Silver: The Lost Royal

28 | Questions Without Answers

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Tibsil ~ tib-seel
Esorsi ~ e-sor-see
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SHE sat still when she had finished, silence replacing the chords the piano had belted under the command of her fingers.

What did this all mean? Before she could think further, a feeling clenched her. The tiny hairs on her arms rose, sparked by the gaze of someone who stood behind her. Her breath hitched. The presence was familiar, but why was Her Sense warning her about it? Would it be a sight that would terrify her or one that would ignite the same bloodthirstiness she had at the training facility?

She whipped around at the slightest sound to find Zack some feet away. Her hand went up to her chest before she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't want to... interrupt," he said and took a step closer. "May I?" he gestured to the bench she sat on and she nodded.

"That was a pleasant tune," he complimented as he settled beside her.

"It was the one Lady Minerva used to sing me to sleep... back at Wlerden."

At her words, Zack's head snapped to her with shock marring every inch of his face. "You remember?"

She looked at him with a furrow in her brows, trying to gauge his expression. Aside from the shock evident on his face, she could hear some undertones of hope and... fear.

"No. That's what she told me," she said and watched as his features sank back into the familiar stoic expression they usually held.

"She had sung it to me earlier, and I slept off thinking of how familiar it was. It wasn't until I saw the piano and remembered the very first tune I thought I had formed that I realized it was the same one."

"Oh," he said, and after a beat he asked, "So, does that mean you're remembering?"

She shrugged, her gaze flitting back to the keys, and her lips lost for words, having tried and failed to grapple with it herself.

"Do you know how Marcela's doing?"

"She's better. Turns out her healing powers are speeding up her recovery, which, Dr. Wesl says, is good."

Relief washed over her that in her unexplainable state, she hadn't done some lasting damage to the Emeraldine.

A warm contact on her jaw came before a soft pull that tilted her head sideways. She met his steady green eyes, glowing with a comforting heat she wanted to sink into. She observed as his eyes moved slightly, tracing invisible lines across her face, lingering on her lips before settling on her eyes.

"Were you... crying?" he asked.

Before the swarm of butterflies got loose, her mind pushed forward what had or had not transpired in her room after the ball and instead of leaning in, she pulled away from the warmth of his hands.

He confused her. One moment he was drawing her close, leaning in and the next he was pulling away, telling her not to complicate things. What were his intentions, his feelings-if he had any-towards her? What was holding him back?

She turned, meeting his eyes again. While hers held questions, his face, as usual, held no answers. Then all about him started crashing down on her, and the warnings Gema rang sounded in her head. The hope and fear she had seen in his eyes some moments ago added another question to the pile she had for him.

"Why did you leave Wlerden?"

The question was not what he expected as she saw a flicker of shock pass his face. He looked at the keys and released a deep breath, almost as if he knew it was coming.