Page 27 of Path of the Dark
She made her way across the crowded floor to the lyrist. Recognizing her, the lad grinned and stopped playing. Then, once Ryana had halted beside him, he struck up the tune once more, fingers dancing across the strings.
Ryana began to sing, and as she did, the stresses and worries of the past few days sloughed away from her. She was always someone else when she sang. She was free.
“Morwen tried to remember him
The way he used to smile
The man whose gaze was carved upon her heart
She was born the day of meeting him
Born to breathe his name
She never dreamed they’d one day be torn apart
She cried a sea of tears
Drowned in her fears
Died for the memory of love
For the burning desire
For his kiss of fire
She prayed to the cruel gods above.
Morwen tried to forget him
The way he used to talk
The man whose voice was etched upon her soul
She was lost the day of meeting him
Lost inside his gaze
But the time they spent did finally take its toll.
She cried a sea of tears
Drowned in her fears
Died for the memory of love
For the burning desire
For his kiss of fire
She prayed to the cruel gods above.”
The verses went on and on. The Lay of Morwen was long, going into detail about Morwen, the lonely widow had taken in an injured soldier, who stole her heart and then left her. The song struck a chord with Ryana. She felt Morwen’s passion, her need to throw off the confines of her sad widow’s life and lose herself with her lover. She knew what it was like to feel stifled by your life. At twenty-two, Ryana had once longed for life-altering passion. However, it had come at a price.
These days she had no such illusions about life, or love. She preferred romance to remain in songs. These days, she realized that love wasn’t the answer to the restlessness that simmered within her even now. The problem lay deep inside her; a flaw that had been with her since childhood.
It had been her constant companion ever since she’d learned she was different to other children.
Halfway through the lay, Ryana noted a familiar face in the crowd.
A tall, dark-haired man dressed in black was leaning against the far wall of the common room. Partially cast in shadow, Elias had deliberately taken up a position where he could observe the room without being easily noticed. His gaze gleamed as he watched her.
Ryana’s heart lurched, and she nearly faltered.
Concentrate.
Wrenching her attention from him, she focused on the wood paneling behind the prince, at where the light of a cresset danced. She had to focus on the song, focus on getting to the end.
