Chapter Twenty #2
Davien’s hand lifts and hovers by my temple.
He hesitates. I don’t know if I want him to touch me or not.
The ground under my feet has changed in more ways than my simply coming to Midscape.
Even if I can return to the human world, everything will be different.
My world changed irrevocably when I fell into that fire.
He brushes a stray hair behind my ear lightly and whispers, “Why do you look so sad about that?”
“Because…” When you’re king, that means I won’t see you again. It means you won’t be right here…within arm’s reach.
“Because?” He shifts slightly closer to me.
I am his sole focus. He’s joined me in this bubble I’ve made where everything else has fallen away.
For once, I know he’s looking at me and not the magic within me.
If I hold my breath, will time stop? Can I use the magic within me to build walls around us and keep everything else out?
I have my answer in the form of Giles and Shaye crashing in on our moment, bringing with them a noisy reality.
“What’re you two doing?” Giles asks. Shaye lifts her eyebrows, glancing between us suspiciously. I’m distracted by the crown made of glass on Giles’s brow.
“I was about to get crowns for Katria and myself,” Davien says, lowering his hand and crossing to the stall we’d been headed toward. Shaye hums, narrowing her eyes slightly. Her usually threatening aura is diminished some by the ring of pink roses across her forehead.
Davien returns promptly, bringing me a similar crown. But instead of roses, the flower is one I don’t recognize.
“What’re these?” The flowers are pink and purple with dozens of thin, long petals.
“Aster,” Davien answers as he holds the crown over my head. “May I?”
“Sure.” I try to sound casual but my throat is so tight I almost choke on the simple word.
“Women wear the crowns of the last flowers to bloom before winter; men wear replicas of the glass crown to bring strength and leadership needed to endure the coming winter,” he says thoughtfully, running his fingertips lightly over the petals on the crown.
I have never been jealous of a flower before, but here I am.
“Interesting choice of flower and color.” Shaye continues her examination of me. I feel as if she’s sizing me for a dress. If she were, that’d explain the sensation of not being able to measure up.
“I’m sure it just happened to be the one Davien grabbed.” Giles takes Shaye’s elbow.
“There are many over there.” Shaye hangs on to the topic, refusing to budge as Giles attempts to guide her away. “Was it a careless choice? Or was there more thought behind it?”
Davien’s brow knits slightly and he looks sidelong at Shaye. Agitation ripples off him.
“What does the aster mean?” I ask. I know very little about flowers other than some rudimentary knowledge of edible ones. The language of flowers was one my sisters learned. There was never an extra seat at the table for me during their lessons.
“It’s—” Davien looks back to me with panic flashing in his eyes.
He hangs on the next word a little too long, searching for what to say.
For the first time I wonder what it feels like for a fae to try to tell a lie.
Does it hurt? Do rocks fall from their lips like in the old stories? Or…does he taste metal too?
“Oh! I can’t believe I found you, miss!” Raph materializes out of nowhere, wedging himself between Davien and me.
It’s only then that I realize how close we’ve been standing.
As soon as I take a step away, the world sharpens again.
Raph thrusts a lute into my hands; the motion sets his miniature glass crown crooked across his brow.
“Told ya I’d get you one. It’s even pretty decent, if I do say so myself. ”
I take the lute as though he’s passing me a babe. I cradle it, treating it with all the gentle care it deserves.
“What did you make her give away to get that?” Davien looms over Raph ominously.
“Just a song, and I let her decide all the conditions of it!” Raph holds up his hands, backing into me. I rest a hand on his shoulder protectively, looking up at Davien.
“I made sure I was careful on what I promised.”
“And did you get that lute through upstanding means?” Shaye asks.
“Or the kind that Uncle Giles is going to have to bail you out of trouble for?” Giles looks a little too excited about the prospect.
“I got it properly,” Raph says defensively.
It’s not a clear answer, and I smirk. I really hope the lute wasn’t stolen.
But I don’t hope that to the point that I’m going to give it back without playing at least a little.
The strap is already over my shoulder, and my fingers are plucking the strings as I tune.
“Are you going to perform now?” he asks.
I glance over my shoulder at the platform where the musicians are. “I’m not going to interrupt.”
“It’s like the tavern,” he says. “Anyone can go and play.”
