A court of Unshed tears

Chapter #12

This so far had been the best week of Tamlin's life.
His parents had taken Basil to summer court to befriend the high lord and his heir. Asher took Amrenthana somewhere in the spring forest, likely trying to win her favor. they won't be back for a few more days. So Tamlin was left alone, to do whatever he wanted.
"Do you need anything else Violet?" He asked the older kitchen maid, holding two baskets.
"No," she huffed a laugh, "but I am very grateful for your help, your highness."
Tamlin winced at the name.
"Please call me Tamlin. "Your highness" feels too much like my father."
"I don't think anyone would mix you up with your father, but as you wish, Tamlin."
He made my way to the berry field picking a variety of blueberries, raspberries and strawberries.
Tamlin sighed in contentment. He had never in his life felt so relaxed.
A fresh spring breeze and clear night sky. He had never felt more at home.
He started picking some berries when he heard a familiar voice in his head.
Hello.
He dropped the basket and turned around. There was no way she was here right now.
"Luna," he whispered into the night.
"Hi," he watched as she landed in front of him.
She must have flown here.
"Obviously," she crossed her arms, "why else would my wings be out?"
He sighed and turned back to Resume picking berries.
"Do you really have to read my thoughts all of the time?"
"How else would I know what you are thinking, you hardly ever speak."
He turned to her, "we have only ever had two conversations—
"And that's only because I read your thoughts. If it weren't for my powers then you wouldn't talk."
He frowned, "what do you want?"
"I'm sorry, was I interrupting something?" She uncrossed her arms and took a step back as if to leave. But he didn't want her to leave. He decided he liked being with her rather than being alone. He just didn't know how to say it without being weird.
"I can stay," she stepped back towards him.
He nodded, "I guess your powers are useful sometimes," he grumbled.
She smiled, "So what is the heir of spring doing picking berries?"
"First of all I am not the heir of spring, and secondly, my family is away so our kitchen maid is going to teach me how to make berry muffins."
She snorted, "muffins?"
"Yes," he continued to fill the basket realizing how stupid he sounded. The heir of spring making muffins.
"I thought you said you weren't the heir?" She smirked, picking up the other basket.
He didn't feel like commenting on the mind reading again.
"I am not the heir," He assured.
There was absolutely no way He was. Or at least that was what his father told him.
"Why are you here?" He asked before she could ask any more questions about the heir of spring.
"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly.
He turned to her, surprised that she came here to see him because she couldn't sleep, not some ulterior motive.
"So you decide to come here? The dwelling of your enemies?"
"You have never claimed to be my enemy, Tamlin," her brows furrowed.
"I have never claimed to be your friend either," he murmured, but it sounded all wrong as soon as it passed his lips.
"I'm going to be honest Tam," she said sitting down next to him.
He had to stifle a smile at the nickname. He had never been given a nickname before.
"This could be the main reason you have no friends. You have bad communication skills. Which is a good thing because I can read minds. Which also means that I know somewhere deep down, you really want to be my friend," she smiled looking up at him.
Why did she have to have such a pretty smile?
"We can't be friends," he said before she could comment on his last thought, "we are from rival courts."
"So? We aren't breaking any rules," she crossed her arms.
Why was she trying so hard to make this work. She barely even knew him.
"Why do you want to befriend me? For political gain? To gather information on spring court?"
"I just want to get to know you better," she frowned.
His eyes widened in surprise. She wanted to know him better? Why? He wasn't interesting? He wasn't of any importance? He was boring, usually most deemed him too boring to spare a second glance. So why on earth would the literal daughter of night be the first to want to know him? She had to have an ulterior motive.
"Is it so crazy that someone might actually want to get to know you?"
"Yes," he breathed, tuning to face her, "it is."
Her moonlight eyes shifted with an emotion similar to anger but not.
The night breeze ruffled her night black hair.
He watched as she picked up the other basket and started to fill it, "Tamlin, from now until the end of time, I claim you as my friend. Now in order to be friends we have to spend time together. Not for ulterior motives, but because we enjoy each other's company."
