Page 69 of The Evernight Court

I recognized the doors at the end of the hallway I was in and my heart sank. A look around and I realized I was alone—nobody was there with me, and I couldn’t hear Shadow’s wings beating nearby, either.

But behind those doors was a very dark and long corridor that led to one of the most unusual rooms in the castle—the theatre. The stage. The piano I used to play every single night with Valentine when I first came to the Woods.

My legs took me to it before I realized I’d made up my mind. I opened the doors, and I went through the dark corridor, and my step didn’t falter even though I couldn’t see anything at all. Even my hand had remembered exactly how high the handle of the door on the other side was, so that when I opened it and stepped through, I breathed easier.

The piano was right there.

I bit my tongue to keep from crying again—I was getting so sick and tired of those tears. The room was empty, and when I turned the switch on, that single limelight fell on the red seats below the stage to reveal that nobody was sitting there.

I made my way to the piano while my heart slammed against my chest faster and faster with each step like I wasbeing chased; like, if I didn’t make it to that bench within seconds, it was going to disappear forever.

Only when I sat down and pulled the fallboard open and touched the keys did I calm down a little bit. I’d missed it so much it hurt me even now. My hands were still shaking as I pressed key after key, smiling at myself, blinking the blur of the tears away.

If only Grey was here with me right now.

If only he could hear me playing him a song.

He wasn’t, but I played it anyway, to the very end, fully aware that I was giving everyone in this castle the opportunity to do whatever they pleased with me before I even realized they were there.

I still played.

I was neverone to talk to myself much, but lately that had changed. It’s not like I was isolated. I spoke to Zane every day when I went to check on the animals. I spoke to Quinn every night when we trained, and then to Toss and several other people when we went to get ale at Mina’s.

No, I wasn’t as isolated as those first few days, but I still found that thinking out loud helped keep my thoughts in order.

That’s what I was doing when I finished the song I played for Grey, then continued to touch the keys gently, slowly.

“If they didn’t find me until now, that means they don’t know I’m here,” I said—and I knew it was bullshit, but I was just trying to convince myself to stay a bit longer.

“This is not mine,” I said then, when I saw the leather piece at the edge of the shiny surface of the piano. It was a printed music folder, apparently, and it had pieces from a few of the best composers in history, starting with Beethoven. They were definitely not mine. I hadn’t seen sheet music sincehigh school. The only pieces I knew how to play were ones I’d memorized, but here they were, and some lines were written over with a red pen, too. Someone had changed pitches and rhythms and chords on most of the pieces—and I knew exactly who had done it.

“Valentine,” I said to the room, shaking my head and smiling a little as I went over the sheets again, then turned to look at the audience as if to make sure that he wasn’t sitting there in the very middle like he used to, to listen to me play.

Those had been some of the best nights of my life, though. When I played for Valentine—and Grey, too, though I didn’t know he was even listening—were some of the best nights I’d spent in this castle or anywhere else in the world for that matter.

I sighed, pulling to the side the last of the sheets to find more words scribbled at the edge of the last page—tempo is off. Piece is unfinished.

I snorted—it was a piece written by Bach, and Valentine thought the tempo was off? “Typical.” So typical Valentine to think he knew it all that I almost laughed.

Then I closed the leather folder and I stood up because my stomach was growling, and I couldn’t stand doing without food any longer. My limbs had already gotten too heavy. So, stressed about how I was going to make it to the third tower, I didn’t even consider going back to the kitchen, afraid I’d run into the brides again. No, I’d rather get a jacket and go eat in the town somewhere like I had last time. I’d never been there during the day before, but it wasalwaysdark in the Whispering Woods, so it really couldn’t be any different.

And I opened the door to leave the theatre, but…

Something about that red ink.

I stopped, eyes closed as I breathed in deeply, the markings on the sheet music right there printed on the back of my lids. In my mind, I could see Valentine sitting there at that benchand creating melodies, then deciding that he was not happy about a certain note or chord and making changes to better suit his ears.

Just…something about that red ink that didn’t let me move. Switch the light off. Go back to the third tower.

I never even knew that Valentine had taught himself how to play before he challenged Grey and I came and found him right here, begged him to call off the duel. It was the last time we spoke before I learned his secrets. Before I found out he’d tried to kill me by promising me freedom. Before he tried to kill me again in the clearing with Shadow, and Grey got banished because Storm saved my life.

Secrets.That’s the word that came to mind when I thought of Valentine now. Secrets, so many of them, and that red ink on the sheet music.

Thathandwritingon the sheet music.

I turned and went back to the piano without really thinking anything clearly. My mind was as chaotic as ever when I opened that leather folder again and I went through the corrections he’d made with the red ink. Then the end. The page at the very end.Tempo is off. Piece is unfinished.

That handwriting.

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