Page 95 of Song of the Heart Scale
I let goof her and stepped back. My mind was spinning.
Cat.
She had to be behind it. Who else would know the truth wrapped in that poetic armor? Who else would use music as a weapon? It was clever. Dangerous. And brilliant.
Lysandra rubbed her wrist but didn’t say anything about my grip. She knew better.
“It’s become the anthem of the people,” she said after a moment. “Especially with all the unrest in the city. The way Thorne parades through the streets like an Immortal himself. People are starting to whisper again. Starting to question. And that song certainly doesn’t help his case.”
I moved back to the lounge and sat heavily. My fingers ran through my hair, tugging gently as my thoughts spun.
“He’ll know,” I murmured. “Thorne will hear that song and know it’s about him. He’ll try to crush whoever wrote it. He won’t care if it’s true.”
Lysandra sat beside me, her presence soft but unwelcome. She still watched me like I was something she could possess. But those days were long gone, if they ever existed at all.
“You should be proud,” she said quietly.
“Proud?”
She nodded. “You’ve become a symbol. Even when you’re in the shadows, people sing about you.”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that assessment.
She shifted slightly closer, letting her leg brush against mine. “I’ve secured a meeting for you,” she said, lowering her voice.
That got my attention.
“Lord Mercer. He’ll be here tomorrow night.”
I turned to her, brow raised. “How?”
She smirked. “He’s a creature of habit. Comes here every Thursday and requests the same girl, same room, same drink. He likes predictability. Which makes him easy to corner.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! I know this place like the back of my hand.”
I nodded. “Good. I’ll be here.”
She smiled, though there was a touch of melancholy behind her eyes. “I still remember the first time you came here. You barely spoke. Just watched. Colder than the northern wind.”
“And yet, you still talked to me.”
“I like puzzles,” she said. “And you were the biggest one I’d ever seen.”
“Were?”
“Still are. Just with sharper edges.”
I looked at her, really looked, for the first time in a while. Sadness lingered in her eyes, along with regret. Maybe even longing. But I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I never could.
“Thank you for the intel, Lysandra. That will be all.”
She stiffened slightly but nodded before standing and brushing down her skirts. “One day, you’ll wish you hadn’t shut me out,” she said, sounding more weary than bitter, almost as if she’d forgotten how she betrayed me to Thorne.
“Maybe. But today isn’t that day.”
She paused at the door, turned back to me, and offered a small, rueful smile. “Goodnight, Your Highness.”
