But Venkat had known that was untrue. Not just during Red’s especially rotten tantrums when he wasn’t getting his way, but every day. Every day when Venkat needed permission to pick up his beloved violin just to practice for a few hours, he was reminded that this thing around which he’d built his entire life wasn’t his own.
It felt good to have that feeling validated, yesterday, especially by fae, who knew and understood the situation completely. There was nothing they could do about it, though they seemed to think they had to try—Venkat didn’t mind that, though. He’d never had anyone who wanted to fight for him before. It was enough just to know that someone like that existed, let alone a handful of them.
Face washed, teeth brushed, Venkat sighed at his red-eyed reflection. Last night,
