Page 18 of Song of the Dawn
The evening breeze ruffled my skirts, and I sat back, scrutinizing him. He was so handsome it hurt. The wind stirred his hair, his expression was shy, but the way his full lips tilted, displaying a hint of imperfection, made him even more attractive. I thought of his generosity and yanked my gaze away.
“Do you like it here so far?” Ezra asked. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but…”
“Yes, very much.” Facing him, I took another sip. “I wanted to avoid the countryside because I assumed I wouldn’t be able to play music. But Lagoda is enchanting, unlike anything I imagined. It’s a lush paradise, and when I walk outside, I’m happy. I don’t have to stare at ugly buildings or breath in tepid air. There is so much color here, and it’s far from boring. I would have been restless at my sister’s estate.”
“Did you work in the city too?”
I knew he was just keeping me talking, but the wine surged through me, and my words flowed. “Yes, I worked for an herbalist in the market. Her eyesight was going, and I didn’t mind the work, but her daughter came to live with her to take over the business. After my mother sprained her foot, the financial responsibility fell on my shoulders. We had the flat to pay for, the monthly rent, and food, and clothes…” I trailed off, assuming he didn’t want to hear about my past troubles. “My sister invited us to move in with her family, but I wanted a chance to pursue music.”
“How long have you played?”
“Since I was little. My grandfather taught me how to play before he passed away.” I smiled at the memory, my small fingers stumbling over the notes. “It was his violin I played at the audition, but it carries more sentimental value than actual use. I appreciate the new one.”
“You play well,” he praised me, his tone so low it was almost seductive. “The symphony did not give you a fair chance, and you’ve improved since you’ve been here.”
I stared at him over the rim of the glass, tingling from his compliment yet eager to change the conversation. “Thank you for giving me a chance, but what about you? Where are you from?”
“Not here.” He ran his fingers through his golden hair, ruffling it. After draining the last of his glass, he poured himself another. “Coming here has been an adjustment. The rules, the culture, it’s all very different, but I wanted to create a haven to give guests a respite from their troubles.”
“That’s noble of you.”
“No,” he chuckled. “This place is too lovely to keep to myself.”
“It is like a paradise. The paintings in the hall, do you collect them?”
His eyes brightened. “I do. Nature speaks to me, and I enjoy seeing it depicted in various ways.”
“Is that what you do in your workshop?” I pressed. “Collect art?”
“No.” His smile slipped a bit. “I don’t have the talent to paint, aside from colors on a canvas, but I carve. There’s something gratifying about taking a raw piece of wood and transforming it.”
“I’d like to see your creations,” I told him honestly, setting down my empty glass.
He leaned over to refill it. “More white? Or would you like to try a red?”
“I enjoyed this. More white, please.”
He winked at me as he poured, and I laughed in return. The wine felt good, as did the conversation, a perfect cadence of back-and-forth. Tilting his glass to me as if in a toast, he took another sip. I grinned, and as I did, my hesitations faded.
We talked a bit more as the sky darkened. Lightning bugs came out, bright spots in the sky like stars, but the glow of light from the study kept us from sitting in pure darkness. It was pleasant and warm, and things awakened within me. I knew this: I wanted to explore it further.
“It’s getting late,” I said, draining my glass.
The buzz of wine filled me, and I was afraid I’d say or do something unforgivable if I kept drinking with him.
“Yes, may I walk you back to your room?”
“No.” I half rose, feeling the room swirl ever so gently around me. “I’m fine; it’s just down a few stairs.”
“Oh, Mila,” he sighed, rising to help me stand.
I didn’t want him so near, and yet I could not resist. It took all my strength to pull back.
“We will do this again soon,” he insisted.
I couldn’t tell whether it was a request or a statement. “Yes,” I agreed. “Thank you, Ezra. You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but I simply do as I please.”
