I don’t know how we managed it, but after a light lunch of sharp cheese and the still warm bread Bleu had brought in fresh from the bakery down the street, we were both feeling sleepy. Initially I had felt hopped up on fear and the possibilities the unknown held from the promises of a wondrous prize from the ex-court wizard, but I supposed the lack of deep sleep while traveling and waking up relatively early that morning had finally decided to catch up to me. My mother had always wisely warned that if you don’t take time to rest your body that it will choose a time for it to happen anyway and usually at an inconvenient time.

Bleu kept casting longing looks as he moved between tables refilling glasses of wine and ale for the nobles that had been roused from their deep slumbers by the delivery of the news. Despite them having only been afforded a few hours of sleep at most since they had been released from the castle, they were all buzzing with the new source of gossip and already loudly discussing amongst themselves how it was a shame that the plans had been changed so suddenly. None of them had seemed to consider such a scenario might occur and did not pack any clothing suitable for an execution or a funeral and were making fervent plans to get to a shop as soon as possible that day before everyone else in the city realized they would need to get outfits as well. It was strange to see them treat both the funeral and execution as a sort of high fashion event. Surely checking out what everyone else was wearing would not be high on the priority list for most people attending the event, or at least it shouldn’t be.

“I think I need a nap,” Mable said, then dramatically yawned and stretched her upper body back in the chair until it looked like any further might be painful. “We’ll need some sleep for tonight too. Lots to do and see and that’s even before we do you know what you know where.”

I nodded in agreement and yawned as well, having been triggered by Mable. I couldn’t even fathom yet that I was going on a date and then immediately going to casually stroll down to the castle and sneak into the dungeons. Maybe some sleep would help me wake up refreshed and able to process exactly what I had managed to get myself into, though I very much doubted I would be able to make sense out of the day’s events. My mind just kept returning to the same line of thinking over and over again: I was just here to play some music for the wedding, how did it turn out this way?

“Come on, back to our rooms,” she said after standing and pulling me gently by the arm so I would stand. I had half fallen asleep without realizing. “Once we hear the dinner clatter downstairs we’ll get dressed and ready.”

Plopped into my bed, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and it seemed like I had merely blinked when I opened my eyes once more, except this time I was laying face down on the pillow, holding it in a death grip like I had been strangling it in my sleep. Blinking away the strange, not quite real feeling you get after waking up from a deep slumber, I found I was unable to move my legs as much as I figured I should have. My legs were terribly tangled in the blanket like I had kicked, thrashed, and rolled the entire time I had been asleep. It was strange that I would have slept so fitfully as I usually did not move very much while I slept unless I was having some kind of a nightmare. Not only could I not remember any dreams at all, but even for a nightmare this level of movement was excessive.

Once freed from the blanket, I peeled my clothes and grimaced at how sticky with sweat they were. There were very few things I could think of that grossed me out more than clothing being damp and stuck to my skin. Probably came from the fact that for a huge portion of my life clothing was optional and heavily discouraged. It was a strange feeling to go through my first summer away from the commune and having to refrain from just peeling off my clothing when I got too warm and instead being forced to sit and endure the discomfort. There were not a lot of things about the Druidic life that I didn’t particularly mourn losing, but the freedom to regulate my body temperature without the judgment of polite society was one of the few on the list. With the remaining water in the basin on the nightstand and the provided scrap of cloth and sliver of neutral smelling soap I scrubbed myself lightly until I no longer felt sticky and sweaty. Just as I was finishing up patting myself dry there was a soft knock at my door.

“It’s me, Mable.”

“Come in,” I responded.

The door opened, revealing Mable in a pale pink dress made of light and airy cotton that swirled around her as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. I hadn’t seen her wear it before and she hadn’t bought anything today so it must have been squashed into the bottom of her bag for a special occasion. In her hands she held my shopping packages from earlier in the day. I had accidentally left them in her room when we rushed out to get the official decree.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said with an amused smile on her lips.

“Interrupt?” I asked, not catching on to what she thought she was interrupting.

“Usually people scramble to cover themselves up when they’re in the middle of something while naked and someone comes by.”

I looked down at my body, then back to her. This was one part of society that I struggled to understand, everyone had the same bits underneath their clothing or at least close enough that a wide majority of the time nothing should be shocking or come as a surprise. I wondered if people in the comfort of their own homes shied away from their family and lovers, covering up at every opportunity and feeling embarrassed if they were viewed without clothing. There was nothing I had that Mable didn’t and vice versa, I saw no reason to cover or be ashamed while she was around. I followed the convention for the general public, but I didn’t see the point of upholding the societal convention in a private space I controlled.

