Tamed by the Lycan Prince

21- PERFORMANCE

CHAPTER FOUR

-ANTONIO-

There was another pause before Kinnison began again, "Brother, we must not let the weight of expectation shackle our spirit. We are bound by duty, true, but we are also free men with our own passions and dreams." His words echoed through the garden, resonating with the soft rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze.

Antonio turned to look at him, his blue eyes meeting Kinnison under the silvery moonlight. A small smile played on his lips as he picked up his flute again. "Always so wise and noble, my brother," he said, his voice laced with sincere admiration and a touch of melancholy.

"Yet here I find myself," Kinnison confessed, with a sigh. "Staring at the moon and sharing in your music, wishing I could pour my heart out as you do." He paused as he looked back at Antonio, his expression softening under the gentle glow of the lunar light. "I am not without my own hopes and desires."

As the words left his lips, the soft rustle of silk broke their world of solitude. Both princes looked towards the sound and found Princess Alina standing at the entrance of the garden, her figure bathed in ethereal moonlight. Her golden curls glowed like a halo and her tender blue eyes shone with a thousand unspoken emotions.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she murmured, her eyes darting between the brothers. Her voice was soft, like the rustling of silk against stone. She took a step inside, letting the moonlight wash over her delicate features. Antonio's music had led her here, a beacon of raw emotion piercing through the night.

Antonio offered her a warm smile, lowering his flute. "You are not interrupting, Alina," he assured her. His gaze flickered to Kinnison, who was silently watching her.

"The party has begun, Antonio," Alina began tentatively. "It would mean the world to me if you could still bring your music to the court."

Antonio's eyes softened at her plea, and he noticed the subtle nervousness in the way she fiddled with the lace trim of her golden gown. "Of course, Alina," he said, his voice holding a trace of unexpected warmth. He gave her a reassuring smile before standing and dusting off his dark trousers.

Kinnison offered only a curt nod in response. Turning to Alina, he gestured towards the ornate garden gate leading back to the castle. "Lead the way, Princess," he said, his voice resuming its typically firm resonance. The ghost of a smile graced his lips as he glanced back at Antonio one last time before following behind Alina.

As they neared the grand hall, they could hear faint strains of laugher and conversation, merging in an intricate symphony with the distant tunes of lutes and harpsichords. The grandeur of the royal ballroom was bathed in a soft glow from the massive crystal chandeliers hanging from gilded arches, and the dazzling array of nobles from far and wide filled the room with an extraordinary vibrancy.

As Alina led them through the grand corridors and into the ballroom, Antonio spotted the grand piano at the far end of the room. It stood there, imposing and elegant, intricately carved from mahogany and ebony with accents of gold leaf in a sublime blend of artistry and craftsmanship. The sight of it provided a sudden surge of inspiration within him, a newfound resolve sparking in his sapphire eyes.

A hush fell over the crowd as Antonio approached the majestic instrument. He gave Alina a reassuring glance before sitting down on the plush bench. The velvety material was cool against his dark trousers as he positioned himself in front of the piano, resting his hands lightly on the polished keys. For a moment, he closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts and immersing himself in the serene silence that enveloped the room.

Then Antonio began to play.

The first note was soft, a mere whisper of sound that reverberated throughout the ballroom. It was soon followed by another, and another, each note flowing seamlessly into the next, like crystal clear water trickling over smooth stones. It was a melody that was both simplistic and yet complex at the same time, hauntingly beautiful in its melancholy undertones.

As the melody grew more intense, so did Antonio's playing. His fingers danced across the ivory keys, pressing and releasing them in a mesmerizing ballet of precision and dexterity. Each chord was crafted with the meticulous care of a master sculptor chiseling away at a block of marble, revealing the beauty that lay hidden within. His body swayed subtly with the cadence of his composition, each movement in harmony with the pulsating rhythm.

The room remained entranced, every eye fixated on Antonio as he wove a spellbinding tapestry of music that poured forth from his soul. It was a sonnet of longing and passion, each note a poignant word whispered on the wind. The shimmering chandeliers seemed to hum along, the dazzling crystals resonating with the rich symphony he conjured. The melody swelled, rising to a crescendo that filled every nook and corner of the grand ballroom. The spectators held onto their breaths, hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm, eyes glistening with unshed tears, enthralled by the raw emotion being unveiled through his music.

With each note that Antonio birthed into existence, a part of him was laid bare for all to experience. It wasn't just a performance - it was an intimate confession, a testament to his journey told through the universal language of music.

The final chord hung in the air, a resounding echo that stirred the silent room as Antonio let his hands fall away from the piano. His heart pounded in his chest, loud and clear as if it were part of the song he had just performed. The silence following the end of his piece felt palpable, as if a hush had fallen upon the world outside.

For long moments, no one stirred. Then, like a single drop causing ripples in an untouched pond, one person began to clap. The sound was soft at first, hesitant, but then it grew louder and stronger as more joined in. The clapping swelled into thunderous applause that seemed to shake the very foundations of the grand ballroom. It was as if a dam had been opened, and all the emotions that Antonio's performance had evoked could no longer be contained.

With a modest bow of gratitude, Antonio swept his gaze across the room. His eyes met those of his father, King Rasso. The King's face, often hardened by the callous nature of his royal duties, now bore an expression of unmasked pride. His eyes—sharp, regal blue embers—were softened, filled with warmth as he beheld his son, the virtuoso.

As Antonio descended from the stage, a multitude of young noble ladies, awestruck by his performance, moved toward him like celestial bodies drawn to the gravity of a wondrous star. They were garbed in gossamer gowns that shimmered with gemstones, their luminous faces framed with intricate coiffures adorned with precious pearls.

"Glorious! Simply magnificent," one gushed, her hazel eyes sparkling feverishly behind a mask adorned with peacock feathers.

"Truly, a performance for the ages," another chimed in, her voice a melodious blend of awe and admiration.

"Your music speaks of deep emotions," another commented, her voice an entrancing whisper as she extended a hand delicately gloved in maroon silk. "The melancholy, the passion... I've never heard anything quite like it."

"Yes, indeed. It is as if the Moon Goddess herself whispered the melody into your ear," another said, her emerald eyes shining with honest admiration and reverence.

The praise continued to pour forth as Antonio graciously accepted their compliments, bowing in gratitude. However, as the young ladies gathered around him, he felt a strange sense of detachment. Their beauty held no mystery for him, their charm no allure. The delicate patterns of the lace that adorned their gowns, the strands of pearls woven into their glossy hair, the sparkle in their eyes that revealed a mixture of awe and perhaps romantic interest - none caught his attention.

For amidst the bright-faced ladies and a sea of adoring eyes, his gaze was drawn elsewhere. To Antonio, they were merely stars in the expansive sky, while he sought the moon - his chosen mate. A mate he had never met, yet who filled his dreams with colors brighter than any gemstone and melodies more mesmerizing than any symphony.