An Affinity For Fire

21. Tarragon

Tarragon figured his time would be better spent  finding information than riding. He'd headed for the library first thing in the morning and had spent several hours there, to some avail, but not much. Any books he'd found on basilisks had only told him things that either he already knew or weren't useful. He doubted, for instance, that knowing how many eggs a female tended to lay in their lifetime would be of any help.

With only half an hour until lunch, he decided to cut his losses and call it a day. He'd regroup with the others before investigating any further. And since Calio wanted to have them at lunch with her again, he figured it would be best if her smartened himself up, rather than arriving in the loose, beige shirt and brown trousers he'd thrown on when he woke up.

Tarragon's interactions with the young Queen Regent had been awkward at best. Clover seemed to get on with her best. Bet then, Clover had a bizarre charm that drew everyone in, so that came as no surprise. On the way back to his guestroom, he passed a room he'd only been in once, for afternoon tea with Calio and Kona the previous day. He wouldn't even have paused if it hadn't been for the fact that he remembered what was in the room. No-one had used it, but in the back corner there had been a piano.

Tarragon had rarely gone a day without playing at home. As much as he hated snooping, he couldn't help stopping and peering in. The room, to his relief, was empty. Glancing over his shoulder, he stepped in and wandered over to the piano. He ran a finger across the chipped, dust-coated keys. With one more nervous glance at the door, he pulled out the stool and took a seat.

After the first chord, he winced. The instrument was painfully out of tune. Nonetheless, he pressed on. He chose a lively piece, one of the first he'd learned, the one he picked every time someone asked him to play because it was the one he knew the best. despite the odd fuzzy or flat note, it was comforting to hear a sound from home in such an unfamiliar environment

"Not bad."

Tarragon's heart dropped, all the comfort he'd felt moments before twisting into dread at just two words. He whipped around to face the door, pulling his hands away from the keys as if they'd been struck.

Calio was watching him, face unreadable as ever. She had no shortage of smiles for Dallas, Kona or even Clover, but for everyone else, it seemed, her only expression was that impassive stare. She could have been amused or furious and he would have no way of knowing which it was.

"I'm so sorry, your Highness, I know I should have asked-"

"It's fine," she cut in, stalking over to him.

"I can play better than that-"

"I don't doubt that," she said. "That old thing hasn't been tuned in years. If you really want to play, there's another one in the entertainment hall that's much better. Come on." She beckoned with her head and sauntered off.

When she didn't turn around, Tarragon realised she was assuming he would just follow. He fumbled to his feet and trailed after her, once again finding himself unsure of the correct etiquette for informal interractions with royalty. Positioning himself to her side would have been assuming himself to be her equal, which seemed offencive. But then again, walking directly behind her, out of her eyeline, would appear suspicious and probably make her uncomfortable. And then there was the matter of how close he was allowed to be to a Queen. Was seven feet far enough? Surely. But that might seem like he didn't wish to be near her, which wasn't the impression he wanted to give.

By the time he realised he was severely overthinking something as simple as walking, they'd arrived.

The entertainment hall was on the lowest subterrestrial floor, carved out of the rock. When they arrived, Calio swung the heavy door open and strolled into the darkness within. Tarragon followed cautiously.

"It would probably be best if you didn't tell anyone I let you in here," Calio said, flicking a fingernail and using the flame in her hands to light the row of candles suspended from the wall. "Technically, not even I am supposed to use this piano without my mother's permission, but then, she is half-way across the realm. Take a seat."

She gestured towards the corner of the dimly lit room. Tarragon squinted as his eyes adjusted. The hall was colossal, with rows and rows of seats ascending towards the ceiling. Under the golden-red light of the candles, he saw what she was pointing at - a piano, black as obsidian and polished to within an inch of its life. The instrument's lifted lid towered above him, shimmering slightly, in spite of the darkness. He ran his fingers gently across the surfaces of the keys. No dust this time. Clearly, this instrument was much more vigilantly cared for.

The keyboard was larger than any he'd ever played before. Since most music wasn't written for anything bigger than the standard size, he knew the extra keys were probably there for no other reason than to make the instrument look more glamourous.

It worked.

He picked through the flimsy sheets of music on the stand, trying to contain his excitement. A subtle grin emerged on his lips as he spotted one specific piece.

"You've got The Dance of Dusk."

"Ah. You know it?"

"I played it at my grandmother's thirty-fifth anniversary a couple of years ago."

He slipped onto the stool, feeling Calio's eyes burning into him in anticipation.

With a deep breath, he began to play.

The piece was slow and smooth. He started quietly and let it grow to fill the dark hall. As the notes echoed proudly off the walls, he became so absorbed in the familiar melody that he almost forgot that there was a Queen in the room.

Until halfway through, when she silently perched at the right of his seat and pressed her fingertips to the keys.

His breath caught in his throat as she flawlessly picked up the melody. He moved his hands down the keyboard, continuing the bass an octave lower with his right hand and adding an ornamental harmony with his left.

He had often played a game with Marram when they were younger where they would try to spontaneously compose music together. Most of their creations were agonising to listen to, but it never mattered. It was just a game.

This was a far more dangerous game to play.

He struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he desperately came up with improvised material, interesting enough to impress her but simple enough that he wouldn't mess up, as he had so many times as a child. Marram may have laughed but he had a feeling the Queen Regent would be less amused.

But she didn't even seem to notice. She held the same neutral mask as always, watching her hands and the music sheet rather than him. He began to wonder if she would even notice him if he stopped playing altogether.

As the piece reached its end, their hands were almost touching. He noticed she was finally looking at him, her eyes starting at his hands and wandering up to his face. The two of them leaned slowly towards each other until they were only inches apart. He watched her lips part as she began to speak.

"Are you hungry?"

Tarragon sat back sharply, trying not to choke. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that.

"S- sorry, what?"

"Are you hungry?" she repeated, a little louder but in the same careless tone. If she noticed even a hint of the awkwardness he felt, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. "The kitchen staff will be finished with lunch soon. We should probably go."

She stood up to leave eyeing him in wait of a response.

"Er... Yes," he muttered. This woman radiated something but he couldn't put his finger on what. Arrogance was too strong a word, confidence too mild.

As he followed her to the door, she snapped her fingers,  killing every flame in the room. He felt like a sparrow in the face of a hurricane - terrified, and at the same time in complete awe at the incomprehensible power of the thing before him.

Power, that was it. She radiated power.