Maddie is burnt out at the same time as her favorite Youtubers, TwoSet Violin.
But when her archeology major, a thrifted jewelry, and the legend of King Arthur's wizard get tied by a magical link, her and TwoSet's world will collide and change for t...
Her eyelids began to part. Hold on, she squinted, where am I?
"I don't know what happened, but we're not in Warsaw anymore." Eddy whispers.
Brett leans in and adds, "I saw someone holding a brochure, this is Salle Pleyel, we're in Paris!"
"What...?"
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Indeed, they're now in a completely different concert hall. There's no pipe organ in this one, to Maddie's mild disappointment. And instead of a recital, the show they're attending is an orchestral one. Brett mentions the title of the piece that the performers will be playing, but it's not in English, and, to her still fuzzy brain, very much indecipherable. Though she was still able to recognize the composer's name; Ravel.
Eddy noticed the disconnect in her expression and explained in a whisper, "It means Dance of the Grateful Jester."
"Wait," she murmurs back, "as in, the jester is grateful to be alive?"
Surprised, he raises his brows, prompting Maddie to elaborate further.
"You know, grateful that the king doesn't..." the sentence ended with her hand gesturing an imaginary sharp line across her neck.
A grin spread across his face, impressed that she got it out of the get-go, "Actually yeah, but Ravel kind of adapted a lighter interpretation."
Maddie mouthed an oh, nodding along while watching the instrumental ensemble file into their designated positions.
"The piece is supposed to sound playful but also somewhat terrifying, since jesters were basically thankful every day that they live," he continues, "because they haven't gotten their heads..." he ended the explanation with his hand gesticulating an imaginary sharp line across his neck.
The two quietly giggle as the audience clap welcoming the conductor onto the stage in front of them.
Throughout the performance, Maddie is still enfolded in Eddy's arms - the girl is no longer nodding off to sleep, so there's no need to protect her from slipping out of the seat. Yet there she is; half of her upper body resting against his, head still laying on the same warm chest. She can feel it occasionally vibrate a little when he hums to the music, but mostly, she can feel his heartbeat. Hopefully, he couldn't also feel hers, because her heart is behaving like a runaway train.
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