Forgive Me If I Dont Talk Much At Times. Its Loud Enough In My Head.

“Forgive me if I don’t talk much at times. It’s loud enough in my head.”

— Unknown

@thesingingvalkyrie

I know the Spring Court warriors have the prettiest fae armor everrrrr 🥺 imagine those as the armor Tamlin wears during the war-band camp times

Nicole W. Lee, from "Even the Dust"

At least Briar seemed as jittery outside as he was inside. Her eyes followed him across the room with what he couldn’t discern as desperation or adoration. The first made more sense, but the way her cheeks turned pink made him worry that it was the second.

Why? Tamlin blinked and carefully organized his paperwork into a few, neat stacks. He couldn’t deny that even after a wonderful night of sleep, he was a bit on edge after yesterday, but her apology was appreciated. He knew that he should follow it with a thank you, but found that the words became stuck to his throat. 

“Sorry. Um, I don’t think I’m used to being well rested.” Tamlin scratched his head, reaching for a pitcher of water and two crystal glasses which were set to the side on a raised table. “Are you thirsty?” 

He poured two glasses of water and returned to sit at the desk, also reaching behind it for a plate of pastries which the staff left there every morning. She looked hungry. “I do apologize for my current state of existence. I am used to functioning with Lucien by my side and he is on leave to be with his mate, Elain. They are expecting an addition to their family before long.” 

Finally, Tamlin found the piece of paper which he was looking for and spread it across the table. It was a detailed map of the border. Before she could see confidential information, he quickly glamoured it away. “Show me the last place you saw Caiden.” 

Stone Walls & Sacrifice | Tamlin & Briar @springcourthighlady

Tamlin was more than ready to leave by the time he finished listening to Briar’s rant. He let her finish — he wasn’t that impolite. His brisk footsteps echoed across the marble flooring and he looked over his shoulder, hoping that he was not followed. 

Yet, he was not that lucky. The prospects of desert with Lucien and Elain were slipping further away by the minute. Tamlin stilled when she called his name, pressing his lips into a thin line. Why won’t she go home? This is life, in Spring, right now. We’re all worried. We’re all frustrated. We all have family in need of aid. No one gets special privileges. Not even me — 

He didn’t even have privacy anymore, or space to think. Though, when he glanced over his shoulder, he was relieved to find some regret in her eyes. 

Only his friends called him by his first name. He wasn’t big on enforcing rank, but found it odd how casually she addressed him. 

He pressed his tongue into the edge of his teeth, forbidding the quick retort which danced on the edge of his lips. I will not lose it. I cannot. They cannot see me as a beast. 

He turned, stuffing his hands deeply into the pockets of his jacket, to hide how they’d tensed into fists. Running from his problems wasn’t effective, but neither was forcing himself into a corner until he lost his temper. 

Tamlin saw her hand reach for him. He wanted to back away. It had been over two years since a woman had touched him, apart from Calanmai. He flinched, but did not move. He wasn’t sure he could. 

She cares for me? I have met this female once. 

Tamlin swallowed, gravely still. “I understand your attachment, Lady Briar. Yet, if you cannot trust me as High Lord of Spring, no plan I create to bring Caiden home will be enough for you.”

He stepped away, lowering his green eyes to the ground. “If you’ll excuse me, it has been a long day.” 

19th century wax seals