Chrys/Laine (freckled) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-02-24 21:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | chrysanthemum |
Tulip would very much have liked to have just, you know, a day of calm when she got back to Summerview. That wasn’t so much to ask, was it? She had spent two weeks travelling the world, changing faces, languages and attitudes more than she had in five years. It had been exhausting, and she had the impulse to glance in the glass of Veritas to make sure all of her was in place.
Any yet, it was so wonderful. Being stuck (if one could call something one did voluntarily as being stuck) as Maeve for five years had made her forget the taste of letting loose. Julius forcing her to confront a moment where she had lost her footing and stripping her of secrets that she used as shields had shaken her. Everyone protected themselves, everyone had their coping mechanisms, walls and a dozen tricks up her sleeves happened to be hers. James demanding she expose so much so fast hadn’t helped either. But getting out of Summerview? Hiking through the mountains and having tea with someone she was negotiating with and could match wits with on Oksana’s behalf? Crawling through the vents of a heavily protected mansion, kicking ass at mahjong in a smoky basement in China, relearning steps to her the dances her grandmother had danced as a child in her home country — all reminded her of who she was. So what, if she had less secrets from one of her friends? She still had it. Whatever it was that had caught the eyes of two Fair Ones who wanted to make deals with her to elevate her status, that kept her alive and thriving for so long. Her encounter with Danny had ensured she hit the ground running once she was back stateside, and you know, that was fine actually, because she was built for that. Hence the reason she went straight home the morning after, and ran with Oksana’s suggestion of Tulip to give a good first impression on Xi’s latest LT to arrive in town. Her trip — and a beautiful gown — enabled her to walk into Veritas with confidence and grace. Chrysanthemum wasn’t hiding, and she kind of admired that. Her power was controlled, but still unabashedly there in the way only someone who was intimately familiar with their own capabilities could do. She didn’t even wear a proper glamour — proud of what she was. Greeting the upper class was a process. There were whole routines and announcements depending on what sort of Fae you were, what your station was, and why you being presented in the first place. Then further broken down by where, the time of year, and the type of Fae you were greeting. But they were far from this Lady's home, they were in Maeve's territory now. Julius's too, though it was her's first and she would dig her heels in if she had to. So every bit, every step and motion was calculated. A bow instead of a curtsy, I'm here to work instead of simply look pretty, the way her head bowed out of respect, acknowledging the woman's station while still maintaining eye contact to show she wasn't subservient. Even the bow she choose was one to display a dancer's balance and grace, raising herself up in a languid and fluid movement. "My Lady, may I welcome to to this place I call home and Sanctuary in peace. By the root and thorn that binds us all, none of mine will do you any harm unless provoked. May I say, while the King and Queens may be still lost, their beauty flows true in every step you take." Because the high born really did love their flatter didn't they? Even so, there was a good amount of sincerity in it, she really was lovely. Chrysanthemum smiled back at her. She couldn’t help it. The flattery truly had hit her in the right spot for the day. This place, Veritas specifically, still bothered her in a way that bothered her that it bothered her. “Hello,” she said with a calm, even voice. There was something about the woman that intrigued her, if she was being honest with herself. The way she held herself when she was greeting her. Formal, yet not as stepped up to as others had done. And I assure you, there will be no provoking Chrysanthemum thought silently in her own mind because to say such a thing out loud, when she did not know how her own ones would behave, would be stupid above all else. And then she got a whiff of her. Traces of fae magic, undisputable, but this woman was not fae. And was that? Julius’ magic. The faint traces of violets and mulling spices, of mossy greeness. Magic that she would have recognized immediately even if she never saw her brother again in her long life. “What does bring you here then?” she asked in the same voice. The one she used to practice with when she was younger, when her parents were still teaching her to be a proper lady. It probably had something to do with Xi, she figured. That was the way things usually went. Or even as likely, it had to do something with Thistle. The fact that she knew though, she decided to keep