“Why? Nothing you haven’t seen before,” I answered. “The cats in the back alley don’t go around shying away from each other because they can’t figure out how to make loin cloths.”

“That’s fair I suppose,” she chuckled.

She set the three packages on the bed and tilted her head to the side while she looked at me. It seemed she was thinking about something intensely as she studied my face.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing really… just trying to figure out how to explain how you are to my brain. I keep thinking of you like you’re innocent and bashful because I associate naivety with innocence, but that’s not correct for you. You are naive in some things, but innocent isn’t the right term to associate with you. You’re more free flowing and wild, not innocent.”

“Innocent?” I scrunched my nose up in distaste, I did not like the common notion of what was innocent. “Embracing the naked body does not make me any more or less innocent. In nature, without the pressure of other people, I do not think outside of weather conditions many people would be inclined to feel the need to cover up. It is incredibly strange to me that people equate being more or less clothed to anything sexual or deviant. Babies do not come out of the womb and people rush to cloth them from head to toe to preserve their innocence. Nakedness is a natural state of being and ancient people were not less innocent or more naive for not being so hung up on covering their skin.”

A smile grew on Mable’s face as I ranted and she nodded in agreement by the end. “I suppose that was a poor choice of words even though it was what I meant at the time. Remember, I was raised in polite society where good, well behaved girls simply did not walk around naked, not even really in front of female family members or friends. Only the bad girls with mischievous ideas that lead others astray skinny dipped out in the pond on the back of the property.”

“Let me guess, you were one of the bad girls.”

“I pretty much came up with the idea and dared my friends into joining me. That definitely got me labeled as the rebel, worldly girl who everyone thought was so much more mature and not so innocent,” she explained with a grin. “I really liked that reputation though as soon as my parents caught wind of it I was threatened to be sent to the nearest convent for whatever god was acceptable. They wouldn’t do it I think, but at the time I was scared enough to make sure I snuck around a whole lot more carefully.”

She let out a throaty chuckle as she thought back to her adolescent antics. I kind of wished I had some sort of similar experience, though skinny dipping was not a concept back at the commune. We had always swum naked, it was the expected state of being while in the water. Wearing clothes only to get them soggy and heavy on you while you swam made little sense.

“I didn’t mean to jump down your throat, I just hate when people assume because I lived the Druidic life that I’m something special and primitive, something unspoiled by the trappings of modern life. It’s silly and makes me feel like some sort of exotic exhibit for people to be fascinated by rather than treated like a person. I grew up differently, that’s all that’s unique about me and the reality of it is far less interesting than people think it must be.” I explained with a sigh. “The worst are the men that think they’re going to take me by the hand and show me around the world while I murmur in awe at all the things they’re so graciously showing me.”

“Well I’ll do better to try to keep it in mind and stop thinking I should be walking you around the city and showing you cool stuff. I get how that probably is condescending sometimes.”

“And sometimes nice,” I added, “don’t get me wrong, I enjoy you strutting around the city like you know exactly where you’re going and navigating things for me. It gives me an idea of how to act and how to interact with people and situations I’ve never had to before.”

“Speaking of such situations, have you been on a proper date before? Not a guy buys you drinks at the bar you’re playing at and tries to woo their way into your bed with sweet words, but actual formality to planning ahead and being treated special?” she asked, unfurling my new outfit from the outside paper wrapper.

The dress was somehow even prettier than I remembered it being in the store. Maybe it was the glowing light of the sunset reflecting on the strands of silk, but the fabric felt alive and like it was lit from within. The light from the window hitting the glass beads on the corset cascaded tiny rainbows across the pale, sky blue bodice. The outfit was beyond a shadow of a doubt the most beautiful and the fanciest pieces of clothing I had ever owned and I even felt a little silly for going off about people and their ever present desire to stay covered up with clothing. If this was the kind of clothing available, maybe keeping myself adorned with such beautiful fabric wasn’t such an odd or off putting idea.

“No,” I answered finally after taking a moment to run my hands over the smooth, cool fabric, “I never really found myself in a situation where it has come up before. Always seemed like the people I had been interested in before were never into the idea of seeing me seriously, just a few drinks, maybe a fun night, then back out the door in the morning.”

