Chapter 11: Serenade - Hunger & Harmony

“I don’t know how! It just came undone!”

All it took was Ezren spotting my guilty face as I tried sneaking out of the kitchen. He’s now doubled over with laughter.

“You broke it?”

“I didn’t!” I whine defensively, holding up the detached spray nozzle. “It dislodged itself. Rudely.”

There’s a beat of silence as we solemnly stare at the hose that’s looking more like a limp noodle. I can’t help but snort at its sad state. Ezren almost falls over with laughter.

“It’s fine,” I say, my smile teetering on hysterical. “It’s symbolic. Like a metaphor for . . .I don’t know, my life right now.”

“You are cursed,” Ezren wheezes. “This is cursed.”

Maybe I am. My life is starting to feel that way. Even when I’m trying my best to do the right thing, just washing some dishes to help out, the kitchen sink of life just has to fall apart.

Getting to Velhollow was the easy part. Instead of a hotel, our lodging is a sprawling cabin on the outskirts of the city. Deciduous trees dot along the property, but the real feature is the cliff we’re tucked onto. Gray, turbulent waves crash onto rocks below, and even from the wraparound porch, you can see where the sea meets the stormy horizon. I’m a big fan of heights, but Selene already proclaimed that area off-limits.

I want to enjoy every bit of this. It’s a nice change of pace. Except each interaction with Niko is compounding, and this tightrope act is testing my balance.

His lingering eyes keep me spinning in his orbit. I’d give anything for his phantom touch to become real. I can’t dismiss the gentler side that has come out, either.

It’d be careless to ignore his willful deprivation, the pressure of his crown, and his hot and cold polarity, right? Maybe it’s all in my head. Am I naïve to think he’s seriously into me? Or to not think that?

This is too much thinking.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen catch my attention. My first instinct is to throw the nozzle into the sink. I hold my finger to my lips, desperate to get Ezren to stop giggling like a tattletale.

“Place your bets,” Ezren continues, clutching the island countertop to keep upright. “Will Selene or Lorelai kill you first?”

“It’s not like I was pulling on it roughly!”

“You’re not supposed to pull it without twisting it.” A voice floats from the entrance. “Always twist to the left first.”

“What? Who designs this stuff?” I whine before I hang my head.

“I can reattach it,” he says.

“Thanks, Cass,” I mumble, feeling beyond silly for this.

There’s a pause. My brows furrow. Then, I look up at him properly.

Cass. Not Cash, Cam, or whatever. His name is Cass. Why has that been so hard to remember? I peer at him standing in the arched entrance, trying to figure out that expression in the shadows of his hoodie. It’s not dissimilar to when he was spying on my phone, back on our way to Gravemont.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Ezren says.

Without responding, Cass disappears back into the hallway. I’m too busy being confused by the weight of such a tiny moment to stop him.

“Maybe you should relax,” Ezren says after the silence stretches. “We have until tomorrow night’s show to veg out.” He reaches forward to poke me square on my forehead. “I think you and your cursed life really need it.”

“Yeah . . .” I say, fighting off more pouting.

“Try not to let His Majesty’s burdens become your own, okay?”

I peer up at him. Ezren only smiles back. He always seems to know more than I think.

“I don’t . . .He’s not, like . . .I’m not⁠—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand and a widening grin. “Get going.”

I reluctantly shuffle forward.

“Okay, but . . . let me know if you need me.”

“Roger that,” he says with a salute.

I weakly smile back before finally leaving. All this thinking is going to fry my brain.

My feet drag through the cozy hallway, not able to appreciate any of the fall-scented candles lit in every corner. I pass by a crackling fireplace and through stained-glass doors to head outside.

The wooden steps take me to the ground. This sprawling backyard forest feels more cozy than unnerving. I pass by a dormant fountain amid flowerbeds that must be so pretty in spring.

Nighttime feels freer here. Peaceful, with only the distant sounds of crashing waves cutting through chilly air.

It was a nice surprise to have my own little cabin in the backyard, even if I can’t see the cliff’s view from it. Gently lit lamps chase away the dark on the stone path leading up to it. I stuff my hands into my coat, both for warmth and to secure my key.

My mood lifts with every leaf crunched under my boots. Huh. It’s not only satisfying, but distracting, too. By the time I’m at my front door, I consider staying out here a little longer. Even with the clouds threatening a cold drizzle.

Just as the last of my worries fades, the very center of it all cuts right through my peace.

I stop short when I hear Niko’s voice from around the corner of my cabin. Not only his, but also Selene’s. What’re they doing back there?

“It’s sad that you listen to the Archduchess more than us.”

My eyes widen. I make absolutely no movement.