close to her chest - for now. Soft fingers with perfectly shaped, shiny manicured nails glided down even softer silk as she straightened from her greeting, taking in the other woman’s reaction with a practiced eye. It had been sometime since she had been around someone straight from Home so to speak, and it was going to take her a moment to get used to the way her magic swirled around her — so lively, vibrant and confident. It wasn’t used to having to be restrained, or not having it’s kin about, and she wondered if Julius’s had been the same way, or was it always as it was now? Tulip gestured to the small couch across from her, “May I sit?” That was one of the techniques that came naturally to her, refined from years of negotiating with words rather than a blade in a setting and skin like this. Always secure your welcome before opening your mouth too much, makes it more difficult to send you away and easier to relax if it feels like they are speaking to a guest. The perfect posture stayed even as she sat down, ankles crossing in her heels, “I was curious. This town is rather small and unassuming for someone used to the sort of things I think you are.” Julius razzed her for assuming quickly, judging someone and wrapping them up in a neat bow too quickly. But there were enough factors going into this assessment that she didn’t think it was an insult. Besides, it was a compliment anyway. “Of course. Sit,” Chrys gestured down toward the couch, studying her just as she’d been studied. The woman was elegant, to be sure. Held herself well. It was something to be said about her at least. How one carried themselves was important. As the woman spoke, Chrysanthemum turned to her more readily. Yes, what she said was true. Back home, she had everything she could ever desire or need. This place wasn’t what she was used to and she doubt she’d ever be, but there were other factors at play, whether her guest knew it or not. “True,” Chrys said simply, throwing an ever so slight shrug out there. “But there are definite reasons I’m here. It’s just different. I’ve seen much worse.” She had, in her travels. Fae and others in places they shouldn’t have to be. That noone special should have to be. It was just one reason the movement was happening. Small and unassuming wasn’t bad in comparison. Chrys threw on a smile. She’d already been here for two weeks and was growing used to it, ever so slightly. That first day, she might have given a much different answer. “I can assume you sought me out for a reason?” she questioned pleasantly. The thank you for the invitation was given in the form of a nod and an almost professional smile as she got comfortable, the act summoning one of the sharply dressed waiters. He happened to be one of her former employees who had jumped ship hoping that, Veritas’s customers would be better tippers than her own, and she wondered if it had worked out for him. “Rum and 7 please, darling.” Oh, she was definitely spending too much time around Julius. “Have you?” Tulip asked her, genuinely curious as to the answer. Had she seen worse? There were certainly ugly parts of The Summerlands, the Fae rarely did anything by halves and that included beauty, cruelty and love. It was just that she couldn’t imagine what would make this girl want to explore them. Though from what Julius had said about their father and what she knew about Xiofan, the type of people that she liked to collect (her among them) it was probably better not to underestimate her. Something must be pretty special about Chrysanthemum though, to be tapped to help head a Revolution in a world unfamiliar to her. Briar hadn’t even had that, and she had done a handful of jobs for Xi in the past, a healthy mutual respect between them. Then again, she didn’t exactly exude team player or I take orders well did she? “Thought I would see if I could help you get integrated at all, while harmlessly satisfying my own curiosity?” Because sometimes the best way to play word games with the Fae, was to act like you weren’t. Be direct, be open, or at least, 85% open. Lies that ring of truth are the best keys to open doors. Maybe 60%. Tulip really was curious, though she had a bit more to go on than she implied. “Well, that’s interesting.” It was as close to a thank you as Tulip was going to get to her offer to get her settled. “I suppose that’s fair. I don’t usually venture out to places like this, but it couldn’t be helped.” Again, it was close to the most she was going to get right then. “I don’t hate it so far.” The woman was beautiful. More beautiful than most people had the right to be. No wonder Julius was around her in some way, shape, form that she hadn’t had a chance to figure out yet. “And to answer your question, I have seen worse. Sometimes curiosity gets the better of me, I have to admit.” She almost laughed at that, but kept her composure. Just another thing that frustrated her father about her. Not that she much cared. “Now, how did you hear that I