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Hewas of that darkness, and yet she had no fear of him at all.
Noa looked at the piano again; at its gleaming ebony and ivory keys. They were practicallyinvitingher to touch them.
As if pulled by a magnetic force, she moved across to the piano and sat down. Her fingers grazed the keys. Excitement rippled through her.
It was like coming home after a very long trip.
She tickled the first few bars of a Mozart sonata, because her mood was light; almost joyous, but a little fragile.
The piano had a rich, mellow sound that turned sweet with the effervescence of the music.
Although she was rusty, the music pulled her in, and muscle memory did the rest. She wanted to test the bass strings and the depth of the sound, so she switched from Mozart to Beethoven—the first movement of theSonata Pathétique.
Light and dark; heavy and then urgent; peppered with staccato.
This piano wasperfectfor playing Beethoven.
The music took her away, as it always did.
She couldn’t stop, not even when Ash sat down on the floor beside her and rested his head against her knee, closing his eyes.
Even after all these years; after everything she’d seen and done, she still knew this piece like the back of her hand. Her first major performance—it had been this one.
She was almost tempted to lean into the second movement, but for now, the first was enough.
It was enough.
And she didn’t even need to try the other pianos.
Thisone was perfect. It produced tones she could only have dreamed of.
And it was the best birthday present she’d ever had.
“I’ll take it,” she said quietly, running her fingers over Ash’s tied-back hair. This sweet, gentle man…
He made everything better, even when the Universe was fraught with danger.
Right now, his aura was thrumming with pure contentment.
He reminded her of a cat—albeit a big and dangerous one—basking in the warmth of the sun.
Only, his warmth was her music.
EXCERPT: EMBERS IN THE SNOW
Something must be afoot,because I’ve been summoned.
The dining room of Ruen Castle is a study in contrasts.
The tall, arched windows are filled with colorful stained glass mosaics depicting the ancestors, perpetually frozen in the midst of heroic deeds. Once the deepest shade of peacock blue, the heavy drapes are now faded like the winter sky outside.
Dust gathers in the corners. Cobwebs adorn the ceilings.
Lunch is served in the most elegant ware; the plates and bowls adorned with gilded rims, the cutlery wrought of sterling silver, the glasses made from the finest etched crystal.
It’s too bad the food doesn’t quite match the grandeur of the setting.
We’re served hard rolls of bread and a stew of ham and winter vegetables. The sauce is flavored with dried herbs and stretched with flour; more soup than meaty stew. Beside it is a concoction made from root vegetables and onions fried in lard and spoiled red wine, seasoned with copious amounts of pepper.
