Tanin didn’t know how old he was.
That was a baffling concept to her. And more than his allusions to his past, more than Ikvar’s warning, more than anything, that told her what his life was like. Because how could someone in the modern day not know how old they were?
And not just in a joking way. Not in a, oh, I lose track way. But genuinely, couldn’t even look up the information, something that can never be known kind of way.
What kind of place was Rik-Vane that he’d never know? How sad was his life with his mother that she didn’t bother to keep track of her son’s aging? What sort of position were they in that they couldn’t even afford that small of a luxury?
“What was your mom like?” She asked, forcing her voice to be calm and level. “Besides soft, I mean.”
“Sad,” he said immediately. “I don’t have a memory of my mother where she truly smiled. She didn’t live long enough for me to get strong enough to protect her. Her life was one of misery. I’m glad it ended before it stretched out too long.”
“You don’t mean that.” She shook her head.
“I do,” he said, voice cold and harsh. “My life was not a happy one. Neither was hers. To pretend otherwise is a lie.”
“But that’s…”
“Do not pity my mother. On Rik-Vane, suicide isn’t something to pity. It’s not something to grieve. It’s a way out. For some, it’s the only way out. Those people who choose to do it themselves before someone else does it for them are considered powerful in their way. My mother survived Rik-Vane untilshedecided to end it. There’s strength in that.”
Garnet didn’t know if she could see it that way.
But then, she also couldn’t imagine Rik-Vane. A place so terrible, it was given up on by the authorities meant to protect it. A place so horrible, they didn’t even bother going after the criminals that were lost inside. She couldn’t imagine a place so awful. And that was a privilege of hers. It was so easy for her to pity this female she had never met, because her own life wasn’t nearly so bad that she would ever have contemplated ending it all.
She had no right to judge what anyone did there. Not Tanin’s mother for choosing her own way out, and not Tanin for what he had to do to survive and escape.
Chapter 21
Tanin
She was beginning to see.
Tanin looked down at Garnet’s face, but she was staring at his chest with a tight expression as she contemplated his words. His history. He could practically see the fight waging within herself at what she heard.
Was this, finally, what would push her away?
She had to get away from him. It was the best thing for her. If she told him no, that would be enough. He could respect her refusal. Tanin had done many bad things in his life, but at least he could hold his head high and say that forcing a female was not one of them. So, if Garnet told him no, that he was too terrible to consider, he could back off. He could get himself under control.
But he had to hear her deny him. He had to hear her say no. He wasn’t strong enough to relax the arm he still had banded around her waist on his own. Her softness, her sweetness, were too tempting to release without some kind of encouragement.
Yes. This had to be the moment. When he talked about his mother’s death. She would see now that she shouldn’t sully her hands with someone like him.
“What was her name?”
“What?” His brow furrowed, not understanding the question.
Garnet lifted her gaze. Looking him in the face. Her hands tightening on his jumpsuit, clinging harder onto him.
“Your mother. What was her name?”
He hesitated before saying softly, “Ray. Rayllian. Her name was Rayllian.”
“And your father?”
Tanin grunted. “I don’t know. She didn’t like to talk about him, so I learned not to ask. You don’t ask personal questions on Rik-Vane. Not even to your own mother.”
“What do you remember about her?”
“Not much. She used to take odd jobs to earn enough credz to survive, or to barter directly for food. We lived in a little shack in the back streets. Sometimes, she let males fuck her if they paid well enough. But she didn’t let me see that. I only figured it out later.”