was here, if I may ask?” Xiofan. Or Julius. Usually, anyone Xi collected was relayed to her, but she could have just collected her and...no. There was a feeling in her bones that she was barking down the wrong avenue with that one. It was hypocritical of Tulip to give vague answers when she dug for clarification, and yet, “Summerview, or Veritas?” The waiter returned with her drink and she gave him an indulgent smile before sliding a tenner to him across his tray, returning her focus to her hostess of sorts, “It’s a little small for me as well, truthfully.” Both of them, though Julius would probably roll his eyes at the latter. And he ought to be careful, lest Chrysanthemum grow on her, because that was just her sort of talk. It also spoke a bit less of a rich, pampered girl who had everything she wanted, and went against one of her theories that Xiofan had...Brainwashed her or something. Not that it wasn’t still possible, Tulip rarely dismissed things that quickly. “Curiosity is a badge of honor, and lovely thing like you? Why shouldn’t you indulge?” Hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and approval as well. It was true too, while their mother’s face wasn’t known to her, and she could see traces of Errol in her eyes or the way she moved, Chrysanthemum had an allure different than the sharpness in the males of her family. Something that pulled one in, made them want to have her eyes settle on them, to just exist in her gravity well. The question earned her a soft laugh and a raised eyebrow over her glass, “Now, if you don’t think I felt your distinct presence on the island the moment I returned, you are downplaying yourself, and I don’t think that’s something you make a habit of.” Chrysanthemum may radiate a more subdued confidence than what Tulip had expected, but that Fae arrogance combined with that of the rich and taken care of rang as true as her magic. Somehow she doubted the girl ever, well, doubted herself. The answer given was true, but not quite the true answer. That was how she had known that Chrysanthemum was at Veritas after all. “But I do keep my ears to the ground, and someone moving about with the connections you have did cause some talk.” Who didn’t like to be talked about though? It was a compliment, really. Tulip had spent too much time around the Fae not to be curious when they came to town, no matter who they were, but Julius’s estranged family that had been hand picked by an off and on employer of Briar’s? The Universe only had so many coincidences in the deck. Chrysanthemum nodded. She was right. Of course, she was flattering her, trying to get some sort of information out of her. That much was clear, but she didn’t mind it. A friendly voice to talk to at the moment more than made up for whatever slight sneakiness was going on. “Of course. So many people know I’m here, You’re right. It’d almost be more surprising if people didn’t know about me.. I’m not exactly keeping a subtle profile,” she admitted. She waved for the waiter, who came over to her and disappeared after another request for a drink. “What’s your name, if I may ask?” she questioned. Half-name or less, she expected, if she’d been around Fae. Their way may have rubbed off on her. The curiosity about the magic around her still hadn’t faded either. She was going to find out about that before the end of this conversation. “So that I know who I’m speaking to,” she smiled and for a second something flashed like there was something behind it, some trick or secret hiding behind her teeth. True true. Even if one wasn’t sensitive to magic, or the individuality of it, especially with the Fae, this was still a small town. New arrivals were noticed, though ones that looked like they didn’t quite fit lingered on people’s minds. And the fastest forms of communication were, as always, telegram, telephone, and telewoman. Gossip was worth the deliverers weight in gold, if you had the right giver, and the right recipient who know what do with it. “Subtlety is not as important as class, so I think you’re fine.” Hmm, her rum would be better off chilled, she wondered if she could get Julius to set a bottle aside for her. “Tulip.” The name, when she had chosen it in 1978, was honestly a coincidence. Tulip had come to her at the end of the Hippie Era, wanting to shuck the disgusting detritus of the human’s Wars and petty conflicts, their attempts at peace when the world around them was anything but. The flower power decade was gone, at least for her, but she took a bit of it’s beauty with her. Besides, she needed a taste of class after roaming around with beatnik poets, frankly. “And do you prefer Chrysanthemum?” Playing a little dumb didn’t mean she was going to hold back completely, especially when the other woman was in on the game. There were several lifetimes where she had played daft, but it was never as Tulip. Godmother. Lover. Negotiator. Grifter. Sure, but with a knowing smile, never an airheaded one. Chrys almost laughed. Another damned flower. