alone, I have attended more funerals than I would care to admit. The war is over, but death does not end.” 

He cautiously met her eyes. “I understand your concerns for your family. I do…”

Tamlin sighed. She wasn't wrong. Much of this, he did carry alone. Lucien had a family now. The majority of his friends were long dead. The one person he'd hoped to be with was little more than a walking reminder of his pain, at this point. Sometimes, his music and his alone time in nature were the only two things which got him through. “Yet, I hope you understand that I had to learn the hard way about prioritizing my personal feelings over my duties.”

A combination of regret and grief flashed across his face for a mere second before it disappeared. “I am blessed that those moments of weakness did not bring my court to complete ruin.”

Almost — Almost. 

“Right now, crossing the border is just as dangerous to Caiden as it is to remain where he is and I know you desire first and foremost for his safety.” 

Tamlin tapped his feet on the wooden floor. “However, I do have an alternative solution. If you are open to avoiding the reckless pursuit of bringing him here yourself.”

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?” 

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all.” — Prince Edward Renaldi

Makeshift family — those words moved Tamlin. He paused walking and motioned to a nearby bench. She was nervous, he could tell. His austerity could be intimidating and he knew that. Yet, still she tried. She was brave enough to seek him out in his personal time with his own messy, yet much beloved family. He swallowed, cautiously meeting her blue eyes, which were bright as a morning sky, but burdened with the storms of loss and guilt. He knew those storms. They followed him everywhere.

Wouldn’t I do the same for Nyx? For Lucien’s child, soon to be here? I would go to the end of the earth to find them.

Tamlin looked away, fiddling with one of the rings he wore on his graceful fingers. This one belonged to his mother. It would belong to his wife one day — or his mate — should he ever be so lucky. The one love, the one engagement he’d ever experienced burned his home to cinders. Yet, his heart still had kindness to give. Gentleness was the sharpest arrow of all, wasn’t it? He would never regret it. Despite the pain it caused him, it was strong within the beats of his heart. It whispered,

Not my father’s son. Not my father’s son.

“Lady Briar,” He paused after her name. “I am inclined to grant your request, but I cannot let you bring a child into Spring without an adequate way to provide for them.”

“The doors to the public open at dawn.” He stood. “Our citizens bring their desires before court. You are both incredibly bold, quite intelligent, and a moderate bit sneaky to manage finding me in my spare time.”

A real, but slightly disgruntled smile broke past his guard. He had to admire her sheer pluck. “I’d recommend being there early. These things must be on record publicly and my estate manager can find you employment.”

He tilted his head, cautiously, and offered her a hand to shake. “Do we have an agreement?”

the secret side of me @springcourthighlady

It had been a long day — too long. Tamlin was tired and his head ached after spending so long reading contracts and documents with his courtiers and emissaries. He tried not to wear his glasses in court, but now in the soft light of the setting sun, he was happy to have them to assist as he opened his book to the marked page and began to read. 

The rose garden was his place of solace and comfort. Whenever his spirit was worn, he came here to rest. Very few knew of the small path off the manicured way that led to a small grove of trees and wild roses. He’d swung a hammock between two of them and rested between the branches, letting the wind sway him back and forth. 

In the middle of the chapter, an innocent giggle sprang to life from the pages of the old fairytale that he was reading. Tamlin rubbed his head. Am I that tired?

He yawned and tried to focus again on the swirling letters, but the laughter again distracted him. 

He knew that sound. His ears quirked up and his green eyes brightened.

Nyx! 

His excitement was followed by an equally intense rush of anxiety

Feyre. 

Tamlin peered over the hedges. A flash of black curls revealed the toddler running from his guardian.

He did it! His heart swelled with pride. By the cauldron — I hope she’s not too mad at me.

Nyx stopped, spotting him through the branches. “Tamtam!” 

The toddler rushed through the secret entrance and tackled his legs, knocking him to the ground. Tamlin yelped, suddenly upside down, but happily surrounded by hugs from his favorite tiny fae. 

He lifted Nyx up into the air, making dragon sounds, until he saw a lovely young woman peeking around the edge of the brambles. His face turned red, hot, and he stood up quickly. His posture stiffened, though the color didn’t fade from his cheeks, or ears. 

“Lady…” It took him a moment to place her. He did try to keep track of everyone who lived in Spring, but the increasing amount of names was making that difficult. “Rose? Was it? Lady Rose?”