Page 31 of Music of the Night
“What is it?” Samara repeated. “Lord help us, do you see one of the spirits? The ghost?”
Facing her, I dropped my hands, cheeks flushing. “It wasn’t him.” I wasn’t sure, but I wanted those words to be true so badly.Please. Please let them be true.“He did not kill them.”
Samara wrinkled her nose. “Who are you talking about?”
“The man in the tower.”
“No.” She stood, hand stretched out. “Aria, not this again. The ghost or whatever creature you saw in the tower isn’t real. He may have appeared to you as a man, but it was only to trick you.”
I shook my head firmly. Part of me wished I’d never shared my secret with her. She was too stuck in her ways, in the old beliefs, to think differently, but I had to believe in something. Could it be possible the power of our love would set us free? I had to go to him again. I went for the door before recalling I was guarded.
“Samara, I need you to do something for me.” I turned to her.
“Aria, no.” She pressed her lips together. “You have the performance to think about.”
“I know.” I glanced at my new dress. “And I will sing. I will let the guards escort me to and fro, and I will not leave the dressing room until you come for me. But this is a matter of life and death. Do you know of the trapdoor that leads to the underground tunnels?”
“The flooded ones?” Her hands shook. “Why?”
“I need you to unlock it.”
Samara cocked her head, nostrils flaring. “Why?”
“Please, just do it, if it’s not already unlocked.”
Samara backed away from me, hands closed into fists. “I can’t. I won’t. This is for your own good, Aria.”
My thoughts went to Uriah. How would I reach him? If I thought of him while singing, would he come? Or, after the performance, I needed a distraction so I could return to him, find out once and for all if he was involved. This time I’d ask direct questions. My fear of who he was, of what he might be had driven him away. Originally, I’d gone to give him a chance to explain, and yet I’d failed to tell him why, afraid that in his anger he would destroy me. But his passionate kiss had clarified, for how could he be angry and kiss me like that?
“What I will do is help you escape,” Samara went on. “I’ll find horses, distract the guards, and find a way for us to ride away. All you have to do is wait for my signal and we’ll figure out the rest.”
I blinked, recognizing that I had an ally and yet, not in the way I wanted or expected. “Okay,” I breathed, knowing I could not push her further. “I’ll prepare.”
Samara helped me dress. Before Uriah—when all I’d wanted was to sing—I would have squealed with joy and danced around the room in it, but now my heart was hollow, and I wasn’t sure if anything would make me happy again.
My gown was the color of snow, a fine silk that wrapped around my body as though it were the mist itself that haunted High Tower. The bodice laced up over my chest but left my shoulders bare. A trail of white roses covered the edges, reminding me of when I’d first spied Uriah, singing the song that made the roses grow. Sleeves started just below the shoulder and descending into a cascade of ruffles, limiting the movement of my arms but leaving me with a sense of refinement and royalty.
The waist was a bit tight, but it was still much better than wearing a corset and the skirts swept to the floor.
“There.” Samara pulled me in front of the mirror after she finished styling my hair. “You look stunning.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach and took a deep breath. I did, along with the ruby at my throat, the one token I hadn’t thrown away. I fidgeted with it.
“Come,” Samara beckoned. “The hour is late.”
Music hummed through the halls as we hurried to the theater. Vibrations of strings and chimes twisted through the air, chasing away the shadows. Yet the tones were deep, mournful. The chandeliers tinkled, jewels purred, catching the tune of the vibrations. My feet stirred, an aching rose in my throat, to sing and dance as I once had. Samara left me alone in my dressing room where I sat at the vanity, my back straight, warming up my voice, just as Uriah had taught me. Someone had left a single red rose in a vase. My thoughts flew to Uriah as I lifted it to my nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance.
Tonight I’d forget about the twisted mystery of High Tower and give myself over to song. Completely. The performance was full of rich and strenuous numbers, but the final one, the duet between two lovers, when the man dies, would be my most exalted piece. Even Lady Siobhan couldn’t be angry with me, for she also sang in quite a few numbers. It was a four-hour performance with an intermission, and the theater would be packed.
Holding the rose to my nose, I glanced at the mirror, and a shadow flickered. A burst of crimson and gold filled my vision yet just as suddenly, it was gone. Rising, I turned around, knocking over the vase which shattered on the floor, leaving the rose in a pool of water and bone white china.
The door to my dressing chamber swung wide open. I pressed myself against the wall, gasping for breath as a shadow filled the doorway. All I saw was black as Count Zorik strode in.
“Aria,” he said, eyes flashing to the broken vase. He cocked his head. “Are you well?”
Are you well… Those words often uttered by Uriah seemed strange coming out of Zorik’s mouth. I caught my breath, ashamed of being frightened. I hadn’t had a conversation with him since that night and yet his pale face was flushed, his eyes bright. The scent of brandy hovered around him.
“Quite,” I said, wishing I were not alone with him, wishing that Samara or someone else had stayed with me.
