Chapter 27 | You Have To See It With Your Ears

Elena's P.O.V.

The sound of my footsteps reflected around the empty halls that lead to the theater's main room. Through the way here, I have been keeping a steady eye open for every possibility of being jumped on. Those voices I heard a month ago, yeah, they were still not out of my head.

Either I'm being careful or I'm becoming too paranoid.

"Hello? Francis, are you here?" I called out, looking around for the monk in the empty room.

No answers. No sounds. No nothing. Just an abandoned building filled with warmth.

It's still better than my house though.

This is actually the first time I'm alone here, I thought, and silently hoped that I wouldn't do anything stupid to ruin it all - like burning the theater down while Francis is (probably) in the monastery.

I pulled out the music sheets that held the codes of a symphony, laying it neatly on the piano in front of me. And then, after cracking my fingers, I was playing one of my favorite compositions: Mariage D'Amour by Richard Clayderman.

My fingers danced across the piano keys, and sometimes it went a bit slow, other times I was confident in what I was doing. Sure, it didn't sound as magical and professional as it would've been if Francis played it, but if I'm going to reach his level, I have to practice.

The room was filled with a tranquility of music. Some people enjoy the sounds of waves, rain, wind or just complete silence.

But for me, there's nothing better than to listen to a piano concert. It's a dance between tangents and keys, a dance between music and feelings.

"Ow!" And then there's a kind of people who can't even keep the silence at its peace for even a minute.

"Ethan!" An irritated look was aimed at the prince who was laying on the floor, his feet entwined in a rope. "I know you're a stalker and all, but seriously, invading someone's privacy and eavesdropping? Even I didn't believe that you would sink that low."

He rolled his eyes, still trying to get out of the knot his feet had stumbled into. "First of all, I am not a stalker," he said slowly as if I was a child with problems of hearing. "Second of all, I just arrived here, so technically, I did not eavesdrop," he stated matter-of-factly, pointing a finger at me. "Besides, I'm only here to eavesdrop on you when you sing, not when you play - there's a difference."

I rolled my eyes, finding his explanation a bit comical. "Sure, Your Majesty, whatever you say."

"So. . . does that mean that you are going to sing?"

A laugh escaped my lips, "You wish. I'm not here to practice my vocals, you idiot, but my playing."

He rolled his mahogany brown eyes, scratching the side of his chin where scattered beauty marks were painted. "But since you're already playing, then you can just as well sing, right? Because you did say that you finish whatever you start-"

"But! You did say, and I quote, 'there's a difference' between singing and playing. And therefore, I am finishing what I started; I'm finishing a symphony, not a song." I pointed out, feeling the strong taste of victory.

"Yeah, but. . . You know, there's a- I mean, of course, but I meant- oh, leave me alone now," I laughed at the messy sentences rambling out of his mouth. "It's not fair, you can't just use my words against me like that. I'm not a born lawyer as you can see."

Neither am I.

A smile stretched across my face, and I waved Ethan over. "Come here, you talentless prince, I'll show you why there's a difference between singing and playing - why a song and a symphony does not share a face."

He chuckled, but obeyed my request and sat down next to me. "Please, do show me, oh wise one."

And then I performed. I played a small part of the song One Last Time by Ariana Grande before I returned to the symphony, Mariage D'Amour. "You hear it?"

Ethan leaned his ear towards the keys, carefully listening to what I was trying to say. "Yes, I hear a cool song and a boring song."

My eyes rolled due to his lack of understanding in my double faced words. "No, you dimwit, listen closely now." And I played it again, and again, and again, and again. "You see it now?"

"I see a piano," I sighed, slightly annoyed at his answer. "No, but seriously, there's literally no difference, Ella, it's the same thing; piano. You can't hear anything else than the piano." Although his words were somewhat calm, I still caught the undertone of frustration.

"And that's why you don't feel it," I told him, looking into his warm, puzzled eyes. "You're too occupied listening to the melody that you don't see its soul. When someone's sad, how can you tell that they're feeling low?"

He hesitated before answering, bewildered over my odd question. "You see their tears."

"And when someone's happy, how can you tell that they're alright?"

Slowly but sure, he was catching on to what I was trying to explain. "You watch their smile."

"Exactly. And it's the same thing with music - you don't hear songs and symphonies." He met my eyes, watching my words spill out of my orbs. "You see it with your ears."

There was a pause following my statement, and I knew it was only Ethan taking his time to let my words melt in. He was watching the piano keys and tangents while swimming in his mind, and I took that as an opportunity to play the song and symphony again.