“You know that’s not true,” he responds.

Their voices are hushed, but the October air is so still that it almost amplifies their conversation.

“Then listen!”

Her exasperation echoes through the yard. I hold my breath.

“You know what happens when you push yourself like this. It’s not just your voice, Niklaus, it’s everything.”

I wince. Not just at her outburst, but that he denies nothing. They talk as equals, not as king and advisor. And I, more a jester than anything else, shouldn’t be here. Guilt gnaws at me as I remain in place, but not just because they’d hear me. It’s not fear that tethers me to the porch.

“She doesn’t know,” Selene continues, voice ragged with worry. “She hasn’t the slightest clue what she does to you. And you’re willing to bet on her indifference if you fall apart first?”

My silent breath crystallizes in the air. I’m not sure my heart could beat harder.

“She’s never been indifferent,” he whispers, words almost lost to the distant ocean.

“Nourish yourself, then,” she urges. “Not just when your aunt forces an ultimatum. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for us. For her.”

Her?

The silence shifts. I swear, there’s a murmured curse before the crunch of leaves grows closer. I press myself against the front door and squeeze my eyes shut, wishing on every hidden star that they won’t catch me.

“Remember,” Selene suddenly says, and I tense. She sounds just a few strides away. “Tomorrow is different, but you know how the residents of Velhollow are. The night is yours.”

With that, she storms away. I haven’t even heard the back door of the main cabin close before Niko makes his move.

Something cold slices under my ribs when he stalks past. Like a guitar string snapping in my chest.

It leaves me breathless and clutching my heart. I swiftly turn from my door, acting without even thinking, following without rationality. I only have fragments of what’s going on. I don’t care anymore whether I do or not.

He’s hurting, and I refuse to let him suffer alone. Even if I can’t name it, I can feel how bone-deep his burdens sink. I hurry into the darkness after him.

Shadows envelop his form as he ventures deeper into the woods. He’s damn near invisible, especially wearing all black. While I want to call out, I keep my mouth shut. Surely he knows I’m following. Not that he’s stopped me. While it’s difficult to see him between the dense, gnarled trees, I follow the rustle of his footsteps and the string of wrong notes trailing behind him.

I break through the trees, turning to see him leaving the clearing to follow a dirt road. I continue to hang back, even when the grass turns to dirt under my boots.

Up ahead, a small town glows. If it could even qualify as a town. More like a single strip of buildings, including a two-pump gas station.

Dirt becomes brown brick. There’s nothing modern about this place, from the pristine gas lamps to the aged signage on the buildings. A bank, a post office, and even a quaint bookshop are decorated for Halloween and lit like they’re still open at this hour. It’s like stepping back in time, if different eras were smashed into one street.

Just as Niko crosses into the gas station’s lot, he stops under a flickering light. I halt in the shadows, not surprised when he addresses me.

“Are you not afraid?”

“Of you?” I laugh shortly. “Never.”

He turns, deliberately slow. Like he’s giving himself time to think of the right response.

“No one’s around.”

I don’t have to look into the bright gas station or even down the street to confirm. Because, despite the lights and displays, this whole street is vacant.

“I’ve noticed.”

Confusion passes over his features. He’s quick to correct his face to a more neutral expression.

“The people of Velhollow worship vampires,” he says. “Locals always respect the night when we’re in town.”

“They give you privacy and go home?” I ask, and he nods.

“There’s no one here.”

Maybe that should concern me. It does the opposite.

“Having the entire place to yourself sounds cool!”

A frown is his only response. I purse my lips awkwardly when I realize just how much I’m intruding.

“But, uh . . .I’m here.”

“You—”

“No, no, Your Majesty!” I say, holding my hands up. “You can tell me if you want me to go back. I’ll leave without a fuss, I promise!”

His lips press into a line. My hands start waving around as I try to assure him.

“You don’t have to talk! You don’t have to do anything, I . . .I just . . .”

My voice quiets, and my hands drop back to my sides.

“I just didn’t want you to be alone.”

Holy crap. My face is red. I’m on fire, despite the freezing temperature, and I can’t look him in the eye any longer. Wow, way to make him feel better. I suck in a breath before I promptly turn around.

“W-Well, anyway, have a nice night⁠—”

“Cadence.”

I freeze.

“You don’t know the way back. And it’s too cold,” he says. “HR, remember?”

It’s not as lighthearted as the first time he said that. Still, I turn back to see his gaze softened. He motions for me to follow, and I hurry to catch up to his side as he strides down the road.

He's letting me stay.

