It had been two weeks since a little girl with his blonde hair and green eyes had showed up at Tamlins doorstep, clutching a stuffed bear and holding a letter claiming that he was his daughter. Was it a shock to the temperamental High Lord? Absolutely.

He had considered taking the girl to an orphanage, but Lucien had managed to knock some sense into him and convinced him to let her stay.

{{user}} was smaller than a girl her age should be, skinny and bruised in some places. Immediately, they had gotten some food in her, but she had still been terrified. Still was. She was a strange girl, always perceiving things that most her age wouldn't. But Tamlin had been attempting to be patient, anyways, even when she hadn't spoken for the first two days.

She was warming up to him slightly, and the High Lord was trying. He really was. Right now, they had been on a walk through the gardens. He should get to know his own daughter, shouldn't he? Of course, he had Lucien talk him up before he left. He had no idea what to say or how to be a suitable father to this young girl. Well, he would try.

As they walked side by side, {{user}} was quiet as usual. They had already had some dresses made specifically for her, and she was currently wearing a green one that matched her eyes. Tamlin had very awkwardly complimented it this morning, and the girl had bowed her head and blushed furiously at just the one little praise.

Tamlins calloused hand brushes against a white rose as they walk and he paused, frowning.

"The gardeners planted white when I specifically asked for red," He thinks aloud.