"Why would he not let you see me? Speak to me? That makes no sense, papa!" Tatienne did not understand. He was dancing around the issue, not going into any sort of details, and until he did, she wasn't going to just guess that that's what had happened. How was she to know that there was two people living inside of his head, his heart, and not just one? She had never even heard of such a thing before. And she had only ever known Adrien, not Bastian. And he had always been well when he had been around her. Always. And if he wasn't, she had never known it.
"Then tell me, mon pere. Make me understand." Tatienne's voice pleaded with his as his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace and he pulled her close to him. Her own hands moved to encircle his waist, though not completely, her small palms resting just behind his hips, near the small of his back. She wanted to be angry with him. She WAS angry with him, but at the same time, how could she be when he seemed so... lost. She had never seen him in such a state before.
Eyes closed as his voice danced against the skin of her neck and his hand laced fingers with his own in order to pull them both to where he was before her. Green hues fell upon him as he began to kneel, a small frown pursing her lips together. She sighed as he kissed her knuckles, and then she pulled her hand away, taking a step forward to wrap her thin arms around his head, cradling him against her chest as she kissed the top of his head. "Je t'aime, papa. That has never changed."
"I have to go." This decision was as sudden as her appearance in the room had been, and she pulled away just as quickly. "Please do not follow me. I need... to go home." To call Tristan, to call her grand-pere, to check on Mathieu, to distance herself from him so that she could be angry again because she was not ready to forgive him, because she wanted to make him suffer as she had suffered.