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I’m stuck strangely perched over his stuffed leather armchair, half standing and half sitting.
Half of me is rapidly thinking up an excuse to leave without being rude, and the other half is chantingyou’re losing her again you’re losing her again you’re losing her—
“Is that your shopgirl?”
“It is.”
Damn him, Miothro crosses his arms over his chest, examining me like I’m some sort of scientific specimen. His lips don’t so much as twitch in amusement, but I can tell he rather likes having me off-balance.
“I’d like to speak with her about the care of the instruments while you and my boss here go over the numbers. I’m not much of a math guy, you know?”
Miothro’s voice is cool. “I could guess as much, yes.”
He doesn’t move from the door, even as I walk up to it. Instead, he narrows his calculating eyes at both myself and Ghildumal.
“My human associates are very dear to me. I won’t see them insulted or hurt, or there will be consequences beyond the financials. Do we have an understanding?”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I say. My voice almost breaks.
If I lose her again…
But as slowly as Miothro opens the door, I see she hasn’t gone far. She runs to the shop across the street, pausing for a minute at the door to look up at the sky in such a raw, painful way it nearly breaks my heart.
Then she unlocks the door and steps inside.
I might be running, but it feels as though I’m lunging through quicksand. Everything is too slow until I fling the door of her shop open and step inside.
It’s probably a nice shop. I can see that the instruments are polished to a fine gleam, that it’s well-swept. She must have just closed it, because only one of the candles it lit, one at the counter. With the fading sunlight, I have to strain to see her face clearly, and it’s still the only thing in this room I truly see.
Her eyes are furious, and something else. Something unfamiliar. She whirls on me viciously as the door shuts behind me. A cheerful bell jangles in the tense silence.
I’ve imagined this moment millions of times, and now I have no idea what to say.
“You’re safe?”
She nods. The fury in her eyes dim a bit, but my own chest burns as if I’m leeching the anger from her. She’s fine. I’ve been worried sick about her, and she’s been right here this entire time.
Perfectly fine. Running her own music shop.
Running her own music shop with a very protective owner. He must have bought out her contract with the theatre, which wasn’t cheap.
Why?
“You’ve been safe this entire time?”
There’s an unfamiliar edge to my voice, but Sienna doesn’t shrink away like she used to do before my sister’s wrathful rants. She raises her chin at me, proud and haughty, and I’m not sure if I want to kiss her or shake her.
“My shop is closed.”
“Your shop is…Do you have any idea how many nights I spent looking for you? I thought you were kidnapped. Stolen. Dead. I…” My hands fist at my sides. I want to slam them down into something. I want to break apart this cheerful little ilya display into a thousand pieces. I gently knock my knuckles against the table and smother a nearly hysterical gasp of laughter. “I was a fool, apparently. You’ve been fine all this time, right here.”
So close. She’s been so close this entire time.
If she didn’t visit me, it’s because she didn’t want to. All those nights I stared out at the audience, wondering what was keeping us apart…
It was just her.
“I needed space.”
