Page 104 of The Musician and the Monster

Ceridwen’s body followed Wynni’s movements, unable to function on its own. Thoughts raced through her mind as she attempted to focus on the man in front of them, flanked by two guards similar to the ones outside. One had darkly tanned skin, the other a mess of auburn hair.

The king resembled his son, though his skin tone was a shade lighter. His dark hair sported liberal streaks of gray, and wrinkles marred what were still handsome features. But the blue of his eyes, similar in shade to Drystan’s, were colder than the icy seas near Teneboure. The smirk on his lips held cruelty instead of playful mirth like Malik’s.

How could anyone look at this man and not see him for what he was? Did they see only the title and not the darkness floating just beneath his skin?

The jewels and golden threads of his outfit would dazzle any commoner, but it was the iron brooch shaped like a dragon that caught her attention. A simple piece. And a painful reminder that caused Ceridwen’s nails to dig into the skin of her palms.

His attention flew to the door. “And my wayward son.” He crossed his arms and drummed his ringed fingers along the fine crimson velvet of his long coat. “How am I not surprised to find you here, Alistair?”

“Father.” Malik gave a stiff bow.

“Did you completely forget to check in with your report? Your charge arrived days ago.”

Ceridwen swallowed at the mention of Drystan, her throat suddenly dry. He’d made it to the city and the castle. Did the king know he waited for her here even now?

“We’ll discuss this later.” He waved a bejeweled hand at Malik, a dismissal. Malik moved to the edge of the room but did not leave.

Thank you.Even if not for her benefit, she was glad to have him near, especially as King Rhion stalked her way like a feral cat.

“Lovely concert, my dear. The best I have heard in some time.” Despite the inky feeling in her gut, Ceridwen flushed at the praise of her music.

She averted her gaze as he approached, keeping her head respectfully dipped and staring at his polished boots rather than looking the demon in the face.

“Perhaps you’d be willing to play at my castle?”

A trick question. No one could say no to the king, not if they valued their lives. She forced out her reply, careful to keep the bitter edge from her tone. “Of course, Your Majesty. When would you like me to play?”

He paced back and forth as if he were unable to stay still for more than a moment. “Two days from now. I’m hosting a midwinter party of sorts, and your music would be a delightful addition. I assume you can spare her?” This he addressed to Wynnifred. Again, it wasn’t truly a question. She couldn’t say no without risking the whole of the opera house.

“Yes, Your Majesty. It would be a great honor.” She bowed again.

“Very good,” he continued. “You may pick the songs. Three or four should be sufficient. I liked the style from today.” He waved forward one of the guards attending him. “Jasper, make sure you provide our guest with instructions for her arrival at the event.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jasper pulled a thick piece of paper from a jacket pocket and passed it to her. They’d prepared for her acceptance before arriving at the show. Only someone used to getting their way would be so arrogant.Disgusting.The touch of paper against her palm made her skin crawl.

“That’ll be all.” He waved his hand at the women this time.

Wynnifred looped her arm through Ceridwen’s again as they both bowed to the king. Wynni hustled her from his presence before she’d even fully risen.

On their way out, the king addressed his son. “Alistair, you’ll come to me tomorrow and—”

The door shut, muffling whatever else the king said. Outside the room, Ceridwen could finally breathe again. Before they reached the end of the hall, the door opened oncemore, and Malik emerged, a hard look upon his face. He caught up with them halfway to the dressing room.

“An invitation to play at the castle! That’s really quite something.” Wynni beamed. From the vacant look on Malik’s face, he didn’t share her enthusiasm.

Wynni didn’t wait for a response before dropping Ceridwen’s arm and running off to attend to one of the assistants calling her name.

“What happened?” Ceridwen whispered once she’d left.

“What you’d expect. Criticism and disappointment.” He ushered her toward the dressing room. “Come on. At least you have something happy to look forward to.”

The weight on her chest lightened.Drystan, please still be there.

Bronwyn waited for them outside the room. “Where have you all been?”

“I’ll explain,” Malik offered. “Go on.”

Without hesitation, Ceridwen opened the door and stepped inside.

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