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that this Tulip was messing with her, but she wasn’t. Tulip truly was her name. Was she as unfond of her name as she was, she wondered. With subtle looking over her, Chrys shook her head. “I prefer Chrys or Laine, but since you know about my real first name, you may call me Chrys if you like.” The waiter came back and Chrys slid some money over the tray, just as Tulip had only a few minutes before. She took the whiskey and pulled it back to her lips, taking a long drink that fired up her throat just enough that she loved it. Julius knew how to pick good liquor, at least. She’d have to try some other varieties while she was here, for however long she was. That waft of faint magic again. Tulip’s own this time. A gentle scent of citrus, one Chrys knew well. What was she anyway? It was driving her a little nuts to not know and that she’d probably have to ask. “Tulip. Funny coincidence, isn’t it?” she mused, shoving another smirk her way. Bright red lips curled in amusement even as her head inclined slightly, acknowledgement at permission given and thanks all at once. The alternative name was noted with interested and stowed away in her mind, as well as the fact that she gave such a shortened, gender neutral version of her own, “Chrys it is then. I have to admit, I’m surprised. Doesn’t happen often.” Then again, Julius certainly wasn’t Julius’s real name. But he had been trying to blend in and compensate for hatred of his home that she assumed Chrys didn’t share. Still, that didn’t stop her from raising her glass, a cheers to the welcome surprise. Unlike some people, she enjoyed those. The rum was warm in her bloodstream. A good contrast to bare shoulders and a relatively thin silk gown. Part of her wanted to ask what the other was drinking, and how she was finding Human alcohol in comparison to the stronger, often more floral or fruity liquor that was most likely common where she came from, but decided that was low on the priority list. Speaking of which, she laughed quietly, the air of an old inside joke in the sound, “You’re not the first person to think that.” The smile stayed, a genuine echo of warmth behind it, as she thought of Julius’s face when he saw her tattoo. “Surprised at what?” Chrys asked, her voice neutral, though there was a spark of curiosity behind it. “That I have another name too, depending on who you are or that I go by Chrys at all?” Her own lips curled, amusement filling the muscles, forcing them upward. She was beautiful. How many times had she had the same thought now, but the way she held herself was enviable, if Chrys hadn’t been who she was, anyway. Chrys adjusted her blouse at the corners by her hips as she felt cool air of the room slip in against her skin, so quickly that some might not have even noticed. Another sip of her drink brought her eyes closed and a delicate hum to her lips. “I’m not, am I? She asked, knowing full well whose words she was probably inadvertently repeating. Chrys just wanted her to say it, to be the one to bring up her brother, so she didn’t have to. “Who else thought that?” The options were limited. Who knew them both? Who talked about them both. It was obvious, but she wasn’t going to say anything. Ah, that smile. It was a good thing for Tulip that Chrys seemed to keep it hidden away for special moments. Between her eyes, the freckles, and whatever it was about her that Tulip couldn’t pinpoint (or replicate, and in her case that was a high compliment), the expression was enough to waylay her thoughts momentarily every time. “Oh no, not the multiple names.” A brief, practiced wave of dismissal at that idea, “But Chrys is a rather unassuming name for someone refined like yourself.” It walked a fine line between flattery and being a sincere question, aided by the fact that she stated it as more of an observation than anything else, intrigue still, in the focus of her eyes like she was trying to peel back the other woman’s layers were merely a look if possible. For a brief moment, she lamented not bringing a shawl, or the fact that she left her coat with the check in desk and could not offer it to Chrys. What a nice touch that would be. Although starting to look after Chrys the same was she looked after her brother was a dangerous slope to step foot on. Was that how they were paying this? That was just fine. Tulip leaned forward towards her, a slow Cheshire smile transforming her face. The line of her shoulders and the slope of her back following like a precise stroke of a painter’s brush as it brought a dancer to life on canvas, “I’ll give you a hint, My Lady, I’m quite sure he’s eavesdropping right now. Two of the few variables he can’t control getting cozy must be making his blood curdle.” Delight and mirth in her eyes, like this was a shared game they had played a dozen times instead of a careful, first time dance. Chrys was an unassuming name, though she didn’t