“True,” Lily-Anne murmurs, though she doesn’t look convinced. “But I’d love to hear it properly. We could be careful.”
“Extracareful,” Ellenor promises. “We’ll exercise constant vigilance.”
I know it even before Lily-Anne nods—there’s no stopping her now. Her nerves are overridden by something deeper than caution, her eyes alight with a quiet, determined curiosity.
A few minutes later, we’re in the castle proper, surrounded by rich oak panelling and elaborate plaster ceilings. The place is well lit, and a disappointed Ellenor mutters “Nox” and stows her wand. Thankfully, there’s not a soul in sight.
The music reaches us more clearly here, an orchestral swell rising somewhere ahead. It masks our footsteps but dulls our ability to hear anyone else who might be nearby.
Jack leads us through the corridors, and we peer around corners, sneaking forward as the music grows steadily louder.
“It’s coming from the Mallandain Room,” he says under his breath. “This way.”
Ahead of us, double doors stand ajar. The full weight of the orchestra pours through them now, along with the scrape of chairs and the low murmur of voices. I catch glimpses of instrument cases stacked near the walls. My skin prickles.
This is too close.
I’m about to halt us when Jack veers sideways, pulling us into an adjacent room no larger than a cubicle.
“A broom cupboard!” Ellenor whispers happily as she shuts the door, though it holds only a vacuum and floor scrubber.
“Should be safe enough to listen from here,” Willoughby says, teeth glinting in the dim light.
While I’m not keen on sharing such a cramped space with him, I’m suddenly glad to be here. There’s something thrilling about hiding like this, listening as the orchestral arrangement seeps through the walls, strings lifting and folding over one another until my chest aches. It takes me back to my college years, sneaking out with friends when consequences still felt distant.
More than that, I watch Lily-Anne. She’s completely still, eyes closed, her expression softening as the music washes over her. Watching her like this, I feel it too—the nerves easing, the rules and risks slipping into the background, even my irritation with Jack momentarily forgotten. We are somewhere we shouldn’t be, listening to something not meant for us.
Ellenor seems moved as well.
Jack…is on his phone.
I take the opportunity to lean close to Lily-Anne. “Do you miss it?” I ask softly. “Playing in the orchestra?”
She considers this for a moment, then she nods. “I do, actually.” A small pause. “But not enough to want to go back.”
Jack glances up from his phone.
“Nice arrangement,” he says, a little too casually. “Still doesn’t beat playing it live, though.”
There it is. Nudging her back towards the café.
“And plenty of cafés to do it in,”I say mildly.
“Yeah. But you want the right room for that kind of sound.”
“Or the right people.”
Lily-Anne’s gaze flicks from Jack to me, a small frown forming. Whatever she’s thinking about our quiet standoff she keeps to herself.
Not Ellenor, who elbows her lightly. “Merlin’s beard. This just got interesting.”
Jack glares at me. I hold his gaze without flinching.
He breaks eye contact first, his focus sliding back to his phone, retreat disguised as disinterest.
Only then do I register Lily-Anne watching me quietly. I turn, and for several heartbeats we hold each other’s attention.
Then, the final notes of music fade next door, breaking the spell.
