Tahlen pushed his plate to the space at the table next to him.
Esrin reached down and pushed it back in front of her brother. “That is yours,” she scolded Tahlen. “Hewill have to get something light if he hasn’t eaten in that long. I’ll get something.” Which she did, sweeping away to the other side of the kitchens, leaving Zelli to stare after her, and then at Tahlen. His feet caught up before he did, walking him slowly down the length of the table. He passed guards making furtive, encouraging faces at him that made his stomach turn.
He didn’t think he could eat, but approached the end of the table and Tahlen anyway, barely aware of people shifting to make more room.
He tripped, his focus solely on Tahlen, and nearly fell onto the seat at Tahlen’s side, only to recover, then stumble gracelessly at the sight of the tabby curled up in Tahlen’s lap.
Tahlen had one hand buried in the cat’s fur. The cat didn’t even crack one eye to consider Zelli, content in ways Zelli could barely imagine.
He got clumsily into his seat, nodding absently when Esrin set a bowl of porridge in front of him.
“What’s the cat’s name?” Zelli felt as if he was always asking that.
“Tippit.” Tahlen stared sternly at Zelli until Zelli reached for a spoon. “Reas named it.”
Zelli nodded for this too. “I’m glad Tippit was here for you while you waited for me to wake up.”
“Waited to see if youwouldwake up,” Bree corrected gently. “Because no one was sure you would. You were dead. I was there. Nothing ‘nearly’ about it.”
The cat made a small sound of protest as if it had been petted wrong or held too hard, then stood up, shaking off Tahlen’s hand.
Esrin raised an eyebrow at Zelli, as judgmental as the cat now jumping to the floor. “I’d hoped I was done watching innocent people die.”
“I’m sorry,” Zelli apologized to her too, and to Bree. “I was trying to keep the Villucatto or any others from destroying us, and I didn’t think I mattered enough to be a threat to them.” He took a deep breath. “Grandmother seems to think it’s over now and that it will be a while before we have to deal with anything else. It should mean none of you will have to fight, or see anything like that, for some time. Itshould. I asked them for that too... Youareall right?” He rounded on his audience, looking everyone over in concern. “Grandmother said only four of the others survived?”
“The weather and the sinkhole took the ones we couldn’t get to,” Wain offered with some cheer.
“Thankfully, your momentary intended was already done for by then,” Fy added, wincing afterward, although Vint didn’t move to smack him or even glare at him.
Zelli gave a start, turning to Tahlen.
Tahlen looked back at him, his expression set, his eyes very dark. “I chased Kear of the Villucatto down and I killed him.” He paused, as if waiting for Zelli to object or flinch. When Zelli only swallowed, Tahlen went on. “He attacked your grandmother.”
True, but that was not what had had Tahlen on edge yesterday before Kear had ever said a word. “He attacked your home,” Zelli corrected.
“He attackedyou,”Tahlen responded instantly, daring Zelli to argue.
Zelli bit his lip instead, then glanced up. “You look tired. You ought to sleep.”
Tahlen’s challenging expression did not fade. “I couldn’t.”
Zelli hunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” Tahlen raised his voice to demand, something so shocking that even Esrin froze.
“Why did you?” Bree wondered, breaking the silence and drawing Zelli’s attention to her, which gave him a moment to breathe. “I mean, you could have waited, right? Until the actual negotiations? Why go out there like you did?”
Zelli put the spoon down with care. “The fae made me as I was then on purpose. They wanted others to see. Then they sent the storm… orwerethe storm? I’m not clear on how they do things. There was going to be fighting no matter what anyone did. But I didn’t want people harmed.” He tried and failed to smother the tremor in his voice, willing Bree, and Tahlen, to understand. “I didn’t wanthimharmed. I couldn’t have that, even though he no longer wants me.”
Tahlen moved without warning, pulling Zelli to him, then falling back into his seat with Zelli half in his lap. He bent his head while Zelli was mid-gasp and buried his face in Zelli’s hair, his breath too fast against Zelli’s ear. He wound his arms around Zelli’s ribs to hold him, tight, then gentle, then tight again.
Some of the porridge must have spilled and the others must have been as startled as Zelli, judging from their exclamations. Zelli held in his noise of surprise but not his slight grunt of discomfort. His position, twisted sideways on Tahlen’s lap, made the area around his scar twinge. It should have been embarrassing as well, to be picked up and held like this, but the others had heard worse and Zelli couldn’t make himself care about them.
He put a hand on Tahlen’s arm and closed his eyes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Tahlen whispered into the top of one of Zelli’s neat braids that had to be Tahlen’s work. Tahlen must have done them while sitting with Grandmother at Zelli’s bedside, where he had been for hours, waiting to see if Zelli would wake. He sounded furious but Zelli didn’t think he was. “You didn’t have to do that to be valued.”
“That wasn’t why,” Zelli informed him shakily, then wasn’t sure that was true. He turned his face toward the warmth of Tahlen’s chest as much as he could, and Tahlen raised his head and moved an arm to bring Zelli’s legs up with the rest of him. On another day, Zelli might have objected. But since he hadn’t expected Tahlen to hold him ever again, he stayed where he was, although the scar over his wound pulled and then throbbed.