mind it. It was something she’d gotten used to over the years and was much better than the mouthful that Chrysanthemum was. Even if Tulip was blowing smoke, she knew part of what she was saying was right. That didn’t matter though. They had more important things to talk about than what name she went by and why and whether they suited her or not. Tulips own smile was something of beauty. The wide-mischievousness of it reminded her of a cat, which was much more of a compliment than one would think. Cats were beautiful, graceful creatures who demanded respect. Something which just made them that much more beautiful in Chrys’ eyes. “Ah, yes. Thistle,” she hummed, amusement slicking her voice like oil, letting it flow out easily. “I’m quite sure he is eternally annoyed right now.” A thought which pleased her like nothing else. Just something else to keep them talking, other than the little game they were playing. “I was wondering when one of us would end up bringing him up. I can smell his magic on you,” she admitted, watching her with her eyes slowly closing, ever so slightly, just enough to let her know she was serious. And that she was watching her. With that smile she could see even more of an echo of Julius in Laine, but there was also their father too. It was something she disliked immensely, the stories she had heard from him, the brief time she had seen him, all combined with the way he wore his magic so brazenly even here made her dislike any reminder of the man. But Julius’s real name was enough to distract her, Thistle, hm? Lovely. Tulip really should have been able to narrow that down further herself, seeing as the masculine flower names was...Very short. “It’s good for him, really. Needs a little reminder now and then.” Plus, he was adorable when he scowled, but Laine probably didn’t want to hear that. Both siblings were eye catching, moreso when they allowed themselves to be expressive. Like a painting or a sculpture come to life. There was a reason warnings were taught to children in Lullabies and nursery rhymes early on, how could something so lovely be resisted? Tulip leaned back into the lounge couch again, a sip of her drink before she set it down on the end table. No, she hadn’t realized that his magic was that strong on her. Distinct enough for a woman who hadn’t even encountered Julius for 200 years to recognize it. It was that Deal, it had to be, and it gave her something to chew on. Her head tilted at Laine, “And is having a connection with your brother a point in my favor or against?” That was a question she didn’t quite have an answer to. Was it a point for or against? Her instincts told her against, but not as much as she’d have thought. She didn’t hate her brother, after all. It was more of an immense annoyance and hurt, if anything, but she wasn’t inclined to tell Tulip that. Tulip and Thistle. She wondered for a moment if they were lovers, then inwardly groaned. That was absolutely something she did not care to think about, even if the thought was a valid one. “Against your favor,” she said. “Though I can see the appeal of having his magic used on you.” Or having him in your life, she added with a silent thought, stamping the statement like an official waxed seal. “Am I to assume he’s got something to do with why you’re really here?” she asked without emotion, without her face changing at all. Oh, really? The fact that Laine didn't exactly think more highly of her because of her connection to Thistle had been a possibility that she had considered but was still hoping she could avoid. It wasn't the worst thing she had to crawl back up from and compensate for. Part of it did confuse her though, “I am curious what you mean by that, what appeal do you see in it and what do you think it means?” Tulip was a part of Briar, a slice of her magnified, but cushioned enough by layers that the questions started out as just that, tinted with amusement, ending in such a way that it nearly sounded like a test. Nearly. Tulip was rather good at ambiguity. Tulip's eyes narrowed, amusement slipping out for a practiced, refined impatience, “I dislike repeating myself. I have already answered this.” Thistle had no control over her, and she was here to sate her own curiosity. It would have brought her here sooner or later, though finding out Laine had a strong connection to the woman causing such a stir certainly added some urgency to her steps. “I am not so naive as to think Thistle alone brought you here, same as I.” There was some steel in her eyes then, a sharp awareness about something much colder than merely a family estrangement. Tulip let it linger in the air for a moment heavy and cold before she relaxed and waved a hand, “He is a more pleasant topic, however. The other can wait. If you are as stubborn as he is, I may be able to assist bridge the gap, somewhat. The fact that he hasn’t spoken to you yet shows he needs all the help he can get.” A sip of her drink and a sincere, deep exasperated