Orian had avoided me for a while after we’d settled here. I’d never gotten the vibe that he hated me or wanted me dead like I initially had with Teighan, but it had been obvious he’d done everything in his power not to accidentally cross my path. That was until I’d cornered him outside the library once, asking if he knew the properties of a fuil plant. Ever since, he’d made more of an effort to acknowledge my existence.

We weren’t exactly buddies, but we’d made progress. We didn’t ignore one another in the hallway, and he’d indulge me whenever I asked a question, though he looked uncomfortable doing so. He’d even started to stop and ask me how I was on occasion, but today, something felt off.

“Did you need something, or…?” I hoped the question was delicate enough to sound inquisitive, instead of confused or outright rude.

Orian stood up straighter. “You have no escort.”

“Um.” I laughed, holding up my soil-caked gloves. “I’m only in the garden.”

Finally, he looked at me, but his expression was so severe it made me recoil. “You should not be alone. Not for a single moment.”

“Oh-kay… Well, I’m not alone now, am I? You might as well join me.”

“I have no intention of intruding on your activities,” he said, looking straight ahead once again.

I snorted. “Little late for that, wouldn’t you say?” He met my gaze again, wide-eyed and visibly mortified. I’d have laughed at the uncharacteristic display of emotion if I hadn’t felt so guilty. “I’m teasing you,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring expression. “You’re not intruding. I’m almost done, anyway.”

He relaxed, though his eyebrows scrunched as if the idea of a joke was alien to him, and my smile faltered.

Orian was visually a mixture of Cair and Teighan, and the youngest of the three. On the surface, he seemed to fit the bill of a distant and unapproachable Fae bodyguard—a mirror of Tee’s scowl etched onto his brow, but with white hair and the light, bluish tinged skin of his eldest brother. He possessed his father’s harsh aura and robotic mannerisms, though there was something else there, a slightly more agreeable side I’d only known him to show around me. A vulnerability, almost.

Cair had admitted that he’d never known his brother to talk as much as he had since I’d arrived. Apparently, he’d always been eerily reserved, even as a child, only opening his mouth to carry out his father’s orders or as a formality. While it made me feel a little special knowing I’d broken the cycle, it was also kinda sad to think about.

Were these stilted conversations all the positive interaction he’d ever allowed himself to have?