Page 11 of Garlands and Gauntlets

My family all looks at me like they’re mad I cut Theo off.

Then, to my relief, we all move on.

Dinner is served; my mother takes a moment to pray to her elven gods, and then we’re all getting helpings of the roast, potatoes, homemade rolls. My dad talks Theo through the whole meal, eager to share his recipes, while my mom keeps asking questions about Theo’s life–which he clumsily dodges.

But other than those half-assed lies he attempts…he handles it like a champ. He laughs at my dad’s jokes, compliments the food like he means it, and even takes my sister’s jabs in stride.

After dinner, we move back to the sitting room, cider mugs in hand. My mother insists on lighting the hearth and adding some kind of enchanted log that makes the flames shimmer in gold and green. It’s beautiful, but I’m too busy stealing glances at Theo to fully appreciate it.

He’s sitting on the too-small sofa again, hunched slightly. Calliope insists on re-braiding his beard, this time weaving mistletoe and holly into it.

He looks…at ease, like he belongs here. Like he’s already part of the family.

And that’s the problem.

Because I’ve known him all of three hours, and all of this is built on a lie.

He doesn’t know that I was planning to scam him, that I spent the first hour of our acquaintance trying to figure out how much I could get out of him. He doesn’t know that I didn’t invite him here because I’m nice–nice is not howanyoneI know would describe me–but because I didn’t know what else to do.

And now he’s sitting here, smiling at my mom’s stories, complimenting my dad’s cooking, and being exactly the kind of person they’d want me to bring home for real.

I am so, so screwed.

Chapter seven

Theo

Vaelin’s family is everythingI never knew I was missing.

They’re warm in a way I didn’t think people could be–complete strangers, welcoming me into their home and treating me like kin. His mother fusses over me like I’m one of her own, piling my plate with pastries and refilling my cider before it’s even finished. His father listens with the kind of calm patience that makes you feel seen, and it reminds me of my own. Calliope teases and taunts, but it’s all good-natured…and mostly delivered at Vaelin.

And Vaelin? Well, he tries to act like he’s above it all, like he’s somehow separate from this big, messy, wonderful family. But I catch the way he relaxes here, the way his eyes soften when his dad tells him he’s proud.

He loves these people, even if he’d prefer everyone think he’s just some mysterious rogue.

I try not to let myself get too comfortable; this isn’t my place, it’s Vaelin’s. But when his mother hands me another pastry and calls me ‘dear’, something in me cracks.

Maybe it’s selfish, but I let myself soak it in.

Later, as we exchange hugs and I stoop to leave the bakery, I don’t know what to say. I started this night thinking I would spend it alone, at the cheapest tavern I could find…

…and now, Vaelin is here.

I don’t want this night to end.

I turn to him, open and close my mouth. He glances at me, then cocks an eyebrow. “You good?” he asks.

“I was just…” I pause. “Your family’s incredible.”

“They’re alright,” he shrugs.

“Alright?” I shake my head. “Vaelin, they’re amazing. They just–” I pause, trying to find the words. “They love you. It’s so obvious.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stuffs his hands in his pockets and keeps walking. I frown, falling into step beside him.

“You don’t appreciate them, do you?”

He stops abruptly, spinning to face me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

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