Up ahead, the street bloomed into the entertainment district, one of the city’s main quadrants. The entryway was marked by a gravity-defying canopy constructed of stone and woven iron cables that spiraled over a hexagonal plaza of white marble known as the Pavilion. The theaters, opera, and dance houses hugged the plaza, each building glorious in its own right. Elaborate stone friezes and carvings of creatures like winged sea serpents and two-headed wolves bedecked their cornices and towering colonnades. But it was the crown jewel of the Pavilion that they approached—the concert hall.
When they arrived, the Elites dismounted first. Eadric helped Asterin slide gracefully from the saddle while Silas and Jack lent Elyssa a hand. Laurel and Casper carried the train of Asterin’s dress. With Gino’s help, Nicole began passing the horses’ reins to a dapper little quartet of stable hands, identical in uniform from the number of buttons fastened on their jackets right down to the angle of their woolen caps. Hayley and Alicia took up position by the doors to the concert hall, where they would remain for the duration of the performance.
“It’s been so long since I last came here.” Her mother sighed as they ascended the steps to the hall. “So much is just as I remember, and yet so much has changed.”
When they reached the landing, Elyssa paused to hold Asterin at arm’s length. Eadric and the Elites drifted back respectfully. Emerald eyes roved Asterin’s face for a long minute before Elyssa pulled her into a tight embrace right there on the steps, her expression so full of love and warmth that it made Asterin’s heart clench.
“I can’t believe it either, you know,” her mother whispered into her hair. “I must have dreamt these moments a million times. Only my determination to see those dreams come to light kept me sane through ten years of isolation. Sometimes I worry that I’m dreaming still.” She pressed a gentle kiss to Asterin’s brow. “I’m never going to lose you again. Never.”
Asterin swallowed the lump in her throat. “Please don’t worry. But come, we should go inside. Levain will be waiting.”
“Is he still director?”
Asterin flashed a grin before donning her most queenly smile. “Definitely.”
The ushers welcomed them into the grand lobby with a flurry of bows. Torches circled the space at varying intervals, casting a flickering ombré of shadow across the opalescent tiles. A stairway led upstairs to the balconies. Usually, the delicious cacophony of the orchestra warming up drifted through the ground-level doors, but tonight Asterin heard only the muffled chatter of the audience.
As promised, the music director of the concert hall waited for them at the foot of the stairs, his hands clasped in front of him. Even with his wild thicket of silver hair, he stood no taller than Asterin’s shoulder, yet his presence could not have been more grandiose.
“Your Royal Majesty and Your Royal Grace. Captain Covington and Elites,” Director Levain said with a deep bow. “An honor, as always, to have you with us.” He eyed Asterin’s dress, a merry twinkle in his eyes. “I take it Your Majesty and company shall be using the royal box this evening?”
Asterin hummed her affirmation. In the past few months, she had attended an increasing number of concerts. More often than not, she wore something plain and snuck into the performances along with the crowds—trying to blend in, just another audience member among thousands, rather than draw attention away from the actual performers by flaunting her status.
“Allow me to escort you upstairs,” Levain said. Nicole and Gino jogged into the foyer just as the torches around them began flickering to signify the start of the concert. They took up position behind Elyssa. “The performance is set to begin in a minute or so, although I can of course notify the stage managers to hold—”
“We don’t mind running,” Asterin told him.
Levain grinned. “Then run we shall.”
They ascended to the lower balcony, the accented click-clack of Asterin’s stilettos echoing and Casper and Laurel still dogging after her with the train of her dress in hand. Eadric and Elyssa followed close behind, with Nicole and Gino at the rear, and soon they were hurrying through a set of heavy teakwood doors. Ushers held back rich plum drapes and shepherded them to the royal box. Levain tipped his chin in farewell just as the audience burst into applause and the performer emerged onstage.
In the darkness, almost no one had noticed the appearance of the Queen of Axaria.
Asterin blindly felt for her seat and watched in awe as a young girl strode toward the piano. The girl bowed center stage, her sleek red dress shimmering like fiery embers in the golden glow of the mammoth chandelier overhead. As one, Asterin and the pianist settled into their respective seats.
The pianist’s hands rose to the keyboard.
Asterin leaned over the balcony rails in anticipation.
“Don’t fall,” whispered Eadric.
The pianist struck the first chord, a spark in the silence, like a match striking flame. Asterin inhaled sharply as the girl’s fingers darted to the bottom end of the keyboard, notes chasing higher and higher in a tumultuous blur. On and on the passages went, until a soaring melody emerged from the maelstrom, its beauty stealing the air from her lungs.
I can’t be Queen of Axaria, she’d told Quinlan an eternity ago.
He had reached forward to cup her jaw, tilting her face up to his. You can be whatever the hell you want, he had whispered, eyes blazing with indigo wildfire, his smoke-and-mountain air scent washing over her. And I promise that if you so desire, I will stay by your side through all of it.
The climax of the piece reverberated through the hall, burning with want, tearing itself apart, yearning for something unattainable.
Then the music began winding down—no, unraveling. Just barely holding together at the seams . . . until out of the dust emerged the melody once more.
One harmony at a time, the tatters began to mend. Some hole deep inside Asterin had yawned open, naked and aching, but the music soothed it. Healed it. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end as the melody warbled a final cry, utterly spent and dwindling to ash . . .
And then nothing.
Asterin leapt to her feet, clapping furiously, her throat tight and her eyes wet as the pianist bowed and walked offstage. Thunderous applause followed her back on moments later. The girl flashed a dazzling smile to her audience and raised her eyes, one hand over her heart as she met Asterin’s gaze. The look seemed to set off a chain reaction, and Asterin felt herself stiffen ever so slightly as every neck in the hall swiveled to scrutinize the royal box.
She returned the pianist’s gesture with her brightest smile, and though she could do without the stares, they were only to be expected—besides, as long as she could hold all her broken pieces together beneath the public’s notice, those stares of admiration could only ever work in her favor.