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I keep my head down, adjusting the homre against my body and prepping my fingers for the onslaught of the bow against them. “You can’t change a song mid-set,” she finally says.
“Artistic inspiration,” I answer, and she huffs at that. It’s a jab, I know, since Rhovier doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body. She nearly cost our family our caste because of it, but with my popularity, she launched in as my manager and saved herself.
And for that reason, she can’t argue with me. Instead, she stalks off the stage as the curtains start to move.
I start my song on the homre, and as I crest to the bridge, my eyes go to Sienna. She grins as my fingers shift, testing out the new key, and I have to admit she’s right. She nods, shooting her eyebrows up in a ‘told you so’ motion.
I have to fight to keep from chuckling as the music soars around us, and for a moment, it feels like I am alone with her. It’s just the two of us, enjoying our favorite things.
In that moment, it hits me that I don’t know what I would do without her.
And I don’t mean at the theater.
3
SIENNA
“Itold you, didn’t I?” I wiggle my eyebrows to accentuate my point.
Ris chuckles, shaking his head, and my heart flips. We’re walking down the hallway back to his dressing room, his ilya in my hands as he carries his own homre. He’s the only chivdouyu that I’ve seen help move his instruments back to his dressing room.
“You did. And like I said, you were right.” His bright eyes flick to me, then down to the pendant around my neck. I swear pride flashes across his face as he meets my gaze once again.
“It sounded better than the original.”
I haven’t come down from the high I hit when Ris played that first song on the homre. It was bold of me to ask him to play a new twist on his song, but he had done it, watching me the whole time. And I saw in his eyes how much he loved it, too.
Sometimes I’m not sure where my limits lie with him. When we’re alone, I talk to him in a way that no other dark elf would allow. But around others, we have to keep up appearances, and Ris doesn’t even seem to notice the shift.
Or maybe he’s just that good of a performer.
I wish he could teach some of his skills to my heart if that’s the case. Because the traitorous thing feels wounded every time I have to smother my own personality to please the dark elves he surrounds himself with, and Ris barely looks at me.
Every time we’re alone, though, I forget all about it. Under Ris’s soft gaze, the rest of the world fades away, and I almost forget that I am just here to serve him. I am little more than a secret he has to keep tucked away.
But right now, with his gaze sweeping down my body and his laughter filling my ears, I feel like I am his whole world. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
The jinrayaha is rolled in ahead of us, the zagfer quickly dispersing, and I go to put the ilya up. I immediately start assessing the instruments, checking for any spots that need attention. I am a stickler for the temperature and humidity of the room, and after the show, I go over each one carefully to see if there is any sign of erosion on the metals.
“I think you’re more obsessed with those things than I am,” Ris says from behind me. I
turn to look over my shoulder and find him sitting at the jinrayaha. He runs his hand over the keys before patting the seat next to him. “Come here. I checked them all earlier and used that sonic vibration trick you taught me to get all the dirt out. They are in perfect condition.”
I stand, throwing a glance at the stringed instruments before dropping my cloth and going to his side. “I wouldn’t say I taught you that.” I wiggle my fingers at him as I slide onto the bench. “I don’t have magic.”
“Yeah, but I would have never thought about doing something as trivial as making the air vibrate to knock all the dirt from the grooves in the strings. It’s cut my work in half and produces a better sound.”
I shrug one shoulder as I slide my right hand over the keys. “You know…” My fingers dance over a few of my favorite notes. “I think that I am the reason you are the best musician up there.” My left hand joins in. “I should get a raise.”
“You?” Ris scoffs, lining his hands up on his half of the keyboard. “Not my composition or skilled playing?” He joins into my song, taking the sad, slow ballad into a weaving melody.
I look at him with a smirk and lift my hands off the keys. Suddenly, the song sounds empty, and I raise my eyebrows at him. “You tell me.”
He chuckles, nodding as he leans forward to use the keys on my side.
“You help, sure.” He looks up as his hands move expertly, finding intricate notes I could never hope to replicate. Our noses nearly brush as he slides closer to widen his reach. “But don’t get cocky.”
I slide my left arm under his right, never breaking eye contact as I join in. It’s different from the song we started with now that we both are on new keys. It changes as we match each other, and suddenly, something slow and sensual comes from the instrument.