All he could do was stare at her. It took all of his effort to dim the light in his chest. He had a friend. It was different than Eris though. It shifted something in him. He felt as though something vital was happening. He just didn't understand what.
Maybe he did want to be her friend.
"Do you want to bake muffins with me and the kitchen maid?" He decided maybe having her as a friend would be nice.
She smiled again.
"I'm not sure I'd be much help. I'm terrible in the kitchen, but I would like to learn."
He nodded, "sure, as long as you don't read anyone else's mind," he pointed at her.
She frowned and slapped his finger away.
"I do have some respect, you know? I don't go gallivanting around just reading everyone's mind."
Tamlin gave her a knowing stare.
"I don't!" She threw a Berry directly at his forehead.
"You don't even know me, you shouldn't assume who I am and what I do."
"But that's what you're doing with me," he retorted, wiping the berry off of his face.
He turned to her and watched as a frown pulled down on her face.
"You're right," she sighed, "I'm sorry."
He blinked at her. Surprise shot through Tamlin at the words. He was usually the one apologizing.
"I think we've got enough berries. We should head back."
She nodded and stood up, her wings vanishing.
She noticed his stare.
"Can't let anyone know about the wings, remember?"
He nodded, "are you really that protective over them?"
"I am— or at least I'm taught to be," she stood up, basket in hand, "do you have any other forms you're protective over?"
Tamlin stood up, "not really."
"Why not," she followed him back to the manor.
"Because... you always have to be ready to be vulnerable or hurt. Regardless of what form you take on. So no, I'm not protective over any specific form."
He noted a scent of sadness in the air. He turned to her.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just... that's a very sad way to live. To always be ready to be hurt. To always be ready for death."
He frowned, "we are children of high lords. We have enemies everywhere—-
"But How can you live if you're always preparing to die?" She interrupted.
"How can you stay alive without being prepared for death," he countered.
"But staying alive is not living."
"Then what is?" He asked, upset. This conversation was stirring up emotions inside him he never thought to touch.
"I don't know," she breathed and they both came to a stop at the manor doors.
"You're really not worried this is a trap or something?" He asked.
"Unlike you, Tamlin, I try to always see the best in people and situations. Plus," she flashed him her tattooed fingers, "your lt not allowed to put me in danger."
"Right," he sighed, opening the back door to the kitchens.
"Speaking of, where are your tattoos?" She asked with a slight smile.
"Glamoured," he narrowed his eyes at her, "unlike you I can't wear night court tattoos on my hand for fun."
He had been worried constantly that his father would find them somehow. He would surely get worse than a whipping this time.
"Your father whips you?" Luna asked quietly.
"That's not of your concern," he said stiffly, entering the kitchens.
There was no way he was going to get into his fathers punishments with Luna. He barely knew her.
And as his father taught him, "we are to bear our own hardships, no matter how much the weigh us down."
Luna gave him a disapproving look that told him she definitely just read his thoughts.
"Tam—
The kitchen maid cut herself off, and her eyes flew to Luna.
"And who is this," she asked, her cheerful voice never faltering.
She really didn't know who Luna was?
Very few people outside of night court have actually seen my face, she said mind to mind.
Tamlin waited to be creeped out but he never was.
I told you'd get used to it, he could hear the smile in her voice.
He rolled his eyes at her, then remembered Violet.
"Sorry," he chuckled nervously, "this is Luna. My...
"Friend," Luna answered, walking over to the big granite island in the middle of the kitchen.
"Well, it's lovely to meet a friend of Tamlin's," Violent said with a little bit too much enthusiasm.
Alright, he gets it. He has no friends!
Luna snorted, "sorry, it's nice to meet you too..." she trailed off.
"Violet," the old woman said with a bow.
"It's nice to meet you Violet," Luna amended, and Violet gave her a warm smile.
Again Tamlin felt something inside him shift. It felt like a piece of a puzzle was getting closer and closer to finding its correct spot.
—-
O Tamlin, at least you had a bit of a warning.