The Dawn of Light

11

NOT only did Phédre awake to the beautiful and balmy sun's rays that could have blinded her, had she not squinted her eyes from them, but also to the sound of the serene music from a piano in the sitting room. And, oh, did it have a rich melody. Her head swayed to the side, feeling herself being carried away by the sound. Furrowing her eyebrows, she followed the music as though in a trance. Her eyes widened and her mouth agape upon realizing that the reason behind such heavenly music was the person she hadn't expected to have the talent to play such tender sounds.

"Good morrow, Phédre. Did you sleep well?" He asked in a very silky and delicate voice. She always found men more attractive when they had a deep and gentle voice. It gives the impression that they know how to speak to females. They rarely raise their voice, and if they do, it is never toward a female. At least, those were the types of men in Eotemel. Yesanith men used this calm voice to manipulate people. He did it so easily and walked over the broken pieces of her heart like they were dung droppings from a bird.

"Good morrow, Commander." He poked his chin with his tongue. Elrik.

What he would give to hear her say his name just once. Even in a whisper. He wanted very much to see the way her lips formed the letters of his name. "I slept quite well, thank you. Can the same be said for you?"

He smiled. This was good. This was progress. Polite conversation they could do.

"Yes." His fingers glided across the keys lightly while he watched her enter the kitchen and pop a blueberry in her mouth. A faint smile curved his lips when she closed her eyes to savour the taste and continued eating. He was glad she was enjoying them. "I went back home to pick some from the bushes. I got some seeds from a friend and planted them outside."

He wasn't one to seek validation or acceptance from anyone, let alone a female, but he found himself wanting—no needing—to hear she appreciated the thought. He needed something to prove that they are not opposite teams.

"They are lovely. Thank you." She turned to face him and nodded at the piano. "You–you play beautifully. I haven't heard anyone play so well in a long time."

"Would you like me to teach you something?" Her head shook no but her feet drew her closer to him, and before she knew it, she was sitting beside him. He gently held her hands and positioned her fingers over specific keys. Tingles spread through her body by his touch and increased her pulse rate.

"Play these. That's good. You're doing marvelous, Phédre." His breath hit her cheek, and she bit down on her lip. She looked at him from the corner of his eyes, her chest heaving by how close they were. She couldn't help the broad smile that spread across her faceat his complimentary praises. She didn't think or feel she was doing 'marvelous', but he did, so maybe she wasn't as bad as she thought.

He wasn't a god, but he could've been. His angular cheekbones carved down towards his basalt jaw and Spartan shoulders spoke of strength. He would normally reek of purpose and authority, but his demure expression made her feel relaxed. He was the kind of handsome who had you sacrificing everything you had, even your soul, to the gods with the assurance that having his attention was a reward in itself.

He guided her fingers along the keys and instructed her to play them repetitively while he played on the other side. The melody of the music finally dawned on her. Elrik, noticing her realization, raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. It was obvious from the signature notes being played.

"This reminds me of Lhoris Rojif. He was one of the greatest composers in history. With just one verse, he could make you drift off to wherever your imagination leads you. People say he made a deal with the Usubil sisters. Some even believed his music could impregnate women."