“Thank you,” Alice replied.
“Please dig in before it gets cold. I’m going to play some music if you don’t mind,” Sebastian said.
“No, music would be great,” Alice said as she picked up the bowl of food and dished it out on her plate.
Sebastian went into the living room. The melodic tones of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” filled the house. Sebastian returned in time for Sylvia to hand him the bowl of Italian sausage.
“‘Moonlight Sonata’ is my all-time favorite song,” Sebastian said. “It helps me unwind after a busy, stressful day.”
“I love all things moon related—” Alice began as she poked a piece of sausage with her fork. “But “Clair de Lune” is my favorite moon song.”
“‘Clair de Lune” is a flirt. It’s a tease,” Sebastian said. He picked up his wineglass and took a sip. Sebastian focused his gaze on Sylvia, never wavering, and smiled. “‘Moonlight Sonata’ is a lover. It’s more romantic. It commands and builds anticipation in a way that forces the listener to surrender to its beauty. It relishes in your vulnerability, yet makes you feel safe and secure. It tugs at your heart strings and leaves you wanting more, but you know it won’t last forever. That’s what makes it wonderful. It’s the sad beauty of a lost love.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he peered into Sylvia’s sapphire blue eyes. He never took his eyes off of her. Sylvia traced the top of the wineglass with her finger, never breakingher gaze, as if she was entranced by him. An uncomfortable silence, backed by the piano notes, filled the room. Sylvia took a sip.
“‘Can’t Help Falling In Love,’” Hugo broke the silence. “That song would probably be my favorite. I danced to it at my wedding.”
“How long have you two been married?” Sylvia asked, breaking her intimate moment with Sebastian.
“No, we’re not married,” Alice answered.
“I was married before, but she passed away,” Hugo said. “It was our song.”
“I’m sorry,” Sylvia said.
“Thank you,” Hugo replied.
“Life is so precious. It’s a shame we can’t hold on to it forever,” Sylvia said.
“Very true,” Hugo said. He paused and took Alice’s hand. “I have Alice now, and she means the world to me. I’d do anything for her.”
They smiled at each other before taking a bite of the food. The mixture of spicy and savory flavors excited her senses and enraptured her imagination. This was the creation of an expert chef.
“This is exquisite,” Alice said.
“Thank you,” Sebastian said with a near mouthful.
“You should try the wine,” Sylvia said.
Hugo lifted his glass and smelled the inside. “It smells heavenly.” He took a sip and sloshed it around in his mouth before drinking. “Tastes great too. Very sweet. Did you make this?”
“No,” Sylvia said. “But it did serve as inspiration for our wine.”
Alice picked up her glass. She swirled the wine and smelled it, breathing in the earthly aroma. She held it up to her lips and took a sip. The acidic, reddish-purple liquid washed over her tongue. The sweet taste enticed her taste buds. There was something else, something hidden within the wine—a foreign taste. A taste she couldn’t conjure in her mind, but it seemed familiar. It wasn’t as bitter as the Red-Hearted Queen taste.
Hugo took another generous sip. Alice did as well. The Savinos joined in.Hugo refilled his glass.
“Enjoying the wine?” Sylvia fixated onto Hugo’s eyes.
“Very much. Thank you,” Hugo said.
Alice’s eyes narrowed; her right eyebrow arched. This wasn’t a stare she would give someone when paying attention to them speak. It wasn’t a flirtatious look. It was something else. It was a look of purpose. A look of determination. A look of . . . intensity.
Alice took another sip, holding the glass to her lips. She sloshed it around in her mouth. There was that taste. That familiar taste. She couldn’t quite place it. She had tasted it before, but rarely. It wasn’t any ingredient she ever used when making her wine. No, it was?—
Alice spit the wine back into the glass without making too much noise. She didn’t want to alert the Savinos of her action. Alice darted her eyes over to Sylvia, who was still focused on Hugo. A quick glance over to Sebastian, and he was staring back at her. They bent in closer, almost leaning into the food on their plates.
Alice set the glass back down. A distraction so she could slide her other hand below the table. She gulped. “Where is this from?”