Chapter 2: You Think I am Weak

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Trigger Warnings: depictions of slavery; topics alluded to but aren't explicitly stated or described


Even the iron still fears the rot. Hiding from something I cannot stop.

~)(~

I thought of Tamlin as a weak soul. A weak soul that had the potential to be great, if only he wasn't tethered by his own blood. It was something he dwelled on so often that I could see it clearly in his eyes at every moment. This zoned out state he would fall into every time he thought of his family.

He rarely spoke to me, though. If he could help it. While traveling, we sat atop separate horses, going down the singular road that led to the Autumn Court. I was very adamant about wanting to ride on my own. It gave me a sense of freedom. I could do what I pleased when sitting on such a beast.

And if I needed to run, I could.

My riding clothes comprised leather pants, and a loose grey shirt tucked into the belt. My uncles crest designed the buckle. I hated that he had to follow me wherever I went. It was this constant reminder that I was still shackled, even if the chains were invisible. 

The surrounding wilderness changed around us the closer we were to the border. The colors changed from bright greens to reds and browns. We entered the Autumn Court much quicker than I thought, and I wondered how small this island really was.

"We'll rest here for the night," Tamlin said to the others.

I pulled the reins on my horse and turned to face him. "We can't be much farther now. Why must we stop?"

"The horses need rest," he responded, before dismounting. "As do I."

I rolled my eyes as I looked away. A guard helped me off the beast and plopped me down on the ground. I knew how to dismount myself, but I would not stop someone from helping me in any way. My legs were aching, and my back suddenly pinched as my weight fell back on it.

The mortal servants prepared the camp for us in a small meadow within sight of the road. I watched them work and felt a stone fall in my throat. I swallowed hard. They looked more exhausted than us. I wondered how many generations lived like this, how many of them died in a single Fae life. A torturing wheel for each of them, with no hope of escape.

They started a fire in the center of the space. The light danced off tent flaps and armor. I sat in a comfortable folding chair, my feet close enough to feel the warmth. Tamlin sat on a stool next to me, sharpening a dagger.

"Have you spoken much to my brother?" He asked, obviously trying to spark conversation.

I looked up from my embroidery and forced a content smile. "Yes, he is quite nice."

Tamlin raised a brow and leaned an arm on his knee. "We're to be siblings. Now, let's be honest with each other. My brothers... they are anything but nice."

My face paled. My throat closed up. I sucked in a breath and thought for a moment that I couldn't let it out again. I blinked and shook my head.

"Why is your father sending you to the Autumn Court?" I asked, changing the subject.

Tamlin seemed excited to share with me this information. "The enemy has set up base in the Winter Court. They don't know we found them, and so we are planning an attack."

"What about civilians?" I asked, sucking in a breath.

He huffed a laugh. "None are around those ruins. But of course, you wouldn't know that."

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