“Malik will do.” He leaned forward in his chair, sliding back into the conversation as easily as he’d stepped out of it. “Drystan mentioned that you play music, and I happen to be a great patron of the arts.”
“Youare a patron of the arts?”
He grinned. “I’m quite serious. Perhaps you’d indulge us this morning?” For all his cousin’s scheming and pandering, that much was true. He’d always been enamored of the arts, the theater and opera especially, much to his father’s dismay.
Ceridwen considered the request in silence, rubbing her fingertips across her instrument case in small motions.
“If you’d rather not—” Drystan began.
“It’s fine,” Ceridwen replied quickly. “I do love to play.”
She set about righting her instrument, and after a minute, she began to play. Drystan was unfamiliar with the tune—something deep and moving. As always, Ceridwen’s eyes fluttered closed as she played, seeming lost in a trance of her own making. Malik, too, relaxed in his seat, consumed by her music and taken somewhere far away.
Though too on edge to relax completely, Drystan appreciated the soothing atmosphere that Ceridwen’s music brought to an otherwise tense moment. If he let his guard down, he had no doubt her song would sweep him away as well.
After the second song, one that must be related to the first for their similarity, Ceridwen lowered her flute, ending the spell she’d woven over them.
Malik leaned forward in his chair, a blinding grin upon his face, a rare and true one if Drystan had to guess. “Lovely. No wonder he procured your services.”
Ceridwen looked down at her lap, the hint of a blush on her cheeks. Instantly, jealousy reared its ugly head within him, and Drystan frowned at his cousin. But Malik didn’t pay him any mind, his focus solely on the young woman across from him.
“A concerto?” he asked.
“The Blessings of the Goddess,” Ceridwen replied.
“Don’t those typically have three movements?” Malik tapped a finger on his chin. “Would you play us the third as well?”
“Apologies, I cannot.” Ceridwen shook her head. “The third movement is missing. I have never seen it. I’m not sure anyone has.”
“Unfortunate.” Malik sat back in the chair, crossing one ankle over his knee.
“You should eat something,” Drystan offered to Ceridwen, nodding toward the breakfast display.
“Food does taste so much better after such a show.” Malik plucked a pastry from the tray and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.
Seemingly reluctantly, Ceridwen selected a pastry and nibbled at it in the ensuing silence. Drystan wasn’t sure quite what to say, and Malik only asked benign questions about the recent snow, which Drystan answered, leaving Ceridwen to pick at her food.
Halfway through her selection, Ceridwen set the plate aside. “I should leave you to your meeting,” she said, her gaze locked on Drystan. The silent request in her eyes waseasy enough to pick out. She wanted a reprieve from Malik’s company. He couldn’t blame her.
“Indeed,” Drystan replied. “Thank you for the music, Ceridwen.”
“I look forward to another concert tonight,” Malik said, rising from his chair.
He and Ceridwen rose as well. She didn’t even bother to return her flute to its case, just held each at her side.
“I’ll miss this while I’m gone.” Malik sighed.
Ceridwen stood a little straighter. Drystan’s attention snapped to his cousin.Gone?Could he be so lucky?
Drystan asked the natural question, trying to hide his eagerness. “Leaving again so soon, cousin?”
“Only for a few days, starting tomorrow morning.” Malik appraised him, a slow grin forming on his lips. “But then I’d hoped to stay until midwinter. Why, we could even venture back to the capital together. Wouldn’t that be grand?”
The blood in Drystan’s veins ran cold. So that was how it was to be. Malik would likely take the early train back tomorrow, report his findings, and then return to keep a close eye on him until midwinter, at which point he’d drag him to the capital and the king himself. He might as well have pronounced a death sentence right then and there. Even Ceridwen looked at them with wide eyes, her tone paling, and she didn’t know half of Drystan’s fears or the disaster that Malik could bring upon him, should he choose.
Drystan crossed to the thick rope on the side of the room and pulled it, ringing for Jackoby to show Ceridwen back to her room. It was the only thing he could think of to keep his fury in check and his anger from spewing out. He sucked in a deep breath and turned to his cousin. “Well, won’t that be something to look forward to?”
Chapter 20