“Ashared is infatuated with her, isn’t he?” Blann asked.
A pause.
“Perhaps,” Souhi replied.
“You think it’s an act?”
A pause, longer than the previous one.
“I don’t know.”
“But he swore he wouldn’t work against her.”
“But he didn’t promise not to use her for his own purposes.”
Warmth. Fingers sliding into her hair. Unhurried, greedy kiss.
Nihhal’s smile.
Her silent scream.
***
The next day, Lannahi asked Souhi to bring the harp from the ballroom to her chamber. Her fingers were clumsy, but she kept practicing patiently until fatigue forced her to lie in bed again. When she woke up, she returned to playing.
She had almost died. She had almost lost her fingers. If the medicine prepared by Blann didn’t work, she could have lost her voice forever. She didn’t want to waste any more time.
From now on, she intended to play whenever she wished.
She would kill anyone who would try to take her music away from her again.
Chapter 20
Lannahi regained her voice after three days but engrossed in translating her thoughts into music and searching for the right lyrics, she delayed returning to her duties for another four.
Ice cracks
Water pulls down into the darkness
Coldness turns into a dream
In the darkness burns a light
Warmth embraces a soul
Those were the words of her new song. Her first whirlsong that tore her heart apart and patched it anew every time she sang it. The second song that was born in her soul after she almost died.
A few more and I’ll have my own songbook, she thought in a flash of grim humor as she moved her numb fingers over the strings of her harp.
She finally decided to confront the world again when she received a letter from her mother.
Daughter,
We were saddened by your absence from the Royal Sabbath. We had hoped to enjoy the sight of you and your voice, which we missed so much that a month seemed like a year. Do not keep us in suspense, Lannahi. Promise me that we will meet again soon.
Asirri
Lannahi was touched when she read the letter the first time, but when she reread the message, imagining her mother’s proud face, her emotions hardened overlaying itself with a shell of determination. “Promise me that we will meet again soon” was not just a request from a worried parent. It was a request from a mentor.
