Silas watched me for a moment, his fingers tracing circles along my goose bump-riddled flesh, expecting the horrors I’d witnessed—to bring to life the missing piece of a woman he doesn’t remember or not clear enough.
“Mm.” Silas closed his eyes, leaning back onto the stone, the worn red bricks crumbling to the failings of a broken man.
One who’d give his life to end a curse that has kept him trapped for so long.
Sunlight peeked into the curtain of the inlet window, its warm rays beading through the shared space between us. The sunrise moved over the horizon, the beams reminding me of what was and what had been. A new day, a fresh beginning—life’s repetitivecycle.
Sitting in the room with Silas was nothing but the past. It clung to the old castle like vines wanting to exist in something rather than nothing. The sunrise was a future that continually arrived to wipe the slate clean.
“I should get going.” I stood to my feet.
In good faith, I knew the darkness harboring underneath my skin, boiling beneath, the desire to push past the box constructed for me for years. Silas described a selfless creature when he could have been further from the truth. I was a selfish girl wanting selfish things I could not possess, not in the lifetime I wanted.
Not when there were other people to think about.
How could I be sure? Who was the true monster?
The more I thought, the more I became confused in the web of secrets woven around me.
I strode to the exit, to the whispering voices greeting me down the hall, an invitation I was to heed. I did so without turning back to the solemn man who had been watching me.
Eighteen
Silas waited for me once I returned to the castle. The sun slowly set, casting a glow upon the dark-gray stones. The rays weaved themselves through the window, a rainbow of color dancing onto the marble floor, illuminating Silas’s mischievous smirk.
I shuttered the door closed, lugging the bag higher onto my shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
Silas stepped toward me, walking alongside and guiding us up the staircase. “I thought I’d greet you at the door, Little Dove.”
I raised a brow.
Silas’s dark sleeves were cuffed at the elbow. Streaks of blue and green ran up his arm, smearing it as he wrung them. The same streaks were foundpainted onto his cheek, and silver hair was tied back, with strands coming loose over his face. A messy angel, glorious to set human eyes on and he appeared so normal—human, even.
At the top of the staircase, Silas cupped my hands, jerking me close. “I want you to see something.”
“Sure.” I nodded.
Silas guided us to the west wing. The hallways were the same from the last time, yet they appeared to be lighter, not shifting itself as a maze would. The voices were hushed, falling silent as Silas and I went deeper into the wing. The shadows did not even dare to come near him, repulsed by his presence. Or perhaps not hungry for the suffering of an immortal who rarely left.
Silas led us to a door painted in blue and green colors that stained his cheek. The mural, gorgeous as it was, depicted a meadow of red tulips in the great expanse of long, tall grass. A willow tree stood proudly as the focal point of the mural, as its tapered limbs swayed gently in the breeze artfully crafted by skilled fingers. The scene was split between the warm light of the sun kissing the red blooms and the silent guard of the moon.
An odd sensation flooded in, one I could not place, as I stared at the image.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
I nodded. “It’s beautiful, a dream—an absolute dream.”
Silas knocked on the door thrice, and it creaked open on its own accord. Inside was as magnificent.
I nearly fell to the floor, elation buzzing through my body wildly staring in on the beauty of such a simple space.
A grand piano, sleek black and dusted in gold trim, stood in the center of the space, overwhelming the room in grandeur. The study’s collection of books was outmatched by the sheer ones towering toward the ceiling as if it was touching the kingdom of God. A ladder clutched the shelves in reference, beckoning the mighty seeker to delve further into the stacks. The shelves wrapped themselves circularly against an iron staircase that went to the very top. Off to the corner lay a desk, less cluttered than the one Silas had been using in the east wing but not far off. Books stacked close to the desk made it so it blended in with the cherrywood. The mahogany scent mixed with sweet paper, and I almost forgot where I was for a moment.
I ran a finger or two against the white keys of the piano, their notes singing out in crisp clarity. I cautiously played a few bars, watching for Silas’s expression. He gave no indication of recognition, much less displeasure in me playing. I tapped another bar or two, thinking back to the night with Miriam and her green faerie men. The pull of the piano was too much, and I soon lost all sense of self, sitting on the bench and diving further into the piece I had committed to memory long ago.
Fingers ached as chords sang in sweet melody. The tune was a sad song turned to triumph under the pounding of keys. The soft melody boomed from my fingertips, filling the space and calling to the spiritsto listen. I began to crescendo into the final movement, tapping the ivories with little effort thudding with the trapped force of my heart. Soft tears kissed my cheeks, and I descended into a hush pianissimo, fluttering the keys until the end note hung in quiet solidarity.
I wiped my cheek. “Apologies, I got a little too excited.”
