It was funny, in a terrible kind of way. Tavin actually missed Natheniel.
Maybe it was the circumstances. They all found something to regret—they could look back and see the warning signs, or what they could’ve done differently. Things didn’t need to end that way. Yet they did, so why did he keep considering it?
A part of Tavin wanted to think that it was completely Natheniel’s fault. After all, perhaps all he needed to do was talk to Imre and Dimas. Maybe he just needed to actually talk about his feelings, put aside the pride, and he’d have the answers he was looking for. But… they all knew his silence was not out of lack of knowing.
It made Tavin consider the other half of the story—that all of them had been a part of it. Kiah mumbled about how this had only been a matter of time; how Natheniel should’ve been told when he lost his feather necklace. If they couldn’t avoid what ended up happening, then at least he would know that it wasn’t his fault.
That it wasn’t really him that nearly killed her.
Tavin knew what they were thinking as they waited for Natheniel to return from Qizar. “Things aren’t quite ready yet. We’ll tell him soon, but, for now… let’s just put this in the past.” So, in that way, it shed a new light on how Natheniel had interpreted the past few years. Going back to normal wasn’t an option. Normal, perhaps, would’ve been the walks in Lelishara—the picnics in the garden, the dinners untainted by work. And those fantasies died a long time ago.
At that thought, Tavin’s remorse turned more into annoyance. Natheniel really did think he was the only person in the world, didn’t he?
Tavin sighed, and turned his gaze to Ihu. Either by a sense of guilt or obligation, he’d been watching over them since Natheniel disappeared. They’d grown sluggish in the time without their owner, but that was to be expected given what they were to him. It had never been as simple as a boy and his bird, no matter how willingly Natheniel believed it.
Tavin walked over to them, gently patting their head with his finger. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” He didn’t really want to go, but he hadn’t made the trip here to stay in his room.
He left his room and started to go downstairs. People were already gathering, from the sounds of it; he’d assumed there would’ve been a lot of them, though that didn’t keep him from getting anxious. He knew they didn’t mean to do it, but… it was definitely one of those times when he wished they wouldn’t.
“There are plenty of guards here,” he mumbled to assure them. It only worked half the time, but it was a habit Dusek encouraged. “Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m going to go out there, socialize with a couple of people, then hide behind Aunt Samone for the rest of the night. Everything will be fine.”
Samone was waiting near the grand hall, giving him a small smile when she saw him. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d decided to stay in your room. Are you ready?”
“No,” was his honest response. “But I also know there’s not an option. This is all about keeping up appearances, isn’t it?”
She bit back whatever she was originally going to say and gestured to the people around them. “Well, there’s at least no formal introductions. I’ll probably be with Abassi and Seun if you need me. Remember: you have to be out in public for at least two hours. I know it’s hard, but once that’s done, I don’t care whether you go back to your room.”
After all, there was no faltering—no mourning—when all eyes were on them. They needed to prove that they’ll continue to stand under the pressure.
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Nodding, Tavin gave a weak smile, waved, and walked off. The sooner he met his requirements for the night, the sooner he could leave and go to bed. Nothing would make him happier than to be alone in his room.
He wandered to the table of assorted pastries and fruit, debating if he actually wanted to eat something. He hadn’t had much of a lunch and the ball was supposed to serve dinner, though at this rate he didn’t think he’d be able to do it. His head was already starting to spin and the anxieties of his spirits were making him nauseous.
“Hey, it’s the prince!” The hand on his shoulder startled him, sparking a bit of laughter from the person who did it. He shouldn’t have been surprised that it would be Uzoma, Abassi’s eldest son. Another reason to wish Natheniel was still here… “Why do you look so down? Don’t tell me you’re bored already?”
“I was never interested to begin with.” Tavin stepped away from him, hoping he got the hint.
“Are you implying there’s nothing fun to do?” Uzoma proved to have no concept of personal space. “Come on, live a little. It won’t kill you to act like you care, will it? You’re half Stone, so I thought you might act like it. I hear the Mikkels were pretty social too until Imre came around.”
Tavin shot a desperate glance across the room. Samone didn’t notice it.
Uzoma, going off of Tavin’s silence, decided he was going to talk even more. “I mean, Casper was a rebel when he was younger! Lucas always seemed like a pretty fun dude. Most people with his spirit are also fun dudes. So why are you so boring? You’ve got his spirit, don’t you?”
“Not all people inherit the same trait from a spirit,” Tavin mumbled. “Some don’t even need to inherit any traits at all.” He almost wished he had Lucas’s charisma. Maybe that could get him out of this situation.
“Then why aren’t you more like your mom? Lydia would’ve lit up this place in no time! Does it not work that way for saints or whatever?” Uzoma stepped closer, and Tavin stepped back. “She loved big parties like this—“
And at that comment, his concept of a social filter had practically disappeared. “They died in a big party like this! Do you really think I’m going to enjoy myself in the setting of half of my nightmares? When you have a spirit, you don’t just adopt a part of their personality. Their memories and fears are like your own. I’ve felt what they had to go through before they finally died and I know their thoughts in those last few minutes. Until you understand what that feels like, just back off and mind your own damn business.”
“No need to get so defensive. All I was trying to do was make a simple comparison.”
Tavin forced his way past him. “I’m going to go find something else to do.” He could talk to people closer to Samone, right? It would definitely be better than staying here, though he already felt pity for whoever was the next person Uzoma would end up pestering. All he knew and really cared about was that it wouldn’t be him.
He wandered right next to Samone before uttering to the man and woman she was talking to, “Your son needs to learn some manners.” Oh, he had much stronger words than that. But he knew better than to say them.
“Oh, was Uzoma bothering you?” Seun looked around them, but easily gave up on her search when she couldn’t quickly spot her son. “I’m sorry. You know how he is. He doesn’t mean any harm in it, he just doesn’t really understand personal space. I’m sure he’ll understand if you try to talk to him.”
“Next thing you know he’ll start doing whatever he wants because he knows you’ll excuse it,” Samone pointed out dully. “He’s getting to the age where that’s the only thing stopping him.”
“My son is nothing less than perfect,” Abassi stated matter-of-factly. “With all due respect, Lady Samone, you are wrong. If there are any problems, then he will overcome them in time. I was once like that, but you see me now as a fine man.”
Samone only smirked, muttering so quietly that only Tavin could hear her, “I hear that didn't go so well for his first wife.”
“Come on, we’re in public,” Tavin mumbled back. He still had to hold back a laugh both at the comment and the completely clueless looks of Abassi and Seun. Samone just seemed happy to see him grin.
“Care to share what you find so amusing?” Abassi prompted.
“Something between Nokae,” was Samone’s only hint of an answer.
“It must be amazing having such a close-knit family,” Seun remarked. “Having all that support has to be reassuring during tough times like these. I’m always envious about those sorts of things.”
They continued a general conversation from there. Samone talked much more than he did, though he did occasionally contribute his opinion on something. Eventually the two moved on to other parts of the room, interacting with most of the other nobles that were there. Like she’d promised, she let him leave after two hours; by that time, he was starting to get dizzy and had already talked to everyone that he would’ve known.