The Music Room

“Aerys. Aerys! Wake up,” a velvety masculine voice urges near my ear. What is a man doing in my bedroom? I jolt upright and swing an arm in the direction of the voice, connecting with something warm and solid. “OUCH!” And then some cursing ensues, much to my chagrin.

“Get out of my room!” I groan.

“This is not your room! We took a nap in a guest room after exploring...Do you remember?” the voice grumbles, sounding more and more like my supposed fiancé with each word. I am amazed by how concerned his question sounds, considering that I seem to have hit him rather hard. I bury my face in the pillow, wishing that I could make him disappear. Maybe I can make another giant wave...Wait, giant wave? And then I remember everything--the secret room for practising elemental abilities, the little I was able to do with whatever power I seem to have, Dmitri carrying me to an unfamiliar part of the mansion because I couldn’t walk properly, him forcing me to change into a clean dress (out of his sight) because mine was fairly ruined from the practising. And then falling asleep in his arms, too tired to protest (and enjoying it too much to bother).

“Now I do.”

“Aerys, we’re meant to be at luncheon in less than ten minutes.”

“But...still tired....”

“If you will not walk on your own, I will carry you down there.”

“Want to sleep. Tell them not hungry.”

“It matters not whether or not you are hungry. Family meals are compulsory. Come along. We can go to the music room afterward.” Music room? That is so noteworthy that I actually pry my heavy eyelids open and look in his direction. He’s rubbing his shoulder, wincing occasionally and looking at me with a mixture of exasperation and concern.

“Promise?”

“I’m not sure you deserve a promise, after hitting me like that,” he frowns. I put my face back in the pillow.

“Not moving, then.”

“Did practicing really drain you that much?”

“So it would seem.”

“I really will carry you down there if you do not get up. That will look very suspicious, you know,” he informs me with a heavy sigh.

“So will me falling asleep in my food, which will happen either way. Can you not just tell them I am indisposed?”

“No.” With that, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. The indignity and general outrageousness of this situation wakes me up somewhat and gives me some energy, albeit negative.

“Put me down!” I demand, thumping a hand on his back for emphasis. He just laughs in reply.

“You asked for this. I warned you. Still you refused to cooperate. Now you can suffer the consequences.” Despite my further protests he carries me all the way to the dining room. Though I am putting on a good show of being upset, I really don’t mind this much. I simply do not want him to know that. Things are already...strange between us.

Luncheon begins with the usual questions from the bright-eyed Zinaida. She didn’t seem very talkative at my grandmother’s chateau, but I believe that was only her public persona. At her own private table, she’s quite the chatterbox, asking if I am at home here yet and trying in roundabout ways to determine how Dmitri and I are getting along. I decide to be difficult, which is easy enough, given that I’m still fairly exhausted. Dmitri does likewise, but his reasons are unknown to me. Accordingly, Zinaida chooses another, more fruitful topic of conversation.

“Well, Dmitri, you really ought to resume your studies tomorrow, don’t you think?” Zinaida suggests. I recognise the look in her eyes all too well, the one adults use when they mean for their “friendly suggestions’ to be taken as orders.

“Of course I would not mind,” Dmitri demurs, “but what will Aerys do with her time while I am occupied in such a way?” I smile slyly down at my plate. Dmitri plays this game as well as I do.

“Given how much time the two of you have spent touring the mansion over the past few days, Aerys should be able to find more than enough things to keep herself occupied,” Zinaida replies in the same tone she used with Dmitri. I’m not meant to argue.

“Of course I’ve seen many interesting things in our tours, but what if I get lost?” I reply as sweetly and innocently as I can.

“I highly doubt that you would get lost, and even if you did, the servants would help you if you asked them to. Or perhaps Juniper would be willing to escort you.” What an appalling idea.

“Could she not sit in on my lessons, Mother?” Dmitri inquires.

