Porridge
I woke feeling warm and rested.
Then I opened my eyes to see a pillow enclosed in a marmalade-colored case with a dent in it from someone’s head.
Tanyn’s head.
I was on Sigil, in Tanyn’s bed.
But he wasn’t there, and I’d slept through him returning last night.
I sat up, and even groggy, I noticed the change in the room immediately.
The fire was still burning healthily, but the weak sunlight from a gray day transformed the space, making it a different version of sit back, tuck in and stay awhile.
I turned my head to check what time it was and saw on my nightstand a digi-note resting on top of a tablet.
I nabbed the digi-note.
It said:
This is your household tablet. Anything you need, you can handle from here. If you require coffee to be hospitable, order it up before coming to breakfast. I’ll see you in the dining room.
I stared at the note, observing the absence of a good morning or hope you slept well or sorry I checked out on you yesterday, and especially last night.
I then wrinkled my nose in irritation, set the digi-note aside, commandeered the tablet and ordered a pot of coffee to be delivered.
I had my Denti-Clean in my mouth when a bot knocked on the door to deliver my coffee.
I let it in and scowled at it.
Since it was made of wires and motherboards and stuff (it was safe to say, I was not techie in the slightest), it had no response to my scowl.
It set the tray down on the table in the cozy seating area by the fireplace and exited.
I was glad Tanyn chose bots that didn’t look humanoid.
And that morning, even if I woke up feeling great (surprisingly), I was glad of nothing else.
An hour later, I arrived in the dining room wearing a cream mohair cowl-neck sweater, camel-colored wool slacks and a pair of tan high-heeled booties.
Tanyn sat at the table in jeans and another sweater (this one a turtleneck, which did yummy things for him) with a spent plate, a cup of coffee, two tablets and a digi-notepad in front of him, a stylus in his fingers.
He turned to me, then his luminous blue eyes roamed over me, from the top of my coppery head to the pointed tips of my expensive booties.
“Worth the wait,” he muttered.
I refused to accept his compliment.
“Well, good morning to you too,” I snapped, marching to the chair opposite where he sat at the head of the table, whereupon Hurley got up from lazing beside his dad and ambled to me.
He nosed my hand.
I gave him pets.
It was nice to see at least one creature in this room had manners.
“Did you order your breakfast before you came down?” Tanyn asked.
“Yes. These aren’t my first bots, Your Majesty,” I replied.
He said nothing while I reached to the coffeepot and poured myself cup number three of the morning.
“Which cup is that?” Tanyn queried.
I added creamer and a half a spoonful of sugar before I lifted the mug to my lips and answered, “Three,” before taking a sip.
“According to you, you should be topped up.”
I put the cup down. “Well, when I shared that detail about myself, I should have shared that was under normal circumstances. When I’ve been dragged to an isolated island in the middle of nowhere and my host acts like he’d rather me not be here, I tend to stay tetchy for longer.”
He set the tablet he was holding aside and put the stylus down.
“Have I been acting like I’d rather you not be here?” he asked in a quiet tone I’d never heard from him before.
And yes, it was beautiful.
I was so dead.
“Frankly, yes,” I answered as a bot arrived carrying my breakfast.
It was a huge bowl of porridge with some sunflower seeds and pine nuts sprinkled on top, and winter berries.
I would never have imagined I’d be hungry again after the massive meal the night before, but it looked delicious.
The bot set my bowl down and exited without a word (clearly it had been programmed not to interact, and I was at one with that).
I grabbed the spoon at my place setting when Tanyn said, “My apologies, Catla. I haven’t been here since Mom died and we put her to rest.”
My spoon arrested over my bowl as my gaze shot to him.
“It feels different, now that she’s not here,” he shared.
Oh Gods.
“I…had no idea,” I whispered.
He shrugged. “We buried her in the snow at a cove she and I used to like to hike to. So you know, I’ll be going there while we’re here. You can accompany me, but I’d understand it if you weren’t comfortable doing that yet.”
“She’s buried here?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t take her home?”
His brows drew together. “She already was home.”
The digi-frame and the pics in it.
How lovely Zyra and Mangold were.
Hurley, and those other two dogs.
Were they happy here?
If so, how could that be?
He grabbed his coffee mug, took a sip, put it down and queried, “Is there something you’d like to ask?” This query telling me he was learning how to read me.
And that was not good.
You do not want to know a thing about him, I reminded myself.