I let silence fill the space between us, even if I really, really want to say something. Anything. Like making note of the occasional drops that begin to kiss my face. Or how we’re moving away from the livelier part of the street into a more rundown area. Even the lamps are snuffed out over here. I draw closer to him, mostly because my eyes are still adjusting.

When they finally do, a gasp is pulled from my throat.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The ghost of a grand theatre stands before us. While indistinguishable, faded letters hang off the worn marquee, and the banners are peeling, I immediately recognize what once was. Despite its aging, the building remains beautiful in obscurity. Haunting. There’s nothing broken either, and only a few piles of leaves gather at the entrance Niko leads us to.

“You know this place?” I ask as he opens the doors with ease.

“Not at its prime.” He gently closes us inside. “I’ve never seen it open.”

A flutter of wings sounds from the rafters as we disturb the quiet. Birds must make this place their home. At least they get to enjoy it; the interior is just as stunning in spite of the dust and peeling wallpaper.

“Why, then?”

He hums as we wander along carpeted floors. Some parts are spongy under my boots, like the floorboards are water-damaged. It’s too dim to capture many details, but flashes of neglected opulence tell a clear story. I can picture the ladies and gentlemen in their best outfits here, sipping champagne while lining up for the finest entertainment.

“I think I understand this place,” he answers, his voice as soft as his hands pressing open another set of doors.

The groan of old timber sounds as the auditorium is unveiled. Niko stops for a moment, messing with something near the doors as I peer around. From what I can make out, there are rows and rows of velvet seats all facing the main stage.

A hiss sounds, and I see he lit a match when it’s introduced to a gas lantern. It brightens the room enough to see the aisle we walk down. The layers of dust and the torn grand drapes, too.

“I understand being a shell of former glory,” he continues as we approach the stage.

My eyes fix on his face. He isn’t lying. Not being dramatic, either. As he sets the lantern down and dusts off two of the front row seats, it’s almost natural. An air of peace surrounds him once he settles into the aisle seat, like he truly is in good company.

As I sink into the chair next to him, I understand better. The echoes of applause and lingering emptiness between these silent walls.

“You don’t think you’re glorious now?” I ask, staring up at the stage.

“Do you?”

I glance at him again.

“How could I not? You’re literally the dictionary definition.”

“But do you think so? No dictionary or tabloids to tell you.”

It doesn’t take me even a second to answer.

“Yes.” I’m earnest as I meet his searching gaze creased under strong brows. “No one can tell me how to feel.” I reach over to poke his arm. “No one can tell you that either.”

I never imagined this would be how I’d see his first smile. A genuine, soft, gorgeous smile. He looks so handsome. So hopeful, too.

“I wish I could live like that,” he says, and when his smile doesn’t fade, I believe him.

“Maybe I can teach you,” I respond lightheartedly. “I mean, no one can tell me what to do. I literally defied my own parents to get here . . .”

“Ez told me,” he says, and the sheepish blush returns. “Something about forging resumes and taking a job out of town.”

“Oh, god.” I put my head in my hands. “That was such a bad look.”

“But the truth,” he says, and I laugh.

“It is,” I say, my fingers fidgeting as I mumble. “I was willing to do anything for music. For . . .normalcy.”

He leans in, and I catch his own hands twitch for a moment. A large part of me wishes he’d take mine in his.

“Care to explain?” he asks, but I’m finding it hard to trust the eager inflection.

“You don’t actually want my life story!”

“We have all night,” he shoots back.

The stale air lightens with laughter. Even the lamp seems to glow brighter.

“Okay, fair enough. But I’ll warn you now, I like to talk.”

“I like to listen.”

I could bask in his smile all night and day.

We settle further into the seats, his attention solely on me. I soak up every second of it.

“To be honest, there’s a lot. For starters, my parents are the strictest. No music this, no music that.”

“No music?” he echoes, expression twisted in actual surprise.

“Never,” I say, nodding when his confusion deepens. “I’m not kidding. Everything was banned, even humming!” I let out a sigh. “They were always so happy that I’m musically inept. Can’t sing, can’t keep rhythm or dance, and instruments literally quake at my name.”

That earns a brief chuckle.

“You can’t be that bad.”

“I am.” I shrug. “It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. Really, it’s more fun to enjoy it as a listener.”

“Hm . . .I can’t remember the last time I listened to a song for fun.”

“What? Wow,” I say, and he gestures for me to continue. “Well, anyway, my best . . .”

A series of vibrations from my back pocket cut me off.

“Hold on,” I say, and he remains quiet as I pull out my phone.

Wait, Viola texting me at this hour?

Lala

Are you okay? You haven’t said anything in days.

I'm just saying what’s best for you. It’s not my fault you can’t see that.

Don’t be reckless.