“It seems rather full up there…” Part of me is slightly nauseated about performing before all these revelers. The other part longs to be on the stage once more, lute in hand.
“I think you should.” Davien’s deep voice cuts through my objections with ease. “I’d love to hear you play when I can gaze upon your face rather than at the back of your head.”
How am I supposed to say no to that? “How many times did you listen to me in the woods?”
He gives me the gentlest smile. “Enough to know that you’re better than half the people up there right now.” Davien rests his hand on mine over the neck of the instrument. “Go and play, for me. Fill my world with your song.”
I give a small nod. My eyes stay trapped with Davien’s, and my thoughts are tangled up with him to the point that I’m nearly tripping over my feet.
The song the band is playing is swelling.
Music is glittering in the early night and I tear myself away from that magical man to duck and dash on light feet to the stage.
At the steps that lead up to the platform, I hesitate.
Joyce and Helen are still whispering to me.
But day by day, the words seem to echo from a place farther and farther away.
They’re not of this world. They don’t know this Katria, a Katria who is bold and plays music for and with fae.
I dash up the stairs, jumping the last two steps.
The music catches me and my hands are moving before my feet touch the rumbling boards of the platform.
I fall into step with the other musicians and we move and sway, serenading the crowd.
There are no words to this song, no familiar melody, yet the sound is so sweet that I could cry.
I twirl with a laugh as my fingers speed over the strings; my heart races in an effort to catch up.
The musicians play around me. I recognize them from the Screaming Goat and we all share conspiratorial smiles. The man who seems to be leading the troupe gives me a nod of approval, raven hair falling over shimmering tattoos inked over his brow.
My turn about the stage reaches an abrupt stop as I lock eyes with Davien.
He’s right in front, Raph on his shoulders.
Both are looking at me, but I have eyes only for Davien.
He’s procured a crown, and even though it’s identical to all the other men’s, it’s different on his brow.
He’s their prince, hidden in plain sight among them.
That crown—the real one—was made for him.
The sight of it reminds me of how precious little time I have left with him.
Hear me, a new voice within says, spurred by how fleeting this world is.
Hear my song, this one is for you and only you.
Hear it now, because I may never have the courage to play it again.
I don’t know whose heart is beating in my chest. But it’s stronger than the one I’ve known my whole life, surer.
It has wants and needs all its own and seems to say with every feverish beat that it will not be denied.
I will not be denied.
Davien’s lips part slightly. His brow softens. His cheeks pull up into a relaxed smile, more sincere and sweet than I’ve ever seen from him. It lights up his whole face, brighter than the fae magic glittering overhead with the flaps of dragonfly and dove-feathered wings.
I play until the song ends—far longer than I expected. In the lull I sneak off the platform. It’s darker on the ground. I didn’t realize that night had fallen underneath the glowing bellflowers that magically illuminated the performers.
“You were amazing!” Raph claps his hands as Davien puts him down. The two have made their way to me. “Thanks for letting me hear.”
“Of course.”
“You were amazing,” Davien echoes in a whole different way, one that makes my heart skip a beat.
“But, uh, miss, I’m gonna need it back now.” Raph taps the bottom of the lute. “Y’see, I kinda borrowed it. You didn’t really say you had to keep it. And…sorry.”
His words become weaker, softer, no doubt because he sees my expression. I can’t conceal my longing and regret. I curl and uncurl my fingers around the instrument, convincing myself that I can let it go. It was fun while it lasted, just like this whole world.
“No,” Davien says. “Raph, you tell whoever it is that I will personally see they have a new instrument.”
“Huh? Really? You can do that?”
“I can.”
“It’s all right.” I hand the lute back to Raph. I don’t know the history of this lute. It might have as much sentimental value to someone as my mother’s lute has for me. A fine instrument like this is meant to be passed down within a family. “It was worth it just to play. Thank you.”
Raph scurries away with the instrument. It’s wrenching to see it go. But I have a lute back in the human world. One far finer and far more meaningful than any I could ever find here.
“I suppose it’s for the best.” Davien steps closer. One hand lands on my hip, glides around to the small of my back. The other laces fingers with mine. “If you were holding a lute, I couldn’t dance with you.”
“I’m not much of a dancer.”