“Could I please? I would enjoy it so very much. I do so love to learn,” I add winningly with my most charming smile. A glance up from my meal reveals that Zinaida is struggling to come up with a good reason why I cannot sit in on his lessons, though why she would want to separate us, I cannot imagine, unless she thinks I will distract him.

On second thought, that might be a very good reason for me to stay away from his lessons.

“I am concerned that you will not learn as you ought if she is present, Dmitri,” Zinaida answers, giving her son a pointed stare.

“I do not believe you have any reason to be concerned about that,” Dmitri replies stiffly.

“Of course you wouldn’t. But the servants have been talking....”

“Servants do that. It makes their lives more interesting. I promise you I will be just as attentive to my studies as ever or more so with Aerys present.” His voice is flat, unemotional. Zinaida is clearly skeptical, but what can she say in the face of such a promise?

“I suppose we shall give it a trial run. You had best fill her in on where you are in your studies before tomorrow morning.”

“Of course.” And that ends the luncheon conversation, because both Dmitri and I have finished our meals and are dying to get out of that dining room. We leave without asking permission, which is against protocol, but since Dmitri is basically dragging me I don’t dare protest.

“Your mum is in a fine mood today, eh?” I mutter sarcastically. He rewards my joke with a brief humourless chuckle.

“Needs a hobby,” he grumbles.

“Wedding plans will no doubt serve that purpose in due time.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“So opposed to this match, dear?” I mock, recalling the time when he teased me about being eager to be wed while we were in the roof garden the first time. Fire flares in his eyes for a second and his whole body tenses momentarily before he regains his generally impeccable self-control. What was that? I don’t dare ask. The look in his eyes frightens me.

“No. But planning a wedding with her is a naturally repulsive idea, would you not agree? I’ve no doubt that she already has a vision of what it should be. If you have your own, things will be quite difficult.”

“Marriage was never a thought for me until my last birthday.”

“You’ve never had another man, then?” Something flashes in his eyes for a moment, that ugly flame belonging to the beast called jealousy. But why should that be? And I am offended by the question.

“Of course not. What do you take me for?”

“I meant no offense, Aerys. My apologies.”

“And what about you, Dmitri? Have you had another woman?”

“I have known about our match almost as long as I can remember. I am not the sort to violate such an agreement.”

“I wouldn’t think so, but it is said that such arrangements are even more reason for men to go astray in their youth.”

“I have had no one else, although it must be said that no one desirable has been in my presence from the age of nine or ten up until your arrival.”

“So you would have, if the opportunity had presented itself.”

“None can say with certainty what might have or would have been done in the past from the vantage point of the present.” His jaw is tight; there is more to be said. And do I detect the flush of embarrassment on the ridge of his cheekbones? “At any rate, we must make do with what we have now, not what might have been. And what we have now includes this music room, which should interest you greatly, if I am not mistaken.” He flings open a door, blowing away all of my questions with the gust from the movement, because behind the door is an exact replica of my music room in Grandmother’s chateau. I rush into it with delight, enjoying the fresh breeze coming through the numerous windows, the bright openness of the room, and most of all the shining grand piano that forms the centrepiece of this rapture. Dmitri watches me with amusement as I flit from one instrument to another, greeting each with the delight of seeing long-lost friends.

“If I had known you would be so excited about this, I would have brought you here sooner,” he remarks.

“It reminds me so much of the one in Grandmother’s chateau,” I reply by way of explanation.

“We designed it that way on purpose, for your comfort.”

“How did you know...?”

“My parents asked for photographs and a floor plan, of course. It is my understanding that your mother took the photographs while you were sleeping or otherwise occupied.”

“I had no idea she knew how to take photographs. Is it not quite complicated?”

“An art form in itself. Your mother lacks talent for it but her photographs served their purpose quite well, based on your reaction. But will you not play anything? Or will you simply dart around like a child and interrogate me?”

“What would you have me play? I must warn you, once I start it may be hours before I remember that you are here.”

