33 The Court Musician (2)

I didn't know what to make of the melody, its underlying sentiments blurring into one as my own emotions tumbled into turmoil.

All I wanted was to succeed in my mission. Only then would it mean that my life was not meant to be solely a curse. But interlaced into the determination was uncertainty, and fear loomed at its very core.

And perhaps, at the very edge, nearly not in the scene, a secret space longed for freedom.

"What do you feel when you play this song?" I instead asked, masking my uncertainty by curling my lips upward into a pleasant smile and narrowing my eyes as if genuinely smiling. I took a step near him and placed one hand casually on his lute, slightly intruding his personal space to assert control and forcing him to look me in the eye.

His eyes turned a shade darker, the light inside them flicking dangerously. Although the rest of his face betrayed no alternate emotions, from the slight tilt backward in an attempt to restore our distance, he was obviously taken aback by my sudden switch in attitude. I'm not so easy to read after all, I scoffed internally.

Abruptly, he stood up, his face mere inches from mine, his warm breath spilling onto me. Up close, I could see that there were slight flecks of back in his tea-colored eyes, pools of darkness that added an intense allure.

At that exact moment, he smiled, both sides of his mouth turning upward into a perfect arc. It wasn't the egotistic smirk he had given moments before but rather a polite gesture that gave only vibes of good-naturedness.

My heart skipped a beat, but only one, before I regained my senses.

He must have been another pawn sent by the Prince of Jin to ruin me and my name. There was no way for him to deploy a soldier this time, so he must have searched for additional routes.

Yes, this must have been a trap from the very start. The maids being called away. The perfect first image. The Southern song. This was his sister's manor after all. Sneaking a court musician in and completing his plots would be no issue.

I immediately pulled back, but only then did I notice that the musician had simultaneously placed his hand over mine.

Calluses lined the back of his palm, rough in spots that could only be from a man who wielded a sword. And from my experience treating soldiers at the apothecary, he must have had extensive practice at that. These observations further fueled my suspicions, and I most forcefully tried to pull my hand out, glancing around to make sure that there were no maids to witness and report this "perfect" moment.

But instead of gently resting his hand over mine, he instead gripped it. My hands, being naturally small, were cupped entirely in his palms.

"You must be mistaken," I tried to convince him, flashing a harmless smile. "This is my hand and not your lute."

He looked at me innocently, his eyes wide as he pretended not to have understood my words, almost in the same manner that A'Wu frequently pouted.

"Let go," I commanded, channeling all the power to my voice while trying to maintain my cool.

"Does Your Highness wish to learn how to play the lute?" He asked, the warmth from his hand seeping through. A finger of his dared to reach to my wrist and gently stroke it, sending a thousand tingling ants down my spine.

"Let go," I repeated, glaring. "If my future husband finds out, he would surely have you beheaded."

Although, deep inside of me, a voice shouted that the Prince of Jin was probably the one plotting against me behind the scenes. If he had been fine with someone deflowering his future wife, a man stroking my hand would be the least of his issues.

"Oh, the Prince of Jin?" Hearing my words, he instead became bolder, repeating the same action. Only, if before, it was a gentle caress, this time, he made sure to extend the motion by dragging his finger along my skin ever slower. Along this path where his bare skin had met mine, a row of lightning seemed to zap me.

"I'll yell for people," I threatened falsely, knowing from our position that it appeared as if I was the one flirting. After all, from all points of view, I was the outsider in the Sui court, and there was no reason for a court musician to provoke a future Princess Consort.

"Sure," he plucked a string in boredom, not at all convinced of my actions, probably knowing that the situation would appear in his favor as well.

If this man truly was a pawn of the Prince of Jin, such was the perfect opportunity to send a message.

"Remember, I am the Prince of Jin's woman," I announced. Even if the prince did not take a fancy to me initially, I had to prove that I was not a useless Southern flower vase in order to gain his fancies. Liang needed his support.

Something changed in his expressions. I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but perhaps it was the slight parting of his lips or the light that flashed before his eyes?

"Help!" I feigned a scream, and he looked up, surprised that I would follow through with my words. I enjoyed the surprise that crept into his eyes, truthfully, a bit too much.

So he didn't want this to go too far either. Well, neither did I.

Using his moment of hesitation, I suddenly pulled my hand from underneath his and took a step backward.

I gasped in pain, holding my hand close to my chest. Unknowingly, in my attempt, the strings of the lute had made a cut across my palm. Although my experience told me to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, in the shock of the moment, all I could do was to hold the wound closer to me.

"Apply pressure," he reminded, all the whimsy and carelessness leaving his voice.

I winced as I did so, unable to think properly or to keep my emotions in full control, the pain taking over all of my senses.

Without a moment of hesitation, he ripped a strip of white from his robes and wrapped it over the wound.

Scarlet immediately seeped into the before-pure white fabric, painting a blooming blood red rose in its center that gradually spread to the edges.

When he tightened the knot, I couldn't help but let out another whimper, and his motions became more gentle as he added another layer to the soaked makeshift bandage.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he dipped his head, whispering more quietly. "I never meant to actually hurt you."

Was that actually a hint of guilt?