But that niggly part in the back of my brain whispered, But this is his mom, who’s gone. Think of how you’d feel if your mom died young. He’s here for the first time since he buried her. You should ask.
“Catla?” he prompted.
“Do you mind telling me how she died?” I inquired cautiously.
Emotion moved over his expression, the first I’d ever seen blatant on his face, and I watched it go, mesmerized. Even if it was sorrow, it was still amazing.
“Manny and Zyr were away for holiday. She knew better, but she went out, alone, when no one else was on the island, to check the lynx. She also walked instead of taking a SnowSprint, and she didn’t take her Palm, both of which was something else you should never do here.
She slipped, broke her ankle, tried to get back, but died on the way from hypothermia. ”
And now the rest of the subtext of his tale of the beautiful fae was revealed.
His mother died of cold too.
“By Lilith, I’m so sorry, Tanyn,” I said.
“The good news, in these temperatures, it probably went fast.”
That was not good news, but I could see it would comfort him.
I finally spooned into my oatmeal, asking, “The lynx?”
He lifted his chin to acknowledge the change of subject.
“We have a clutter of damaged lynx on the island. They wouldn’t make it in the wild elsewhere, and although they’d live longer lives, they’d still do it confined in pens if they weren’t here, which for them would not be the best life they can live.
Before fur was banned, they’d nearly been hunted to extinction.
They’re solitary animals, but we have males and females, and they come together to mate.
Once their litters are weaned, and the kits can fend for themselves, they’re moved back to the continent, rather than growing to adulthood and seeing their lame parents as prey.
There are no other predators on the island, but there is prey, so they can live as they would normally live, even if they’re lame. ”
His fingers went to the stylus and twirled it on the table as he spoke on.
“Mom had a thing for lynx. She saw them often where she grew up. We weren’t allowed to leave here, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t comm.
She arranged with several rescues to have them relocated here.
My father had to approve this, of course, and for once when we asked for something, he did.
Considering they were rehabilitated around beings, they were wild, but they were also a form of tamed.
And before we let them loose to wander the island, we’d keep them in a large pen, not close to the castle, so they could acclimatize.
That was where she was headed when she fell. ”
“Lynx are beautiful creatures,” I remarked.
“They are. And their kits are adorable.”
I bet they were.
We stared at each other down the length of the table.
He broke this by saying softly, “Thank you for asking about Mom.”
Oh my gods.
What was I feeling?
Did I feel…shy?
Was this what shy felt like?
I didn’t like it.
I forced out an awkward, “Well, yeah. Of course.”
He stopped whirling the stylus and stated, “I thought I’d give you a tour of the citadel after breakfast. Then we can go for a hike.”
I choked on the porridge I’d put in my mouth.
After I swallowed, it was high-pitched when I asked, “Hike?”
His brows slanted up. “In those two suitcases, did you not bring clothes to be outside?”
I looked down at myself then up at him.
“Yes, to sit on a balcony and drink hot-buttered rum.”
Okay, now did I see one side of his lips hitch up?
“You don’t have hiking boots?”
I returned to my porridge. “If I’m ever wearing a pair of hiking boots, commit me. This would be clear indication I’ve gone completely insane.”
“Right then, something you can walk in the snow in,” he kept at it.
Here we were, and I was both ecstatic and curiously upset about it.
But we were here so I had no choice but to go for it.
I set my spoon aside and stated, “I do not do the out of doors, Tanyn, unless I’m nipping briskly down a pavement to get to a sale at one of my favorite boutiques.
Or I’m lying on a lounge under the sun at a resort.
Or I’m wearing a very cute ski outfit and on a slope that, at the bottom, I just have to click off my skis and enter a chateau that spikes its hot cocoa.
I do not hike. I do not bike. I do not run.
I don’t even take walks. I do not fish, nor do I hunt.
The outside is to stare at through a window when you’re feeling contemplative or sit in and drink a cocktail al fresco with your besties.
Other than those things, I have no use for the outdoors. ”
Once I finished this speech, I waited.
He studied me.
I waited more.
He kept studying me.
I got over it, swirled my spoon in the air and said, “As you know, I would understand if you find this unattractive, and you might not want to carry on with this arrangement. Partners should share at least a few common hobbies they enjoy. And it doesn’t seem we do.”
“I like to sit on loungers under the sun.”
Crap.
“And I like to ski,” he continued.
I probably should have left that one out.
“I also like cocktails,” he went on.
Ugh.
He wasn’t done.