“The curse of the bard,” she said with clear understanding in her voice. “People are often drawn to bards since they’re the ones lighting up the room and entertaining the crowd, everyone loves a musician. But we also get labeled as flighty and unstable as far as our lives go, most people assume we’re just going to wander from town to town breaking hearts along the way. We’re good for a fling, but not anything serious.”

That explained quite a bit, especially why people always looked surprised after meeting me for the first time and then seeing I was still there weeks later. Perhaps I hadn’t found anyone before who wanted anything serious because they always assumed I would walk out of their life soon. I could understand that, I wouldn’t really like the idea of giving my heart away to someone who would just up and leave me either. Frustrating, seeing as I was being pre-judged, but also kind of understandable seeing as usually that was a safe assumption.

“Not that you have this problem tonight,” she said brightly. “Now let’s get you into this gown, I’ll help you. With silky material like this there is a learning curve as to how to get it on without snagging every little rough bit of skin, odd hangnail, or jewelry and ending up with pulled threads.”

“At least I know I don’t have one of those things,” I said with an amused snort.

“I noticed that and I would have bought a necklace or brought one of my own with me, but I figured I had already pushed you enough today with buying the outfit in the first place and you might throw a proper fit if I tried to also adorn you in jewels.”

“You guessed right,” I replied.

Holding my arms over my head like a small child getting prepared for their parents to dress them for the day, I waited for her to align the silky yellow fabric and slip it over my head. My body shivered from the slick, cool feeling of the fabric going over my skin, it was like splashing in a cool forest stream on a hot summer day. The sensation was something I hadn’t even realized I had been missing, but now that I was experiencing it again it filled me with a pang of longing for the carefree days splashing in the water as a child during the hot and humid summer months.

“Hold still,” she gently reminded me as she tugged at a bit of fabric that was being stubborn about laying into place smoothly on my skin.

Once the gown was on, she helped me into the corset bodice and pulled it tight, but not so tight to leave me miserable all night. In fact, it felt sort of nice with the silk fabric of the dress pressed snuggly to my torso, like a silky hug.

“Thank you,” I said as I tugged down the sleeve to my elbows and stepped into the matching shoes. “How do I look?”

“Like a million gold pieces,” she said with an appreciative click of her tongue. “Million and one once we get you in the candlelight at dinner. Let me guide you where to sit wherever we end up so you’ll look the most stunning. That shop owner isn’t going to know what hits him, he’s going to be so struck that he’s going to move the heavens and the physical planes to get you to stay in this city so he can keep seeing you.”

I couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on my lips at the idea. “Let’s get going then.”

“Atta girl, let’s go break some hearts.”

Downstairs Bleu was already nervously waiting near the door. With him he had an equally nervous looking friend with bright flaxen hair with a matching beard. Any other time I might have been impressed with the date that had been scrounged up for me, but I didn’t find myself interested in getting to know him, though I was very interested in how Mable was planning to navigate the fact that she had arranged several men to show up that were interested in being on the date with her and her alone. I could not see this being something Bleu would take in stride.

“Bleu dear, here we are,” she cooed as she approached.

Both the men’s jaws dropped open as she approached and I was even more glad that the extra gentleman was not going to be tasked with keeping me company, it was obvious he would not have been inclined to keep his focus on me at all for the evening. Not that I could blame him. I looked good, but even in a cheaper fabric and a more simple style she simply radiated femininity and class.

“You look…” Bleu seemed to have lost the ability to complete his sentence as his eyes wandered over every inch of Mable.

“This old thing?” she asked followed by a light laugh as she tugged at the fabric of her dress. “It was literally stuffed into the bottom of a bag and crumbled to death. I’m sure it looks terrible compared to what Rose is wearing.”

Mable stepped to the side to dramatically reveal me to the gentlemen and they both gave me a glance and a polite smile with a nod of their heads, but their eyes were quickly back onto the true object of their raging desire. Even though I had no interest in either of them, it still stung slightly, I certainly felt pretty, at least pretty enough for them to have lingered their gaze for at least a little longer. I looked towards Mable and she dramatically rolled her eyes and raised her hand into a classic pose of a chastising mother where she was preparing to enumerate all the things you just did that were wrong.

“Rude and ill mannered, gentlemen,” she said in a disappointed tone. “You are going out with the both of us, you need to appreciate the fact that we both took the time and effort to get ready and look good. You are very, very lucky to have the both of us accompany you tonight.”