sigh, “Voluntarily or not.” Chrys sighed. Honestly and truly. She felt about as exasperated as Tulip sounded. Well, some of that t ime. The conversation wasn’t going smoothly, but it didn’t need to.Real conversations went up and down, back and forth and if they were going to sit and talk about her brother, it was going to be a real conversation. “I just mean since you’re not fae, having fae magic on you might be appealing. I promise you it wasn’t an insult. Or a judgement. Not that aspect of it anyway.” Associating with Thistle? Yes. Being cloaked in some kind of fae magic? No. And, the narrowing of the eyes. Tulip was annoyed now. Maybe rightfully so for halfway being called a liar, but then again, she hadn’t technically lied and quite technically, she had already answered the question. The woman slipped a hand through her hair, tucking a chunk of curls behind her unglamoured ear. “How exactly are you thinking you can do that? Some reunion of sorts?” she questioned, ignoring all the rest in favor of continuing the topic of her brother. That glare had a little too much knowledge behind it for her tastes, one that might have scared her if she were a lesser woman. “Because I doubt he’ll go for it. He is….well, he’s Thistle.” There was something undeniably appealing to dancing this particular tango with someone as Tulip, when she didn't have to hold back her wit and cleverness, and better yet, that her only impression of her was that she was tied to Thistle somehow. “Hmm, not if it makes things so obvious, I think.” Because it would make things a bit difficult on certain jobs, wouldn't it? But her shoulders dropped at Laine’s clarification, even if she was still a bit wary. “It’s inevitable, is it not? But certain grounds may be better than others.” Another sip of her drink as she took her time answering the rest of the statement, eyes following the other's movements, drawn towards the movement whether she wanted to be or not. Laine was a pleasant medium between her father and her brother, proud of who she was and yet not waving it around town imposing his mere presence on the town whether they wanted it or not. It showed confidence, yet self-control, and she respected that. Finally she gave a soft sound of amusement, raising one delicately shaped eyebrow, “You say that as if you know him. A great deal can change in 200 years.” “Do people really change that much?” Chrys questioned genuinely. Maybe he had, but then again if he had, maybe he would have reached out to her before now. Regret would have overwhelmed him. It wasn’t as if she was hard to track down. She’d been ‘home’ for centuries. He wouldn’t have even have had to come home himself, just called her somehow. Stubborn. He still had to be stubborn. “He’s still clearly stubborn, though I can’t deny that I am myself,” Chrys admitted. Oak and Ash, she missed him. Hated him and missed him and wanted to hug him and strangle him at the same time. It didn’t matter though. “How long have you known him, may I ask?” It might determine how well she took her information on him. If it was only a few years… Tulip gave the question it’s due respect and consideration, thinking of herself at 25 or even a hundred years old. So different, and even Julius when she first met him as compared to now. Then again, she hadn’t given him a chance either, she judged him, just like Laine was now. Ugh, that made her feel old. Even though Laine was a bit older than her. “If they want to. Or if life events force it.” Another pause as she tried to imagine what the Thistle that Laine had known from her childhood, and how much of her memories were real or had been changed by time — along with resentment. “I would call him obstinate, personally.” She drawled, dryly though not with any malice behind it as she sipped at her drink, “I’m sure you are. But I suppose you have to decide which is more important. Resentment and pride, or family and the possibilities that come with it.” That’s what it always came back to, what was worth the struggle, and what was more important in the long run. The answer to that question was one she knew immediately, but she enjoyed the soothing burning of the rum before she answered, “A hundred and forty years, give or take a few.” Which made Laine the only person on the island who knew that tidbit, for good or ill. Chrys listened, her face tight as Tulip spoke to her. It irked her in places that she was interfering, almost guiding her on what to do, but there were points she had too. Still, it didn’t stop her annoyance from starting to bubble. Resentment and Pride or family and the possibilities that came with it. She was acting like she knew him better and it turned out that...she did. Almost as long as he’d been gone, save for sixty years. She was probably more family to Thistle than she was and Chrysanthemum had to figure out just how much that bothered her, on top of everything else. Coming here wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, but