But this time, when I started playing Mariage D'Amour, it was different; I didn't stop the composition midways, I continued playing and followed the art to its death. Feelings and music danced everywhere, tangents and keys created a story; in other words, we saw the soul put into the work.

It felt like we were surrounded by an eternal forest, I could hear the birds' faint chirps and the winds lying. And suddenly all the seasons were in one place; snow was flying, flowers were thriving, we were bathing in the sun, and leaves were falling.

And the world ended when the symphony left with the final note.

"Wow," Ethan mumbled next to me, and I looked at him with a cheeky smile.

He definitively saw it.

"What is it, Your Highness, did you finally realize my words' true meaning?" I bumped into him, teasing him. "Aw, look at that, you do like the symphony better than the song!"

He snapped out of the hypnosis, shaking his head to hastily deny my statement. "Pfft, of course, I don't like it! It's so boring and. . . slow and. . . has no lyrics and. . . I think you should play it again, especially from the na na na na na na-"

I couldn't help it, I doubled over and laughed until tears surfaced. "Sure, Ethan, sure," my words were still jiggling in hilarity, and I looked at his smiling face that chuckled along.

"I still don't like the symphony though," he clarified, taking the music sheet in his hands and tracing it with his fingers, scanning each and every note tattooed on the paper.

He used the right term for the work.

A small smile displayed on my lips as I watched him and his words carefully. "Of course, Your Majesty, there's no doubt that you do not enjoy Mariage D'Amour."

"That's not how you pronounce it," he gave me a disgusted look. "It's French, you have to pronounce it like a French person; Mariage D'Amour."

I was taken aback for a moment, and for a while, I couldn't do anything than to stare at him with utter surprise.

"You speak French?" I finally got out.

He shrugged his shoulders, a cheeky smile painted on his lips. "Well, yeah, I think the language is beautiful and addictive to listen to - it's just so, I don't know, magical."

Magical. Believe me, I know all about magical stuff.

"French is my getaway language - if that makes sense," Ethan continued, looking at me to see if I was following his words. "J'aime parler le français, parce que personne ne peut comprendre de quoi je parle."

A puzzled grimace surfaced on my face, and I shook my head to snap out of the enchanting and foreign wording. "I'm not entirely sure what you said, but I am certain that it has something to do with you enjoying the fact that no one can understand you."

He laughed, "Maybe," he gave an innocent shrug. "So, do you have any getaway language - a language that you can speak without anyone understanding you, or is that just me?"

I chewed on his words, dwelling on if I should spill my secrets. "Yes, I mean, I got two but I only speak fluently in one of them."

"Two? Wow, I didn't know you could speak English."

Although the comment was aimed to mock me, it made me snort with laughter. "Surprising, right?" I joined him in the light air, slowly taking the music sheet out of his hands and putting it back to its place. "Ready to hear the na na na na na na again?"

"Wait, you didn't tell me-"

I cut him off by playing, and he didn't object to the boring symphony that was dancing around us.

"You know what, you can tell me about it later."

I wasn't sure when 'later' was going to be, but I did know that time was a funny thing in the world of music.

We sat in the theater for God knows how long, and I had no idea how many times I played the magical symphony. But it was more than enough for Ethan to know how to hum it forward and backward, and enough for me to know it without the song sheet in sight.

Time fled, the sun disappeared, the light vanished, and neither Ethan or I noticed any of the important details. We were too busy enjoying the work, the small jokes we exchanged from time to time and the moment that everything just effaced around us.

"Ethan!"

But just like a symphony, all good things come to an end - no matter how long the work is composed.

Conner was standing with his arms crossed, looking tired and annoyed whereas Lorenzò was smiling from ear to ear. His brown eyes weren't covered with slumber like his blonde-haired friend - in fact, the Hispanic boy looked more awake than the shiny moon.

"Well, look at that," the curly-haired boy started, glancing at his sleepy friend. "Who would've guessed that the Prince of Areadan could actually stay in one place over a long period of time."

Ethan rolled his eyes, "I've been staying in Areadan for my entire life, so your comment is invalid."

"Touché, Bauquemare," Lorenzò pointed out, walking up the stairs to the stage. "I hope he hasn't bothered you too much, Elena," he looked at me, throwing a teasing smile at the tall brunette. "El príncipe can be a handful sometimes, especially when he gets interested in some certain things."

Like learning French?

Whereas Lorenzò was chewing on a cunning smile, Ethan was rolling his eyes. However, none of them spoke any further as a grumpy Conner beat them both. "Guys!" He groaned, choking down a yawn and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Can we just go home? I'm so exhausted after looking for you-" he pointed an accusing finger at Ethan. "-For hours!"

