In fact—
Stephan had never heard me play.
Realizing that brought an increase of air to my lungs, and it was enough to settle the violin against my shoulder and draw the first down-bow. The mournful opening echoed in the room, easing my tension. Soon enough, I’d forgotten I had an audience at all and played as I did in my bedroom, with no goal but to hear the music and feel it vibrate my heart.
After the last piercing note faded, I lowered my instrument to choose a different song and was startled to hear gentle thumps, which took me a moment to identify as quiet applause from fur-lined hands.
My face heated. I coughed.
“Will you play another?” he asked.
I wished I could tell from his voice if it was a personal request or just a societal expectation.
Either way, I lifted my bow for the next piece. And the next.
“It can’t be exciting for you.” I lowered the instrument to my lap between pieces to give my arms a needed rest for blood flow. “You listen to me talk, listen to me read, listen to me play. I feel selfish.”
I was known for dominating the conversation at home, and I’d been called out at many social functions for an impatient, tapping toe when I was meant to be listening to imparted wisdom from others.
“Maybe you are selfish.”
I winced at his unrelenting honesty, but I’d walked myself into it.
Then he added, “Maybe I am also selfish, since I ask you to speak, to read, and to play for my own enjoyment.”
So it had been a request. I ducked my head, massaging the tired fingers of my left hand to distract from the tingling in my chest.
“I hope you won’t be embarrassed.” I wasn’t sure what made me say it except that honesty deserved honesty. “If you don’t want to be seen, it’s your right, but I hope you won’t be embarrassed. No matter how you look, you offer good and honest conversation, and that’s more than most people do.”
We were dangerously close to something I hadn’t allowed myself to ponder, but despite my resistance, my instructor’s voice prodded me:Is it a beast who speaks like a human or a human who looks like a beast?
“There is a fairy in your forest,” I said, rushing into a new topic.
I felt his stiffness all the way through the chair.
“She offered me a wish.”
“Don’t take it!” he said, suddenly fierce.
“Did you?”
More stubborn than Wolf,she’d called me. I couldn’t help thinking of his pointed, black ears.
The silence grew. Perhaps he couldn’t tell me, couldn’t speak of it. I was certain I could reason it out, and the prospect of such a puzzle should have thrilled me. It would have thrilled the old Beauty.
But this one was in hiding, and down the path ahead of me, I saw only exposing light. The beast had secrets, but so did I. Best to leave secrets in the dark.
“Beauty—” He stopped abruptly, with such effort my chair tipped a few degrees forward, jolting my heart.
I could guess what he’d been about to say.
When I’d told him not to propose again, he’d said he wouldtrynot to. My irritation had heard only Stephan in the answer, a man unwilling to surrender what he wanted. I hadn’t heard enchantment.
Now I did.
I hugged my violin. I’d foolishly opened a door, and the wind had blown in grains of truth I couldn’t sweep back out.
Don’t ask,I ordered myself. I didn’t want him to know what I’d put together if I was right—and I felt horribly sure that I was.
