Hyacinth (Tamlin's Healing Arc)

Chapter Sixteen

"So, how does your magic work exactly? Like, are you constantly listening to all the flowers talking?" Tamlin asked as he heaved the stone bench into an upright position. He had been working on it all morning, first clearing the rocks around it and now lifting the bench itself.

They had decided to focus on the front courtyard rather than the inside of the Manor. Or Mansion, as Tamlin intended to add a dozen more rooms for various reasons.

"No," Cin retorted, playfully throwing a handful of dead leaves at him. "Well, kind of. I can't hear the flowers I grow. I can't imbue them with life. So right now, your Manor is like a...quiet space for me."

"And when you leave, on your way back to the village, you'll hear them again?" Stepping away from the bench, Tamlin swatted the leaves from his clothes. He awaited her nod before asking, "Tell me something interesting you've heard recently."

"I am not your spy," Cin rolled her eyes, catching a glimpse of brown in his yellow hair. A leaf had gotten stuck in his bun.

Cin closed the distance between them without thinking and reached up to pluck the leaf from his hair. Seeing the intent in her eyes, Tamlin lowered his head to allow her to reach it.

It wasn't until she had the leaf in her hand that her gaze shifted to his. Tamlin was close enough for her to catch a whiff of his cedarwood and vanilla scent. They hadn't discussed what had happened at the Saorsa Festival. Cin had waited for him to broach the subject of the lightning that crackled between them, the electric connection they had felt when their eyes met—any of it.

But Tamlin hadn't.

Once the Nightshade Berries had taken the stage, the merry men had joined them, and they celebrated as a group. Nearly two weeks had passed, and Cin was still waiting for him to bring up what had transpired.

She swallowed hard and abruptly shifted backward. "Um...they're not always clear. Sometimes the messages from the flowers can be really cryptic. Yesterday, I was told that a being with incandescent eyes traversed the stars to rip the Night Sky wide open."

"That...are you sure you're not a Seer?" His eyes held enough mischief to let her know he was teasing. Cin was tempted to throw another handful of leaves at him.

"I think I would know if I were a Seer," Cin stated firmly, raking the leaves between them aggressively.

Tamlin observed the frustration on her face and in her movements, raising his hands in surrender. "Just asking. The Cauldron knows I need a Seer."

"And what makes you think I'd help you if I were a Seer?" She paused, frowning at him as she leaned on the rake and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"I'd pay you handsomely for your service." Tamlin took a step back, folding his arms across his chest.

A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead, and though he gave her an incredulous look, she knew he had stepped back to catch his breath. The stone bench had proven heavier than they had anticipated, but he was too proud to admit it aloud.

"Oh yeah? With what? I'm sure your coffers are empty." Cin motioned for him to lift the bench again, and when he did, she pushed it with all her strength. With her assistance, Tamlin was able to maneuver the bench into its resting place.

Cin beamed at him, a smug satisfaction lingering in the air, knowing that he needed her help to lift the stone bench.

Tamlin shook his head, a grin playing on his face. "I...could train you. Learning to fight is always a valuable skill."

"Why would I need to know how to fight?" Cin narrowed her eyes, using a cloth from her apron to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"I don't know. Isn't that something women want?" He plopped down onto the bench, seeking shade beneath what had once been a cherry blossom tree. Under the scorching sun, Cin realized that the bench was in the perfect spot in the garden—or at least it had been when the garden flourished.