“Sure.” I try and sound casual but my throat is so thick 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 crown’s flora. 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 was, 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 the topic, refusing to budge as Giles attempts to guide her away. “Was it a careless choice? Or is there more thought behind it?”
Davien’s brow knits slightly and he looks at Shaye from the sides of his eyes. Agitation ripples off of him.
“What does 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 during their lessons for me.
“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 and 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 once more. The noise, the people, the celebrations that carried on, oblivious to Davien and I. Raph thrusts a lute into my hands, the motion sets his miniature glass crown crooked across his brow. “Toldja 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 its neck, treating it with all the gentle care it deserves. It’s not as nice as Mother’s, not by half. But it’s fine enough make.
“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 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, my fingers plucking the strings as I tune. “Are you going to perform now?”
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 nauseous 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 again when I can gaze upon your face, rather than just 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 as 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. The words of Joyce and Helen are still whispering to me. But, day by day, they 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 as 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 the front, Raph propped on his shoulders. Both are looking at me, but I only have eyes for Davien the man. 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 assure me 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.
