The neighbor, Leda, had had more than a little wine herself by the time she’d come over to complain about Zelli’s earlier tone then plop down into the seat across from him and tell him everything about her former spouse. Zelli understood even less now than he had that morning.
“Some people will not bend,” Leda said bitterly. “Strength will carry you both through harsh winters and short summers with less to store for the returning cold. But there can be too much strength.” She gestured with her hands and her cup, splashing quite a bit. “Will not bend. Like arguing with a wall. Is not even the keeper of their heart allowed in?”
Zelli gently took the cup from her, replacing it with tea. “It’s been many years, but you still have strength yourself, to keep throwing yourself at that wall. That suggests that you also do not bend. Perhaps this is a case of two walls.”
Bree had approached Tahlen while Zelli had been listening to stories of stubbornness and walnut trees. The two of them were now engaged in discreet conversation. Zelli met Bree’s eyes without meaning to and quickly looked elsewhere.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Zelli said to Leda while encouraging her to finish the tea. “I know nothing of hand-fasting or even close friendships. I have no lover and I do not think I am a wall. But I’ve grown up behind them, and I would… I would give up the tree and all that it offers.”
Something flickered in Leda’s gaze.
Zelli gestured uncertainly. “If it hurts you, perhaps it hurts her too. In that case, even though fights bring you close for a time, I would leave the food and the shade to her, and hope it made her happy. I care for very few people, but I don’t like to think of them in pain. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I will go to bed. I’ve had a long day and will have an early morning. If I… if I am here next year, I hope to find you happier.”
He got to his feet before he could be drawn back down, and, in an instant, Tahlen was at his shoulder. Zelli did not look up at him. “I am going to bed. Your evening is, of course, your own, but I wish….” He could not wish for Tahlen to do anything. “Perhaps you should rest as well, or at least sit down.” He nodded to Bree, even giving her a faint smile. “If I don’t see you again, may the fae guide you well.”
“Tialttyrin.” She nodded in return.
Zelli turned to go upstairs, unsurprised that Tahlen would follow. That would likely stop at his door, where Tahlen would request that Zelli lock it and then… go find Kat Ryssa, or someone else, or do whatever it was he did when alone.
Sewing by the fireside came to mind. Zelli did his best to banish the memory, but if Tahlen was from a noble family, he would not have been raised to repair his own garments. Even Zelli, far from the capital, with no interests and little money of his own, did not do his own sewing, although some worked in needlepoint as an artistic pursuit.
They reached his door, where Tahlen would leave him. Zelli could not stand it any longer.
“I know you don’t want to speak of it, but I am sorry.” Zelli said it to the wall, his head down. “I’m sorry if you knew them, and if you didn’t. I’m sorry that something horrible was done and that you feel pain over it. And I’m sorry that I didn’t know.”
His grandmother knew. That was obvious now. The other guards as well, if Bree was any indication. And they’d known Zelli didn’t and hadn’t told him. Tahlen never would have, but Grandmother….
“Why would you know?” Tahlen surprised Zelli by meeting Zelli’s gaze when Zelli turned around. “The fate of one small house didn’t seem to bother too many at the time. And you were a child.”
“Weren’t you?” Zelli was proficient at math. He could note when the old queen had died and how many years ago it had been. “You were a child too, or barely more than.”
“Zelli.” Tahlen directed his eyes elsewhere, then took a breath. He put his shoulders back and returned his gaze to Zelli, unbothered once again.
A wall, Zelli thought, though he couldn’t fault Tahlen for it. Tahlen might not want to say it, but hehadbeen barely more than a child. It was incredible he’d made it through, even if doing so had also left him this way.
“And Esrin?” Zelli had to put his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out. “Tell me you are not all that is left.”
“Zelli,” Tahlen said again, not begging, barely asking. “There are a few,” he explained once Zelli stared up at him in distress. “Scattered. Our lands are gone and any money with them. Because it was treason to defend the old queen’s plans, and though we were old, we were not descended from Earls. Not directly. Not enough.” He flicked a look over Zelli’s head. “There is an estate, I think, that was left for any survivors by one of the rulers who followed the queen. Out of pity. I’m not sure it’s still there.”
“Were you…?” Zelli dropped his voice. “Were you a fighter then?” At not-quite-fifteen, Tahlen might have been, although Zelli didn’t want to think of him being present for those events, his family killed. Zelli had only Grandmother, really, and couldn’t bear to imagine it.
“No.” Tahlen might have left it there. But he glanced down to Zelli and then swallowed. “I tried, at the end, but I barely knew anything. One of our guards pulled me back and got me and Es away.”
“You were just children.” Zelli stared at his hand on Tahlen’s chest and couldn’t fully believe what he’d done.
But Tahlen didn’t react to it. He said, “They don’t always fare well, innocent or not,” as if Zelli wasn’t now determined to learn which family had done this to the Vallithi and if that family still stood or had fallen to their ambitions.
“But you didn’t hide your name,” he worried, thinking of two children and one guard running for their lives.
“By the time I started looking for work, it didn’t matter. There was so much fighting, the murder of one family was no longer worth talking about.”
Zelli considered what he knew of Tahlen, and of Esrin, and suspected they might have used their family name regardless of any danger.
The mail over Tahlen’s chest was surprisingly warm. “Your guard friend trained you?”
“Me and Esrin, yes.” Tahlen’s hand was warm as well atop Zelli’s. “Though given the opportunity, Es discovered her talents in the kitchen and preferred that to sworn service. I wonder if she would enjoy it more in kitchens of her own, but she is content enough.” Zelli must have looked doubtful because Tahlen added. “Your family has been good to us. Better than other families we tried to serve. I willingly gave your grandmother my oath.”
“And that is why you had to come with me?” Zelli asked with horror and tugged his hand away to briefly bite his fingertips. Tahlen frowned, either for that or failing to understand Zelli’s fretting. “I hope we continue to be kind to you. To reward you. You’re… I won’t say comforting, for I never know how I feel around you, butsure. You always seem very sure. Although, of course now I learn that you must not have been, and that, though you carefully aren’t saying so, you suffered before you came to us.”
