A Court of Graves and Flowers

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Rhysand is right.

The words hung heavy in the air, a pebble dropped into a still pond sending ripples of surprise and curiosity out from their center. Callisto sat up beside Tamlin, watching him trace patterns in the grass with a frustrated hand. The moonlight illuminated his furrowed brow and set his blond hair aglow.

"What are you talking about?" she prompted, her voice devoid of accusation, only genuine concern.

Tamlin finally turned to her; his gaze filled with a vulnerability she hadn't witnessed before. He admitted what he'd kept concealed in Rhysand's presence, his voice low and laced with shame. "Your brother pointed out that I'm not strong enough to protect you. And he was right. I'm not even sure I'm strong enough to protect my territory."

"No. My brother is an idiot sometimes," Callisto huffed. Her grip tightened on his shoulder before disappearing completely. Tamlin finally faced her, only to see that determined look on her face as she pulled at the grass. "I'm strong enough to protect myself."

Tamlin was wise enough not to argue. But he circled back to their earlier conversation. "I've been selfish in the past you know. And I could be selfish again and admit that I want you to stay here in the Spring Court, Callisto. Because having you here feels like I can breathe again. Like I'm alive."

Callisto's head snapped up at that, her eyes meeting his unwavering gaze. "Of course, I don't want you to leave. But I want you to be happy. And safe. The way you should've been happy and safe if I hadn't—if I hadn't betrayed Rhysand all those years ago."

It was Tamlin's turn to glare at the ground, the memory of her death always weighing heavily on him. He was surprised when Callisto's gentle hand came into view, taking his clenched fingers in her own.

"It's not your fault," she whispered, and his heart seemed to stop beating in his chest. "We were looking for someone to blame, and with your father dead, it was easy to blame you. But you didn't bring me to that clearing, Tamlin. You weren't the one who swung that sword. You were a victim of your father's scheming, just as we were. And I—I do forgive you."

Her words made the breath whoosh out of him, and he dared to look up at her face. Her open face, smiling at him. His throat constricted, and he fought the sting of tears in his eyes. "I don't care who brought you back. I'm just grateful that they did. For the first time in a long time, I feel...blessed by the Cauldron. Even though I probably don't deserve it."

Callisto's expression softened further upon hearing his words. She may have forgiven him, but clearly, he still needed time to forgive himself. Something inside her, some emotion she couldn't put her finger on, made her lean forward and give him a light kiss on the cheek.

Tamlin froze when her lips meet his skin, and Callisto only smiled as she pulled back. "You're a good person who has made bad decisions, Tamlin, but you are still worthy of good things. Even broken things still have value."

With those reassuring words, she stood up and unfurled her wings. Tamlin only watched her from the ground, wondering if he was in a dream. But if he was, he didn't want to wake up.

"I'll see you back at the manor," Callisto murmured in a silent promise before shooting up into the sky.

Tamlin watched her disappear into the night, the fabric of her gown twinkling in the darkness made her look like a shooting star.

 ⭐ | 🌙 | ⭐

The next morning, Callisto's steps faltered on the way to breakfast, drawn by a haunting melody spilling from within.

Curiosity piqued, she decided to find out who was behind the song. When she looked inside the music room, her breath caught in her throat. There, bathed in the morning light, stood Tamlin, a fiddle nestled under his chin. His fingers danced across the strings, coaxing forth a soulful tune that tugged at the strings of her own heart. It was a lament and a yearning, a song woven from both sorrow and hope.