Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Kaleb approaches, stands as close to her as he dares. The woman turns the handle, lets the door swing open, revealing a bedroom—an enormous bedroom. It is as warm and welcoming as the hallway, the same styling and décor, with a large canopy bed dressed in browns and creams with subtle green detailing, bookended by nightstands each with a matching lamp. Across, there sits a desk next to a tall bookshelf, stocked with countless titles, the spines like rows of colorful teeth. In the center of the room is an artful circular rug, above which hangs a chandelier, shimmering and majestic, glowing with golden-brown light.
“Do you like it?”
Kaleb didn’t realize he limped into the room, standing at its center, awed by the scenery. He catches sight of a large painting of a forest on the wall, framed in gold. “Y-Yes,” he at last chokes out, then turns again. A wide door to the side leads to a bright bathroom—a large tub and sink with golden finishings, a shower enclosed by glass walls, a basket filled with fluffy towels in various shades of grey and cream. It is one thing for the bedroom itself to be nearly twenty times the size of his former cell, but for the bathroom to be large enough to house a family of four as well?
“You are in shock,” the woman observes.
Kaleb turns. “What is this room?”
“Your new living quarters, of course. Think of it like a kind and generous reward for your continued loyalty. You even have a new wardrobe.” She moves to a tall mahogany armoire Kaleb hadn’t seen, pulls open its door, and gestures at the collection of clean, stylish garments inside. “All yours.”
Kaleb stares at them, confused. He’s been hugging himself since he first came in, afraid to touch anything. “Mine …?”
“These can be adjusted if any do not fit you,” she explains, running a hand down the sleeve of what appears to be a dinner jacket. “I also would like to take this time to confess … there is an ulterior motive on my part in bringing you here.” Kaleb looks at her. She closes the armoire. “We’re in need of a new musician.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Really?”
“And word of your great talent has reached our ears. I need someone who is skilled with the violin, someone to entertain us when we need. And when we don’t need entertaining, well …” She spreads her hands at the room. “This is where you shall stay. You will have all the food you desire. Any accommodation you desire. Fresh clothes, cleaned and pressed. You are even allowed to leave your room and explore the House if you like.”
Kaleb’s wide eyes move to the door, which still lies open, showing the foyer and the grand wide hall outside.
“You are trusted now.” She lets out a rich and pleasing sort of laugh, sounding like tinny bells, melodic and cheery. “I’m so delighted by the look upon your face. It brings me such joy, to reward deserving humans like you.”
Kaleb isn’t sure how to react. Some part of him wonders if this is still part of a test. “Thank you … m-ma’am.”
“You can call me Ashara.”
“Thank you, Ashara.”
She nods at him, then makes her way to the door. “Well, I suppose you shall want to settle in … wash up, change …” She stops at the doorway to glance back at him over the shoulder of her lush green dress. “Actually, I have one last question for you. A simple question. Just to appease my curiosity. To seek a mere opinion of yours … from a mortal perspective, no consequence whatsoever for your answer …”
Kaleb’s eyes remain on her, waiting.
Her face tightens. “Are D-flat and C-sharp the same?”
He’s taken aback by the question. What a strange question, Kaleb thinks to himself. The notion takes his mind far away, at once distracting him from every ounce of tension in his body. In fact, thinking of an answer brings him a moment of relief, to focus on anything but his present circumstance. He remembers books he read in the library, a biography about Bach, and books of music theory and history. Reading them made him feel like he was the boy from his dream, the one who studied so hard.
“Well …” His answer comes softly, quietly. “I … guess it depends on what one considers ‘the same’. Is a half-empty cup the same as a half-full one?” He shrugs. “Maybe. But one still makes me feel happier than the other.”
When he brings his eyes back to Ashara, he is surprised to find her smiling.
The anxiety returns to him. “Is my answer … adequate …?”
She doesn’t respond for a brief moment. Then she lifts her eyes to the ceiling, as if pondering something pleasant, lets out a funny chuckle, then sweetly says, “A much better answer than was expected. A clever one. I like clever. Ah, you do so surprise me. I believe I understand now what it is Raya saw in you.”