Thankfully for both of us, the lights dimmed and the murmuring quieted. The show was starting. Misty meandered back to my feet. Perhaps it was best that Bennett’s gift wasn’t edible for my cat.
Is he done whispering sweet nothings?
I shot her a glare.He was not whispering sweet nothings.
She made herself comfortable on the plush carpet.Sure.
He was only being friendly,I thought to her fiercely.
Bennett took my hand and slipped something cool onto my finger. It was an emerald ring, glittering in the dim light, the impressive stone surrounded by luminous seed pearls.
“Good. It fits,” Bennett whispered. His breath tickled my ear.
I swallowed. “You didn’t have to.”
I made a move to pull away, but Bennett closed his fingers around mine. He seemed emboldened by the darkness. “I wanted to send it with the others, but I thought it best to give it to you myself,” he said softly.
My appreciation for the dimmed lights increased tenfold. I was sure my face was the same shade as my hair.
Oh yes.Veryfriendly, Misty said wryly.
“You...didn’t run off to get this yesterday, did you?” I asked, turning to him.
That was a mistake. Bennett was much closer than I anticipated. He merely smiled—smiled. “It was a worthy errand.”
The orchestra began playing a lilting overture. “I’m afraid Ulysses did not think so.”
“Let’s not talk about Ulysses,” he murmured.
The curtains lifted slowly from the stage. I gently tugged my hand out of his. “The show is starting.”
But Bennett’s eyes were still on me. I took a pair of opera glasses from the stand beside us and shoved it in his hands, babbling something about having a better view.
I grabbed Misty from the ground despite her protests and tucked her over my shoulder, shielding my face with her fur. Anything to get his eyes off me. I didn’t think I could take another smile without doing something very unwise. Like kiss him senseless.
Misty pawed at my collarbones.You’re suffocating me.
Just one more minute, I pleaded.
She mewed in exasperation.Perhaps he was a littletoofriendly.
The curtains drew back fully, exposing a bright stage. It displayed the celestial scene we had seen yesterday, but now flooded with intense limelight. On top of the giant painted moon sat Celeste, swathed in a glittering blue robe that trailed to the stage floor. The clouds behind her floated along the suspension wires.
She opened her mouth and sang.
Her voice was high and sweet, yet resonant. She sang about loneliness, longing, curiosity for the world below. The orchestra rose and fell like waves with her song.
The audience was enraptured. It was nothing like traditional opera that at times pierced one’s ears. Celeste’s voice was softer. Melodious. Entrancing.
The composition played out within the span of two hours, the intermission brief. The moon goddess descended to the earth and fell in love with a human king. He showed her the wonders of his kingdom, but it wasn’t long before his scheming concubine spread the rumor of the goddess being a wicked succubus. The citizens drove her away to a desolate desert. It was there she died, abandoned by her love. In the finale, Celeste, dressed in shimmering white, returned to the moon, concluding the story.
Applause roared within the auditorium when she took her final bow. The curtains fell. The room filled with warm candlelight once again.
“Well, that was simply phenomenal!”
I turned to see Ulysses behind us. “When did you come in, Ulysses?”
“Oh, just a few minutes after the opera started.” The steward polished his spectacles and gestured to the curtains. “We ought to slip off before the crowd thickens. Your Highness, Lady Narcissa?”