"You have to excuse le sonámbulo here," Lorenzò waved to his irritated, tired friend. "His bedtime was two hours ago, and when he isn't sleeping within nine o'clock, he gets a bit gruñón."

"He get's green onion?" Ethan misheard, a bewildered look stretched across his face.

"No, you idiot," I spoke before the curly-haired boy could correct him or throw a comment. "He said gruñón, it means grumpy or grouchy."

Lorenzò raised an eyebrow, a twinkling smile in his eyes, "You speak Spanish?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Un poco. Yo no hablar español con fluidez."

A grin appeared on his face, "Bien, para mí parece como lo haces. I'm impressed, you speak better than most people."

I smiled, "Gracias."

"Guys, seriously, I am in no mood to listen to Spanish in the middle of the-"

"Wait, Spanish is your getaway language?" Ethan cut a groaning Conner off, ignoring his sleepy friend's comment.

"Well, one of them," I answered as I collected the song sheets. "But I'm more fluent in Norwegian."

All of their faces turned into a mess of puzzlement, heck, even Conner gave me an awake look of perplex.

Yeah, I don't blame them for finding my statement odd.

"Norwegian? What kind of a language is that?" Ethan started, giving me a curious glance. "Why would you even know how to speak it?"

I rolled my eyes, putting the papers into my small leather bag pinned on my body. "Because my grandmother is from Norway, that's why."

"Oh," they all chorused.

"Wait, what's Norway?"

Conner answered the question before I could get to it, "Who cares, it's probably one of those Southern Kingdoms no one knows about either way."

Poor guy, he is so tired that he doesn't even care to have his facts right.

"Well, anyway, you guys should take Dormilón home now," I pointed at their blonde-haired friend who was now yawning nonstop, swaying side to side. "He looks like he's about to pass out."

My words seemed to have been the final push because the exhausted boy finally fell asleep. Literally, he fell asleep.

"I got him!" Lorenzò jumped from the stage and caught his friend just in time, saving Conner from hitting the ground. "This is the last time I let him stay up late at night."

A small air of laughter left my nose, and I shook my head in amusement at the scene. Looking at the snoring boy made me realize how tired I really am, and I knew I had to get home quickly before I end up like Conner. "I think this is our cue to end the day. We better get some sleep if we still want to wake up tomorrow."

"Nórdico has a point," Lorenzò threw his limp friend over his shoulder, holding him from falling down as he walked towards the door. "Come on guys, I can't carry Conner forever."

We followed him out of the theater and were met by the icy breeze swirling around us. I enjoyed the night's tranquility and the cold air hugging the warm spots on my body. Lorenzò, on the other hand, didn't seem affected by the crispy wind whatsoever.

However, I can't say the same thing about the trembling Ethan.

"God, it's so cold," his quivering lips matched his shaky words, and he rubbed his coated arms in an attempt to summon some of the lost warmth.

"Do you want to borrow my cloak?" I offered, already taking it off.

"But won't you be cold?" Ethan asked, pointing at my thin dress that didn't offer any heat. I shook my head, holding out the blue clothing for him to take, "Well, in that case, yes, thank you."

He quickly wrapped the mantle around his body, and I watched him sigh in delight when the heat from the coat hugged him. Before we reached the end of the alley, Ethan swiftly pulled the blue hood over his head, concealing him from the few people that walked around.

"You look like Humpty Dumpty that fell into paint instead of the ground," Lorenzò commented, causing a snickering laughter to fall out of my lips and the prince to roll his eyes.

We didn't speak much after that. I guess we were all too tired to engage in a conversation and empty of words.

For a long time, we walked in silence, and it wasn't before we reached the path that would lead me to the forest that I broke the ice.

"Well, I guess this is where we separate," I started, looking at the woods behind me. "Thanks for today, and don't let the bed bugs bite you - night!"

"Wait!" Ethan called, "You can sleep in the castle if you want to, we have many guest rooms-"

"Nah, I think I'll just head home," I declined and hoped that Hazel would show some mercy.

"Let us follow you home then, it's too late and dark to wander home alone now," Lorenzò spoke, moving his head to the black sky to illustrate his words.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I replied, strapping the bag closer to my body. "I'll see you guys another time, tell Conner I said good morning when he wakes up."

"Wait, what about your cloak!" Ethan's hands were fumbling to take the clothing off, but his fingers were too cold to function properly to unlock the knot.

"You need it more than I do, Your Highness, keep it!" I told him, and bid my last goodnight and waved them goodbye before I faced the journey home.

"Mariage D'Amour," I mumbled to myself, pronouncing it the same way Ethan showed me. A laugh left my lips as I couldn't get over the fact that he spoke the baguettes' language.

"What a French idiot."