there was nothing to do to change that now. “Seems like you’ve known him a long time.” Well, a long time compared to their current life span. “Has he said anything about me to you?” she asked curiously or was her life and her place in his buried just his previous life had been. Ah, maybe dropping that fact was a bad idea. You know, in retrospect. It was a bit like trying to demonstrate that she was qualified to steal something for a client by telling them that she had actually stolen from...Them. In the past, and gotten away with it. It somehow made her point while also painting a number of things in a favorable light, and tainting the image of her in the process. Saying that her opinion on Laine’s brother because she knew him far better and far longer than Laine had, was both effective and not, by the woman’s body language. Maybe she was too close to this after all. The glass of rum was set on the small table on the end of the sofa, “I have. All things considered.” Considering both of them were terrible at maintaining relationships long term, and she wasn’t going into the details with Laine because no one needed those details, frankly. One finger circled the rim of her glass in a smooth circle as she smiled wistfully, “Of course. He once convinced a pack of notoriously distrustful Werewolves to let him help find a child with an impassioned speech involving you.” Fondness and sincerity in her face and tone, even as composed and subdued as she ever was. “He what?” Laine sat up straighter then, the first true look of surprise in the entire conversation etched on her face. Convincing werewolves to find a child wasn’t out of the realm, but using her as essentially word bait was. It was stupid to lie to a fae and she didn’t think that Tulip was stupid. Far from it. Tulip’s own body language was telling her just how truthful she was being. So what if it annoyed her that this woman had known Thistle that long. He hadn’t walked away from her, but had walked away from his own sister. Her own mind was conflicted on it. Maybe she’d convinced herself that Julius didn’t care about anyone. But yet, he did. It didn’t matter anyway. Not anymore, she told herself. Too much time had passed, no matter what Tulip was trying to get her to do. She was too confused for this. “What could he possibly have said to make that happen?” Involving me, she added with a silent word. Oh, is that what it took to truly catch Laine off guard? Get a real sincere, unmasked reaction from her? Good to know. But the actual question was hard to answer, because though Sebastian had been too caught up with everything that was happening, it had all caught up later. His little speech had been more telling than he had probably intended. The girl seemed to forget that Thistle hadn’t exactly left home on his own terms, or why he had left in the first place. Why he wouldn’t want to go back. It wasn’t too surprising, skewed perspective on situations were easy when emotions were involved, or when childhood was part of the equation. The question was; how to detangle these old strings? “I think you should ask him for that. It was sincere, and it would lose something, coming from me, don’t you think?” A rhetorical question, because Tulip honestly didn’t know how to truthfully retell his words without possibly accidentally revealing that Julius thought their parents valued Laine so much more than they did him. Even if it was true, knowing what she knows now. “I spent a long time judging him on bits and pieces of knowledge and old impressions. I have come to regret it,” Boy, it was rare that word came from her lips, “I hope you don’t continue making that mistake as well, Laine.” With that she stood, another slight bow in her posture, introductions not enough to give the comfort of familiarity, the forgetting of traditions she had been taught in the courts, their very different standings in the world. “My Lady, it was a delight to finally meet you. I hope we shall speak again soon.” Laine felt a rise in her, a fiery annoyance. Even if the woman had a point, she’d continued to imply and straight up tell her that she was in the wrong. Maybe she knew him better than Laine did. Maybe a lot of things and some of those things being that she was trying to help, but it didn’t stop that knee jerk reaction blowing off in her chest. It’d take a while for those feelings to settle. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well and I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,” Laine said, forcing her jaw loose. “Good day, Tulip.” Laine had no doubt that was true. Of course she noticed the gesture. She couldn’t say thank you or she’d appreciate it, even if she actually did. It wasn’t done, but it did make her want to talk to Thistle, to see if he even wanted to make such an effort to come back to her. It was a long bridge that needed to be expertly mended or risk breaking apart all over again. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. |