Sheepishly, they both gave me another glance and looked me up and down and gave looks of appreciation. I appreciated her attempt and it was probably a good lesson for them for the future, but the gesture felt too forced and hollow for it to actually make me feel any better. Still, I gave the two men an appreciative smile to encourage them to perhaps think a bit more next time they were in a similar situation, even if it didn't mean much to me in that exact moment. It did give me a little heart to think that maybe we were saving a girl or two in the future from feeling the same sinking disappointment.

Before the men could try to save face with some sort of explanation for their lackluster enthusiasm over my efforts at preparing for the date, the door opened next to them and the soldier from earlier in the day entered the inn with a friend in tow. They were both relatively handsome with dark hair cropped close to their heads in traditional military style with their faces freshly shaved. In fact, they looked to be wearing pretty much the same outfit of slate slacks and white button up, probably military issued, making the only truly unique features between them the fact that one of them had dark brown eyes and the other a brilliant green. Even their facial features seemed oddly similar.

“Hello ladies,” the original guard said with a smile. He even managed a glance in my direction with an introductory smile, which made me feel slightly better. “You asked me to bring someone, so I brought my little brother.”

The man next to him raised his hand in greeting and looked between Mable and I. He also made sure to give me my own separate greeting and nod of his head. I greatly preferred the two brothers and would have been fine kicking the first pair to the curb and just going out with the soldiers. I had a feeling that whatever Mable was planning required all four of them though. I only hoped the bed posts would be able to deal with that much punishment or she was going to be hit with an extra bill upon checkout.

“Who are they?” Bleu asked with alarm in his eyes.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for him, even if he had treated me like chopped liver. Obviously he was really smitten with Mable even though she was making it very clear that the feeling was not quite mutual the way he wanted it to be. Sure she had accepted his invitation to dinner, but in her defense, she had made it very clear that she had no intention of making their fling a very serious or permanent thing. Perhaps it was a little bit his fault for ignoring the obvious signals she was putting out or maybe I just was still feeling a bit slighted.

“The more the merrier, right?” Mable said with an enchanting smile. “This nice gentleman here offered to show us around sometime while we were out earlier and well I thought we might make a little bit of a party out of tonight. We are only in the city for a little while, we might as well live it up while we can.”

“Oh, I just thought…” Bleu trailed off and looked from Mable to the group of guys that had assembled and he let out a deep sigh. “I just thought we could have a little alone time together I guess.”

“Why be alone when you can have more fun with friends and good company?” she countered with a happy chirp.

Mable seemed painfully unaware of Bleu’s dejection, though I knew she was very aware and was just trying to push past the awkwardness of the situation. To be fair, she had made it very clear from the very moment he had asked for the date that she did not want to go on a date alone with him and had invited me along as a buffer. Though I suppose he had probably thought it would stop at just a double date and not end up with a whole entourage of men simpering after her.

“I’m up for a party,” the guard said cheerfully, “the name’s Denis by the way and my brother here is Freddy.”

Denis had been looking Bleu and his friend over with a smug smile on his face. I had to admit Both Denis and his brother looked well toned and tanned, probably from all the work the military had them doing outside all day. Bleu wasn’t badly built or anything, but it was obvious that he spent a majority of his time indoors. I supposed that all the years of being around people who exclusively lived outside in the sun had imprinted on me a slight preference for men who looked more outdoorsy.

“Oh and I’m Pete,” Bleu’s friend said, extending a hand towards the two soldiers.

They shook hands while Bleu looked miserable and did not offer his hand to anyone. “Should we just go then?” he muttered.

“We’re waiting on just one more,” Mable said.

“Another?” Bleu sighed. “Did you just go around the city today looking for people to invite?”

“This one’s for Rose,” she answered, tactfully ignoring his second question. “She got asked out on a date of her own.”

“Oh so I don’t get to be the double date?” Freddy asked. “That’s a shame.” He gave me a wink and a smile.

Normally that would have flipped my stomach over with butterflies, but instead I just felt very grateful that someone was paying me attention since I knew deep down to all four of the men in front of me I was very much playing second fiddle.

The door opened once more and Garret entered the inn. The butterflies fluttered to life in my stomach and my palms started to sweat as he looked around the inn, then locked eyes with me. His gaze was sultry and as it wandered down my body his eyebrows raised in intrigue and a pleased smile blossomed on his lips. It looked like he had also dressed up for the occasion with a pair of freshly pressed dark trousers and a crisply starched linen shirt in a pale pink hue. Under his arm he was carrying a brand new case which I assumed contained my tuned fiddle and new bow.

