“As long as it takes. But you’ve enough to frown over, so don’t add that to your worries.” Orin lowered his voice, not whispering, but if the two guards wanted to hear every word, they’d have to come closer. “Be happy I’m not being sent to the far coast, or over some mountains that have snow all year round that take ages to cross.”
“I willnotbe happy.” Tiiran didn’t bother to lower his voice. “What about this would make me happy? We were supposed to talk.”
“Yet, I think you could use rest more than staying late to chat with me.” Orin once again ignored Tiiran shaking his head to deny his nonsense. “Youdolook tired. Moreso than yesterday. Restless night?”
Tiiran looked away so Orin wouldn’t identify the frustrated, bewildered, confusinglongingthat had kept him awake for hours and distracted him all morning. It was already too much being near Orin without any warning.
“Not even the pretense of a snarl?” Orin murmured when Tiiran didn’t speak, bringing Tiiran’s gaze back to him. Orin was very serious. “I’m afraid Iamgoing to have to take you in hand, kitten. Come on.” He turned toward the rest of the corridor, regarding Tiiran’s frozen face with so much interest that Tiiran nearly ran back into the library. But then Orin moved a few steps and Tiiran followed him without hesitation, merely glancing up in question once they’d passed the two palace guards. “I will walk with you to the kitchens,” Orin explained. “You can eat whatever they have left. And if you like, you can tell me some of what’s upsetting you while we walk.”
“You have time for that?” Tiiran glanced up again, vaguely aware that Orin had to slow his pace for the much-shorter Tiiran to stay alongside him.
The look he received made him feel like a brand-new assistant again, struggling to catch up to where everyone else already was. That look said Orin would make the time, though it might mean him running to meet his boat.
“Oh.” Tiiran lowered his head, walking wherever Orin went without checking his path. He wouldn’t waste more of Orin’s time then. “I’ve had things on my mind,” he admitted.
“Palace things?” Orin wondered quietly.
“No.” Tiiran tossed his head. “Well, not entirely that.” He adjusted the bag again, then felt it lifted from him. He sighed but let it go. The weight was likely nothing to Orin, at least not for the short time he’d carry it. “Orin,” he began slowly, only to force the rest out in a rush, “if I asked you something that you might find strange, you wouldn’t laugh, would you? You’d do your best to answer?”
“I would.” Orin’s answer was spoken roughly, but just as quietly. “It took some time, but I like to think I’ve earned your trust. Or am starting to, at least. Your shoulders aren’t tensed up around your ears anymore in my presence.” Tiiran scoffed because that had to be Orin teasing him. “You can sit and talk with me, sometimes without snapping, for an hour or two at a time. I’m quite proud of that.”
Definitely teasing.
Tiiran looked up and over, allowing Orin to tug his sleeve so he didn’t bump into a corner. “That took time… so you must have wanted to do that?”
“Did you think I was forced to sit and talk with you?” He couldn’t gauge if Orin was teasing. Nothing in Orin’s tone had changed to explain why Tiiran got that impression. “Like teaching a horse not to spook so easily, it’s challenge and reward, and a privilege to be trusted.”
Even a bee was a better comparison than a horse, though horses were large and often considered beautiful. “You’re not going to slip a bridle on me,” Tiiran muttered, unsure if the thoughtful hum from Orin was a joke or if Orin was trying not to laugh at the image Tiiran had handed him. “I’m more of a pony anyway,” Tiiran added in a grumble, pleased when Orindidlaugh. Though he still didn’t like Orin thinking of him asspooked. He attempted a correction. “Like feeding a stray?”
Orin coughed to be rid of his laughter. “You said that almost on a sigh. Heard that before, have you?”
He noticed too much.
“The old Master Keepers used to say it, usually when Lanth,” Tiiran took a steadying breath, “would take extra time to teach me something, or would call me away before I’d snap and set me down to study somewhere quiet. It helps, being somewhere quiet by myself. Or with someone who isn’t…. I don’t know a word for people who aren’t difficult. People I understand or who don’t expect me to be like them. I can be around them without my shoulders doing what you apparently think they do. Or snapping. Or snarling.”
“Then I am even more pleased I took the time to sit with you.” Orin gave him a look that was impossible to read by moonlight. “But you aren’t a stray anymore, Tiiran. Maybe you should think about that.”
He had to slow his steps more when Tiiran faltered. Tiiran hurried forward to make up the distance. “You mean behaving better even with difficult people.”
“I do think you are capable of it, but that’s not actually what I meant.” Orin stopped although they hadn’t reached the kitchens.
A high-walled garden was to one side of them, blocking some of the light. Tiiran had never been assigned garden work back when he’d been in service, but at the palace, the ornamental gardens were open to anyone. Each garden had been built by rulers past in different styles, with different plants in them. The fae liked flowers and fruits and certain plants, or so it was said. The gardens contained offering places for the fae for that reason.
Tiiran lifted his head and briefly closed his eyes to inhale the heady smell of roses—or what he thought was the smell of roses. When he opened his eyes, Orin was watching him.
“This is what I meant. Something of this.” Orin exhaled, then turned his head. “You no longer have a stray’s worries. It’s time you considered what you want.”
“What I want?” Tiiran studied the side of Orin’s face. He had no problem identifying his immediate wants. “I’m tired. The soles of my boots are starting to give and my feet hurt. I want to rest, and I want my work to be finished.” He took a second to consider, then added more of his current desires. “I need to eat but I don’t want to. And I want—” He shut his mouth with a snap right as Orin turned back to him.
“Those are things for now.” Orin didn’t sound angry, but there was something in his tone that was almost like Po’s impatience. “What about the future. Your future, the library’s future. Either or both. What would you like it to be?”
Tiiran stared up at him, and when he couldn’t think and nothing came out of his mouth, lowered his gaze to Orin’s chest. Then he moved it to Orin’s shoulder when he realized his face was growing hotter again.
“Tiiran,” Orin said his name on a sigh, “if things were calmer. If Master Keepers and more assistants returned to the library. If every day for you was not a battle for resources and you stopped long enough to think of what you want for yourself, what would you…?” Orin went silent there, then bent his head as if looking at Tiiran more closely, so Tiiran met his eyes again. Orin’s eyebrows went up, then down. “Have you never thought of this before?”
“Well….” Tiiran actually felt his shoulders tense and muttered a quick, “Fuck,” under his breath because Orin hadn’t been teasing about that. Hedidraise his shoulders nearly to his ears. But there was no one around to hear him but Orin, so he made himself speak. “When I first came here, when I was learning things the others already knew, I thought that I’d like—that Iwant—to show them and my worthless parents by becoming a Master Keeper someday.” He covered his mouth for a moment, breathing hard. “Does that seem childish?”
Orin’s eyebrows positively flew up this time. “No,” he answered readily. “It seems very possible—provided that when the library has Keepers again, you don’t offend them.” Tiiran’s heart was beating quickly but he took a moment to glare at Orin anyway. Orin, unintimidated, carried on with another question. “Is that all you want?”
