Violet Shadows

34

She hadn't meant to draw more attention to her crying earlier, but, "You really don't have to come with me."

Except Nicol, suddenly, felt the urge to cover his amusement with worry."If I leave you alone, I'm scared you'll end up crying again." Eventually, they passed by the statue of the Goddess but it was overshone by the sun above. Squinting could not remedy a clear sight. In the early hours of the day, especially of that considered holiday, patrons that normally dwelled within the church were now scattered out. As such, pews occasionally filled now only had light to replace worshipers. Nicol whispered to her as they cut through several doors, "Hopefully, the next time you cry it will be because of my absence and not whatever plagues you. Now go play. You'll feel better afterward."

Her lips twitched as she inspected the piano. "So you prefer for me to drown my sorrows in music rather than cake?"

"One won't of those options won't cost you a couple of coins."

"Always thinking about the money, aren't you."

"I feel it's my best quality."

It's probably your only good quality, she thought ruefully as she settled down. The piano's bench shifted underneath the combined weight of Nicol and herself, and she pretended not to notice that he hadn't brought forth one of the chairs lying towards the back, instead choosing to sit next to her. Ignoring him by imagining he was just Dad critiquing her word, she began to play. Christine frowned. Pausing in her place, she groaned as the jaunted notes sizzled back towards her. Although out-of-tune, it would have to have due.

"Tell me," Nicol said, careful to speak in parts that required little concentration. "How does the high daughter of House Ducal learn how to play the heurne?"

She fumbled over a note, fingers pressing against several wrong keys. "This is why I wanted to keep it a secret." She hissed.

"Because you can't tell me?" Nicol rolled his eyes. "Please, it's not like House Rumiere doesn't have its fair share of bad history. Slavery, murder, bribes—we all once played those games."

She evaded the question with her own bile. "Nicol, I'm not interested in hearing how evil our families are."

"You used to be so noisy," He crooned, lips near a smile, "What changed?"

"I'm only drawing the lines where they've always been."

"Of course you are," He muttered, any hint of a smile gone. "Does this have something to do with the person trying to kill you?"

Battered, wrong notes molded through the air. "Why do you always bring it back to this?"

"You can't help me if you're dead."

"You've already told me this." A hundred times.

"And I'll say it again for the millionth time until it's ingrained in your head."

"No, this doesn't have to do with that person." Christine sighed. The lie was supposed to keep him from prodding on about the need for a contract when her position was quite comfortable. But if it had the wrong effect, then, "That person has been taken care of."

"Good." He said, oblivious to the fact that he was the person and still alive and well.

Awkwardly, she played on. Staring wouldn't help the matter. Neither would thinking about it.

If it weren't for the bells ringing that marked the early hour, she almost wouldn't be able to hear him say, "You're not bad at this."

Despite the jarring sound of morning bells, her ears perked at the rare occasion. Awe coated her cheeky grin."Is that a compliment I hear?"