Page 12 of Garlands and Gauntlets

I hold my hands up. “I just mean…not everyone gets to have a family like yours.”

His jaw tightens. I think he’s about to say something cruel–then he rakes a hand through his hair and growls. “I know they’re great,” he mutters. “I just…it’s complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because they don’t approve of my work.”

“Really? What could they possibly—”

“It’s complicated.”

I pause and reallylookat him. “Why is everything complicated with you?”

He scowls.

I immediately feel guilty.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “That was unfair.”

“No,” he says. “You’re…you’re right. But…I just don’t really know you that well and I’d rather leave it at that, okay?”

I nod, unsure of what to say. I want to understand him, but Vaelin keeps himself so tightly guarded. He invited me to his family home, I talked to his parents, his sister–but I still don’t really know much about him. It feels like I’m trying to smash through a brick wall.

And that is, of course, difficult for me to imagine.

I’ve never had a problem smashing through walls.

We stop at the edge of a little park, the trees strung with lanterns that cast a soft, golden glow. There's a family of dwarves skating on the small pond at the center of the park, their children laughing. Vaelin leans against a low stone wall, watching them before his gaze snaps to me, accusatory.

“What is it about you?” he asks.

I blink. “What?”

“You,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “You’re…you. All big and kind and…irritatingly noble. You’re exhausting, you know that?”

I raise an eyebrow. “How am I exhausting?”

He steps closer, looking me over like he can figure this out with some visual cue.. “You’re just…too much,” he says. “Too big, too loud, too…good.”

I blink, thrown off by the shift in his tone. “Good?”

“Yes, good.” He says it like it’s some kind of accusation, his words sharp but not cruel. “You go around handing out your last coins, sharing memories of your mom, and charming my parents like it’s nothing. Like it’s…easy.”

I frown, trying to follow his logic. “I don’t do those things because they’re easy. I do them because they’re right.”

He shakes his head, his jaw tight. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”

“Realize what?”

“How infuriating you are.”

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, he steps closer, his hand brushing against mine. It’s such a small thing—barely a touch—but it feels like the world tilts on its axis.

“Vaelin,” I breathe.

He looks up at me, and for the first time, I see something raw and unguarded in his eyes. Something that makes my chest feel tight.

“You make it hard to keep my distance,” he says quietly.

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