Page 60 of Rise of a Fallen Man

“But it was a cotton shirt before. This one is silk.” I plastered a smile on my face to hide the persistent nagging of jealousy that I knew I had no right to feel. “Tears and satin aren’t good together. I’m afraid this shirt is truly ruined now.” I shifted in my seat, trying and miserably failing to hold back the next question. “Did the countess give this shirt to you?”

It made sense he’d wear her gift while waiting for her visit.

“Yes,” he admitted simply.

I had no business to feel jealous, not when I was the one who’d put a wedding ring on another man’s finger. But jealousy burned stronger in my chest, painful like a spill of acid.

“I’m sorry you had to cancel your date,” I said, feeling not sorry at all.

He tilted his head, staring at me in that way that only Salas did, like he could read through all my carefully practiced neutral expressions and calmly delivered words.

“It wasn’t a date, Ari. Just a lesson.”

“A lesson on what?”

The memories of all the delightful “lessons” he’d given me fluttered through my mind like a kaleidoscope of sweet, cherished, colorful butterflies.

He shook his head, a corner of his mouth lifting in that half-grin that still haunted me at night while I tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep in the sheets that no longer smelled like him.

“A music lesson, Ari. The countess insisted on teaching me to play a lute.”

“A lute?” I snorted a laugh in a very not-princess-like manner. “Why, by gods, would she teach you that?”

He leaned back in the cushioned seat. “She had a whim to become a teacher, I guess. She said it’d give her a chance to talk about music in a new way. And let me tell you, the countess loves to talk.” He chuckled. “We’ve had two lessons so far, but I’m yet to learn how to play a single chord. Though, I have learned a lot about the history of opera in Rorrim, the administrative challenges of the theater productions she’s been overseeing, and the many ways that music connects to our bodies.”

“How does it connect to our bodies?” I wondered.

Smile danced in his eyes, drawing me in like an undercurrent.

“According to the countess, every function of the body has a melody corresponding to it. Or resonating with it.”

“Every function?”

“Yes, from speech, to digestion, to even, pardon me, the bowel movement.”

“What? Really?” Laugh burst out of me, unconstrained. “What melody would that function have, I wonder?”

Salas watched me with a wide smile.

“Something involving drums, I gather. Or maybe a tuba?”

“Depending on what one ate!” I laughed harder, slapping his thigh. “What if it’s beans?”

“There’d definitely be a bass involved.” His deep, carefree laughter joined mine, momentarily banishing every shred of tension and worry that had been hanging over me lately.

From the pocket of the cloak, I grabbed the handkerchief he’d given me and dabbed at my eyes, wiping off the tears of laughter.

“This is so ridiculously good.” I grinned. “I should give the countess a hug next time when I see her. But have you ever really aspired to play a lute? Or any musical instrument, for that matter?”

“I don’t think I have the aptitude for it, to be honest. Even learning how to dance was a struggle. But I don’t mind the lessons. Countess Ciryl has a pleasant voice and loves to talk without expecting my input. I’ve been catching up on my chores during our lessons, watering the plants on the balcony, putting away the laundry, or drawing.”

I remembered the stack of sketch paper on his desk.

“What do you draw?”

“Weapons mostly. Swords. Noil, the games master’s husband, allowed me to help in the workshop where they make and fix the weapons for gladiators. I’ve been designing a couple of swords for me to use in the arena.”

I adored the enthusiasm that lit behind his eyes. He clearly loved going back to working at the forge. For once in his adultlife, Salas did something for his own enjoyment, not just for survival or to please others.

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