Chapter 6 Tamsin
Tamsin
The manor is quiet now.
Or, quiet as Bloomhill ever gets. There’s a thump in the hallway and the sound of Marienne humming two rooms down, soft and off-key. I sit at the desk in my room, quill poised over my folio, staring at a blank page.
I don’t hesitate. Orders are orders. Assess, report, adjust. Structure saves lives. But tonight… something lingers.
The conversation. Her voice.
“I didn’t say yes because I was ready. I said yes because they had no one.”
I drop my gaze and begin to write.
Assessment: Bloomhill Manor, Day Three
Subject: Baroness Marienne Solmere
Findings: Cooperative. Willing, but untrained. Intentions remain sound, execution inconsistent.
Strengths: Empathy. Emotional awareness. Child rapport.
Concerns: Lack of structure. Unregulated schedules. Minimal discipline.
Plan: Implement structured routine—breakfast, lesson hours, chores, rest, bedtime. To begin tomorrow.
Note: Baroness agreed to schedule. Open to adjustment. Candid. Surprisingly earnest. Possibly underestimated.
I set down the quill, flexing the cramp from my fingers. The folio looks sterile now. Cold.
It doesn’t mention the smell of roses and cinnamon. The way she smiled when I admitted I liked tea. It doesn’t say that part of me believes her. That I want her to succeed. That I want—
No.
I close the folio. I am not here for want.
I blow out the candle and lie back, armor off, tension still curled tight around my spine.
Tomorrow, I begin shaping order from the chaos. That’s my job. That’s who I am.