“Whatever you wish. I am patient and enjoy listening to music when it is well played.” With that, he seats himself on a nearby stool. I go immediately to the piano, my favourite of the many instruments I play, and begin without sheet music on a beloved Rimsky-Korsakov piece. I’ve been playing long enough that, for the classics, sheet music is more or less obsolete. I think I surprised him, based on his expression as he sits just within my line of vision. I don’t think my family’s reports on my abilities really indicated my musical talents. Though everyone in my family can play at least one instrument, at least half of them have no ear for it (and the results are fairly horrendous).

Time slips by as my fingers dance on the ivory keys, singing stories in a language understood by all. But contrary to my expectations, I never forget Dmitri’s eyes on me. I cannot escape into the familiar world where only myself and the music exist. He is with us in that enchanted place now, and I am not entirely sure that I mind, which scares me. Is this feeling caused by the necklace, or is it something real, something meaningful? But I cannot wonder long, for as I begin on a famous waltz Dmitri rises from his seat and comes to stand behind me, close enough that I can feel his elemental heat radiating from his body.

“I don’t suppose you can dance and play at the same time?” he murmurs, his voice husky in the most alluring way possible. My pulse quickens and my skin heats. What is this feeling?

“Unfortunately, I am not quite that talented,” I reply in an undeniably sultry tone without missing a note. What is wrong with me? He steps closer, his hands brushing against my arms as I continue to play. Tingles rush throughout my body and all of my willpower must be devoted to my hands to keep music flowing from the piano.

“Such a pity. You’re the most talented I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. And I suspect you are also an excellent dancing partner.”

“Who told you that?”

“Just a hunch, based on your musical talent and the reports from your family on your education. You’ll have a chance to prove it quite soon. Mother loves balls, and I believe she is intent on holding one to celebrate our engagement.”

“Splendid. Perhaps I can provide the evening’s musical accompaniment and thus avoid the worst of the ordeal.”

“I take it, then, that you dislike such events.”

“I like to dance and enjoy music, but I strongly dislike large groups of strangers, and being shown off to those strangers like a new stallion or perhaps a fine art acquisition.” He chuckles warmly and I am grateful that I have finished the piece, as the sound makes my insides melt. I turn to face him, forcing him to drop his hands from my arms. He seats himself next to me on the piano bench as he answers my rather provocative statement.

“That I can understand. I have no great love of social gatherings, myself. But I suspect we will both enjoy it more if we spend it in each other’s company.”

“That may be so. But your mother seems to think we’ve been spending rather too much time together of late.”

“She listens too much to servant gossip and thinks that we have not been...chaste.”

“What poppycock. What servants have even seen us together--”

“It is precisely because we haven’t been seen overmuch together but both seem to be missing at the same time often that they have jumped to such conclusions.”

“Perhaps we ought to spend more time in normal occupations.”

“That’s why my mother has decided that I must resume my lessons.”

“What have you been studying, prior to my arrival?”

“Nothing you haven’t studied. All the usual things. I rather suspect you will know more about the subjects than I do. But no matter. They will begin in the library immediately after breakfast and go until luncheon. After luncheon I usually go riding or spend time in my studio until supper. After supper it is the same story, or a walk through the gardens. They are quite nice this time of year.”

“I would love to see them, beyond what little I saw in our last riding lesson.”

“And so you will, at the next riding lesson. The horses enjoy walking in the gardens, too.”

“And when will that be?”

“Either tonight or tomorrow, as you wish.”

“And when will I see your art? You have now heard me play.”

“Quite so, but you have not yet played for me, and so my studio remains forbidden to you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. Were you not the only one here while I played?”

“I was, but you played the classics. Quite well, it must be said, but to play for someone is to play something until then unheard and created on the spot with that someone in mind, or else something specifically requested.” This is an unheard-of notion for me, and I’m certain my face reflects that. “It is only fair, you see, for my art comes from inside me. I do not copy the masters’ work but instead create my own. And so you must create something and share it with me for me to do the same for you.”

“An interesting challenge.”

“Will you accept it?”

“You will find out in due time.” If he can be difficult, so can I.