Page 20 of Music of the Night
17
Aria
“Lady Aria? Where have you been?” Samara gasped as she swept into my room.
I lay in bed, a contented smile on my face as I replayed the night over and over in my head, until I memorized every word, every touch that had transpired between Uriah and myself.
I waved Samara’s alarm away. “I was here. Sleeping.”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “You weren’t. I assumed you’d skip the ball and came to check.” Glancing around the room, she moved closer and lowered her voice. “Madame Blu had such a fright, she thought you’d been stolen.”
I sat up. Samara wasn’t making much sense. “Who would steal me?”
“You know.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Because of what happened last night.”
I went still. Something wasn’t right. Samara’s eyes were wide and red, her face pale as though she hadn’t slept well. I fisted the covers. “What happened?”
Samara’s eyes darted across the room. “Another attack. It was one of the livery boys this time. He was so young, found clawed to death outside the kitchen.”
A dark shadow passed over me. “Clawed?” Had I passed the kitchen on my way up? Had I imagined the shadows lurking in the castle?
“Aye. No one is to go anywhere alone. Not anymore. And, Lady Aria, I know it isn’t my place, but there is a horse missing from the stables. I know you and Madame Blu have an arrangement, but whatever you’re doing is dangerous. You could be killed if you keep running off alone.”
I blinked hard and my heart lurched. She was right. But how could I beg an escort to take me to Uriah’s tower? He was my secret, and I was loath to share it. Dropping my head into my hands, I rocked back and forth, furiously trying to think of a solution that wouldn’t endanger me. If only I had Uriah to speak to, to explain what was happening at High Tower Castle and why I could not return. Oh goddess, but his taste, his touch, his tongue, the way he inflamed my body. How could I stay away? And the music.
“You have a secret lover, don’t you?” Samara asked, a note of excitement in her voice.
“I…” I meant to deny it, but heat covered my face.
“Oh, but you do,” Samara tittered. “Let me guess, one of the visiting lords? Oh, you’re not going to tell me, are you? Well. If you’re in his room at night, I suppose I don’t need to worry.”
And just like that, I was free again. I opened my mouth to correct her assumption and shut it again. Let her think what she wanted. I still had to find a way to go to and fro safely. Before the week ended.
* * *
The daysand nights dragged by, one after the other, when my thoughts were full of Uriah. Each evening I listened to his music, my heart crying as I thought of how he created the magic, using his pain to create something beautiful. A few days after I returned, Count Zorik summoned me.
He was in the music hall, sitting in the front row along with a few lords and ladies I recognized from the performance.
“Ah, Lady Aria.” He rose when I walked in and gestured to the stage.
Trepidation rose in my belly, and I tried to calm myself. “You wanted me, sir?”
“Yes.” He clasped his hands together and glanced at his audience. “Lords and Ladies,” he boomed. “As you know, our next production will be a difficult number not only for the dancers but especially for our lead singer. Lady Aria has been my ward for the past year, learning to sing. I think now we should see whether she has improved. My opinion is partial, of course, which is why I have called you here. You will be the judge while Lady Aria sings, and I promise to abide by your honest decision.”
He spun to face me, a grin on his handsome face. “Up on the stage, Aria,” he encouraged, then waved to the conductor, a tiny old man with white hair known for his love of music. He lifted his baton, and I took a deep breath. With relief, I was grateful I could turn my back on the preening lords and ladies, dressed in their best, drinking wine and waving their fans. They had ambushed me. No one told me I’d perform today of all days, and I’d neglected to practice. I clenched and unclenched my fists. What game was Count Zorik playing at? He’d chosen the hardest production, and no doubt, the most difficult piece for me to perform. I knew the music. I’d heard it many times before and always imagined myself standing in front of the audience while the lights from the chandeliers shone down and the audience held their breaths while I sang.
Tentatively, I glided to the center of the stage and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes as the music began. This was my moment, it was now or never. The slow strands of the music flowed to my ears. Clearing my throat, I straightened my posture, just as Uriah had taught me. There hadn’t been time to warm up, to test my voice, but the song started slowly enough before building to a straining crescendo. I would do my best. When the time came for me to begin, I closed my eyes, pretending I was standing in the tower.
My voice cracked during the first verse, but I gained strength as I sang, thinking of the past, thinking of the emotional upheaval of my father’s passing. I wasn’t sure when the music took me away, but suddenly I was the lady of Swan Lake, standing in the water, singing of what was lost and the hope it would be found again. My voice soared like a captive swan set free, wings spread to fly again. It rose and ebbed like the lake, captivating all that heard.
When the last note dropped away and I opened my eyes, tears streamed down my face. The lords and ladies stared, as though they’d never heard music before. And I knew. I knew that I had gained the lead.
Rehearsal began in earnest the very next evening. The production was called Swan Lake, a tale of a princess changed into a swan by an evil sorceress. I would sing the lead, the lady of swan lake, while Lady Siobhan was given a lesser role. A lightness filled me and my heart raced each evening I took the stage during rehearsals. The music soared like a bird in flight and I sang, eyes closed, giving my spirit over to the music of the night.
I’d gained everything I’d wanted but although Uriah was the first person I wanted to tell, I did not have a moment to myself until I sank into bed, late at night to sleep the day away. Aside from learning each song, I had to be fitted for new dresses and spent a good amount of a time being poked and prodded by needles and holding my arms still until they were numb.
One evening I left rehearsal, a song still budding on my lips as I slipped into the cold, silent hall. A cloud of perfume hung in the air, something thick and rather choking. Wrinkling my nose I hurried down the hall, away from the smell of debauchery, when a shadow stepped away from the wall. I froze, mouth dry, suddenly reminded of the dark creature that might or might not be loose in the castle.