I stare at it longer than I should. The plain wall of messages. No emojis or cute nicknames. No warmth.

“Cadence?”

When I glance up, Niko is obscured by my misty eyes. A few tears slip, and I quickly rub them away with my sleeve. Wow. I can’t believe I’m crying when it’s him who needs comfort. I’ve never been more ashamed to be a crybaby.

“Sorry, uh . . .” I put my phone back. “What was I saying?”

He looks like he wants to acknowledge the shift in my mood, his stare lingering on my tear-stained cheeks. I’m relieved he chooses not to.

“Your best . . . something?”

My best friend. The one I feel like I’m losing with each day on the job. I know she’d sneer at me for where I am. Alone, in an abandoned theatre, with the king of vampires.

But the one reaching out to me as my chest aches is him. It’s Niko who frowns in concern and waits patiently as I collect myself. It’s him who feels safe to cling onto.

“Well, I met this girl as a freshman in college. A music major. My parents honestly trust her more than me, so they didn’t suspect anything when she got her counselor to sign off on this ‘internship’ in Sunveil.”

Another tear rolls down to my smile.

“This is the first time I’ve been able to just . . .live. I can listen to music, travel around Aurea, and be normal.” I point at him with a giggle and a sniffle. “So, yes, Niklaus Vane. You are very cool to me. The most glorious.”

That gets him to smile again. Even though he’s looking at me, he starts to feel further away. I fight the urge to put my hands on his.

“That means more than you might believe,” he says, voice as quiet as the air. I can hear the rain’s gentle rhythm on the rooftop. “It reminds me of when I sang for love, not power.”

I sniffle and scoot closer. My clothed arm presses against his.

“I told you some of my story, so tell me a bit of yours.”

The very thought seems to pain him. After a moment of consideration, he relaxes back again. He takes just a moment to gather his thoughts.

“My mother was a bard. Born to a respected but powerless family. To her, titles meant nothing next to character. Not that the Court or any high-bloods uphold such views.”

“Was she happy that you sing so well?” I ask, and he nods, eyes full of firelight as they linger on the empty stage.

“Mm. Not every pureblood has such potent siren magic.”

“Siren?” I echo, and he chuckles.

“Ah, of course a human doesn’t . . .” He shrugs. “It's ancient history, but vampires were born of High Fae and sirens.”

My eyes widen, almost popping right out of my head.

“Really? Fae and sirens?”

While I remember Ezren mentioning sirens, I didn’t take it literally. Because there’s no way. Vampires can’t get more fascinating.

“I tell no lies. The ocean-bound grew jealous of High Fae’s freedom on land. As it was, a rogue prince attempted to lure fae to steal their form and obtain legs. What he didn’t count on was falling in love.”

“How romantic,” I breathe, absolutely stunned.

“Truly, given the brutal nature of sirens.”

That explains the songs, then. The hunger. The pull.

“Huh . . .So much goes on that humans know nothing about.” I glance at him. “So, you’re, like, the culmination of all this power . . .But you want to sing for love?”

“It’s naïve,” he says, shaking his head dismissively. “Childish.”

I won’t dismiss it.

“But . . .?”

Sadness tinges his smile.

“I do long for . . .” He clears his throat. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember, even with the crowds. What it’s all about.”

“Don’t do it for the crowds,” I say, pointing at him playfully. “You don’t have to be powerful. You just have to be you.”

“That’s not⁠—”

“It won’t be true if you don’t believe it,” I say, not caring that I cut him off. “Maybe I don’t know the pressure of a kingdom and a court, but I know enough about audacity.”

“Audacity?”

Another laugh brightens the room, far more than any fire. I nod.

“Just believe it, and it’ll happen.” I nudge his arm with mine. “Believe you’re singing for love again, and suddenly, you’re back on track!”

He stares at me. Like he’s seeing me differently. Like my words aren’t entirely lost on him.

“Hm . . .Audacity . . .” His grin widens. “Like you following me here. Does ‘self-preservation’ exist in your world?”

“What’s that? Can I eat it?” I tease with another giggle.

That brings me back to the argument I overheard. I don’t need to remind him, though. Selene said enough, and better than anything I could.

Instead, our playfulness brings us closer. We linger, even just a heartbeat too long, over the armrest, and his gaze falls to my lips. I lick them instinctively, my oxygen suspended. He doesn’t kiss me. I can’t work up the courage either. Even if the space between us feels like it knows we both want to.

Like this, I don’t mind. Being a slice of joy, a bit of an escape. Maybe I am the king’s jester. My eyes linger on his relaxed smile, and the warmth in my heart grows.

Yeah. Maybe I am.