“Rose, you look absolutely lovely tonight. The most gorgeous rose in the garden and you probably smell just as sweet,” he purred in his deliciously intoxicating accent.

I couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped from my throat and it felt like all the blood in my body rushed to my cheeks. The room felt like the fire in the hearth had just roared to life and raised the temperature of ambient air a few degrees. It was a giddy, disconnected feeling that made me suddenly hyper aware that I had no idea what to do with my hands.

“I have your new case here with your fiddle and bow, would you mind if I accompanied you to put them away in your room before we leave for dinner? I would like to see your reaction to what I picked out for you to make sure you’re pleased with everything.”

“Of course,”I replied, then wet my lips because it seemed like all the moisture from my mouth had dried up, “follow me.”

“Gladly, I will really enjoy the view from behind you. I apologize if I end up walking slowly to savor it for as long as I can.”

“That is how you greet a woman, take notes,” Mable murmured to the group of her dates as I led Garret up to the room I was staying in.

Heart fluttering I desperately tried to remember if I had left anything embarrassing out when I last left the room. I had not thought of the scenario where he came back to the room so I hadn’t taken any care to think about the state I had left it in. Surely I did not own anything too embarrassing that I would have left out.

“Oh this is a lovely view,” he whispered to himself as we ascended the stairs.

I gasped, realizing that I had not put on anything under my dress and pressed my arms down to my sides to pull down on the edges of the hem. Though I had been all about positivity and openness about the naked body earlier that seemed to have been temporarily tossed out the window and I had become a meek and shy girl as soon as he had walked into the room.

“Don’t worry Rose, I didn’t quite mean that,” he said with a deep, rumbling laugh. “Though that does give me some interesting information I am enjoying rolling around in my head and imagining.”

With my face burning hot I quickly rushed up the rest of the steps and made my way to the room and opened the door. My eyes scanned the room and they set on the pile of sweaty clothes and undergarments I had left in a heap at the foot of the bed. I rushed forward and kicked them under the bed before he entered the room, effectively hiding them. I was not quite ready for him to feast his eyes on my undergarments just yet, silly as that would seem to the normal, level-headed Rose.

“You seem in a rush to get me into your room,” he said with a grin and softly closed the door behind him.

“Oh it’s not that it was… nevermind,” I said with an awkward laugh. “So you wanted to show me what you picked out?”

He set the new case on the bed and wiped his hand across it, feeling the texture of the russet leather under his palm, then gestured for me to do the same.

“Full grain deer leather, soft as a baby’s bottom, durable, and I made sure it was as waterproof as possible.”

It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, miles and miles better than what I had been using since I first got the fiddle. Running my hand over it revealed that it was indeed velvety soft. If I had to guess the value of the case was likely much more than the fiddle itself.

“A strong, durable case is almost more important than the instrument it protects,” he explained as if reading my thoughts. “A case is no good if it doesn’t protect the instrument from bumps and water damage. This one has a wooden core made of snakewood, very exotic, but one of the best woods out there if you want something to stand the test of time. The inside is durable woven wool from the highlands of my home kingdom and it is stuffed with soft goose down tightly so it cradles the instrument and bow to hug them securely into the case. You could probably go to the top of the highest turret of the castle and drop it and your fiddle would be fine.”

As he talked he opened the case, showing the dark navy woven fabric and pressing his thumb into a free space to show that the down was indeed packed so that it was firm but gave way under added pressure.

“The bow,” he started explaining while pulling it from the case and presenting it to me for inspection, “is a fine piece of pernambuco, a wood that comes from the same general region as snakewood. Highly prized for making superb bows with the best sound quality. Only a few of the branches grow each year that are deemed top quality and are auctioned off to the best bow makers in the world. I was lucky enough to come into such a piece last year and have been waiting for the perfect musician to bestow it upon. Coupled with fine white horsehair from a herd of mares from back in my village and you have a high quality bow that I hope you’ll never be able to outdo unless it’s me of course that manages to find a better combination.”

It did look beautiful, highly polished in a way that brought out the grain in the deeply red wood and looked as smooth as freshly churned cream in his hands. When I took it from him, it had the perfect heft and made me instantly excited to try it out. The new bow made my old one feel like I had been playing with a bit of scrap wood I had found next to a wood splitting pile.

“And my favorite part, the fiddle itself.” He pulled the fiddle gently from its resting place in the case and presented it before me. “I gave it a good clean and new set of strings. The ones you had on there were nearing the end of their lives and probably would have started breaking soon. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you had never changed them.”

“You would be correct,” I said with a small, nervous laugh.

“I thought so. I also did some fine tuning of the holes on the sides here for better sound quality. Nothing major to throw off the balance you’re used to while holding it, just sanded it down until the sound quality was a bit better. Then I gave it a good polish and a new coat of lacquer. Give it a go and tell me what you think.”

Puting the fiddle to my neck it still felt the same, but there was the smell of new polish and the fresh lacquer that made it a new experience. The bow felt a little heavier on the strings than I had been used to, but it felt right, like I had been playing a bit incorrectly this whole time. Maybe the saying that the instrument makes the musician was more true than I had been giving it credit for. As I drew the bow across the strings it let out such a sweet sound that it sent a shiver of satisfaction down my spine and the hairs on my neck rose up in pleasure. Playing typically made me feel happy, but this was something else entirely to experience.

“Sounds amazing in your hands,” he purred. “I know I said your performance would be back at the shop, but might you indulge me to play something now? I can’t just let an opportunity of a stunning girl all dressed up and ready to play a lovely tune for me just pass on by.”

There was no way I wasn’t going to play for him after all the generosity he had shown in what he had done for me. It was obvious both the case and bow were very expensive and the craftsmanship he had displayed on the fiddle’s refresh was evident. Besides, I was chomping at the bit now that I had a taste of the new sound quality to stretch the instrument to see its new abilities.

Drawing the bow across the strings again, I started into a common folk song I often played that was a sure crowd pleaser. It was a cute tune about a boy going to his first dance and seeing a pretty girl he wanted to impress where it ended with him getting tongue tied and wooing her with his smooth dance moves instead as he swept her across the floor. I never cared to sing since I was certain my singing voice sounded horrible, but it was the kind of song where I didn’t have to even try, everyone always jumped in to sing from the crowd since everyone knew the words. It was not a particularly complicated or sophisticated piece of music, but with the improvements the sound was like velvet to my ears and I felt like I would melt into a puddle of happiness with how much better I sounded. This was going to improve the money I made to an astronomical degree, this was a greater difference than night and day, this was… I let out a loud gasp as it felt like a wave of an entirely new sensation burst forth from within my chest, like flood waters finally breaking through the dam that had been holding it at bay. The sound which had been lovely and smooth suddenly took a deep, seductive tone as the new sensation rushed through my body to my hands, seeming to take over for me and it became effortless to play infinitely better than I ever had before. Was this… could this be what Mable had been trying to explain?

A deeply satisfied expression set into Garret’s face and he gave a knowing smile. “I thought so.”

I suddenly stopped, leaving the song unfinished and looked at my instrument and my hands with wonder. I had no clue how I had done any of that and I certainly didn’t recognize the feeling coursing through my veins.

“You just needed a little help getting the magical juices flowing. What you were using was beneath you, uninspiring to the muse inside of you. It was no wonder it was dormant and needed just a little coaxing to show itself to you,” he explained gently.

“You did this on purpose?” I whispered in amazement.

It felt like the room was slightly spinning around me and the colors of the world seemed a bit sharper and clearer. Even both of our voices sounded so much more melodic and lyrical, which was quite a feat since I was already enamored with his voice before this happened.

“I told you that you had the hands of a talented musician and I may have not explained that they were also the hands of an even more talented bard.”

“Is that what this is? Am I a bard now?”

“Yes Rose, you have unlocked your latent powers to match your beautiful talents. With some practice and exploration you would be a force to reckon with in both the musical world and beyond.”

“You planned for this to happen,” I accused with wonder in my voice.

The corner of his lips twitched and his smile turned into a grin. Even through my stunned reaction to having my magical abilities unlocked my knees still felt like jelly when he looked at me like that.

“I did, I admit it. I took it as both a bit of a challenge to my skills to match the musician with the perfect instrument and also a challenge to see if I could win your heart at the same time.”

I swallowed hard and carefully set the fiddle and bow into the cast with shaking hands. I needed a moment to think, to come up with what I wanted to say next, because I thought it might be a bit bold and maybe not quite socially acceptable to blurt out that he had definitely achieved both of his goals.