---

The keys began to ring once more. This time not of her own accord but of the one sitting next to her. In its own way, it certainly has. He regarded her following her hopes that his evening would be a fair one despite the lackluster interest in the cacophony of the high-end crowd on the eve of the wedding. She listened to the movements of the notes to which out of habit, her fingers would tap upon her lap, daring not to intervene his performance. The crescendo as the notes grew louder and the slowing ease. The climax build, and the con allegrezza to an otherwise darker tone. There was an enigmatic beauty to it.

It was then introductions finally surfaced. Aevor Redwald, and the pleasure is mine, Mrs. Andante. Her brows quirked slightly. A name she had yet to be familiarized with but now presented a title to the portrait before her. “Aevor Redwald.” she hummed as if to taste the name upon her own tongue for a moment. “Perhaps it is my ignorance of the nobles, but I am unfamiliar.” She admitted sheepishly.

“But it is a rather strong name, I think.” She idled with the music parchment. In truth she was worried how the evening would pan out. She had not heard wind of the bride nor the groom for that matter. Was it normal, she wondered? Perhaps they were being smothered by the crowd, cooing over their engagement. Recollecting her own, it was more of an elopement. A night she could never forget slipping under the radar of either of their parents and giggling like little school children. She and Christoph had danced in the pouring rain that evening without a care of the world surrounding them.

“Oh, you may call me Sonata if you prefer it.” She offered. It only seemed fair enough and the formalities were never to her liking though just as he did, she never did openly express it.

---

---

He was keenly aware of the missing timbre of Isabella's cello. While his brother didn't play any instruments, he had been a doting audience for them and their practice. This had been one of his favorites, and much like the woman at his side, his fingers had kept time with the aria. Sometimes, Julrik had asked them to play for him and his lady guests he would be courting, a private ensemble for them to dance to. While this tune had been among his requested set, it was primarily due to it catering to the duke-to-be. A slow waltz, that's what he would usually initiate with it, a thing that seemed to be catching on here as well. Despite his prior statement of weddings meant to be happy affairs, the ugly truth was that instances like these rarely developed into blissful endings. Forced engagement resulted in flames licking the petals of the roses. Death before beginning.

“Aevor Redwald.” She would repeat the name he had falsely gifted her with. While his past transgressions, and the ease in which he had settled in like silt in a stagnant pool ate away at him, this would fall short of that same cutting. While he had answered the majority, if not all of her inquiries, with utmost honesty, this was something he viewed as not only concealing his own identity, but sheltering her as well. Should anything happen that this night went poorly for he and his compatriot, he wouldn't want any questioning to fall back upon the innocent. The less they knew, the better. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “Perhaps it is my ignorance of the nobles, but I am unfamiliar.” At her bashful inflection, he would merely shake his head slightly. "It's no fault of your own, because I'm not a noble. I'm a soldier." The reminder would accompany a faint smile. Forcing the recollection of his somewhat recent conversation with the navy captain. What was it he worked towards? At that time, his answer had been, yes, duty - for what else was there for one like him? Monetary gain was not incentive for him, renown was also unappealing for motivation. He was just a soldier. "Just dressed in my Sunday best."

“But it is a rather strong name, I think.” He would nod his thanks as his fingers finally drew out the final notes, slipping from the ivory to rest upon his legs once again. Despite the exertion and damage done to recently repaired flesh, they felt lighter, easier to manipulate. Maybe it was just his own mentality, the subtleties in change that lingered behind this finely articulated disguise that he felt instead. It was a building feeling of resolution that had its anchors buried deeply within disgust. Beasts that devoured him finally resurfacing after decades of resting. It was this horrid hollow feeling that was left in the wake of their final feast. He relinquished a breath. It would be a long road to atonement: this course to being the brother he should have been. It would start with the rats. The vermin, and he would take it as far as he could.

“Oh, you may call me Sonata if you prefer it.” He would turn towards her, his body angled faintly upon the stool. "Of course you may call me Aevor, if it pleases you." He would offer as well, to this gentle and kind soul who had no clue the turmoil she had allowed to stir within him. He took a breath, then, a deep one, before he would release it as well. "I believe, however, that my hands will allow me to play no longer tonight." Then there was a slight apologetic lilt to his vocals. "I believe I'll take a walk, you're welcome to join me, if you wish."

---

It’s no fault of your own, because I’m not a noble. I’m a soldier. Silver-lilac brows would lift with mild surprise. A knot forming in the back of her throat that she would make such an assumption. Just dressed in my Sunday best. Sonata chuckled as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He did mention earlier that he held an occupation that left little room to build a family. “I should not have made such an assumption.” She admitted her fault in the conversation and her lacking the piecing two and two together previously.

Of course you may call me Aevor, if it pleases you. Came his offer. In return, Sonata offered him her amicable smile. It felt odd referring to him so casually should she decide to call him by name rather than addressing him as formally as she was more inclined to do. I believe, however, that my hands will allow me to play no longer tonight. She couldn’t help but agree as she felt the tiring strain of upon her fingers. With care, she collected them music sheets and neatly tucked them away in an organized folder. I believe I’ll take a walk, you’re welcome to join me, if you wish. Golden gaze would linger upon the bustling bodies and the background noise of boisterous banter. “If it is of no trouble to you, I may take you upon that offer.”

The idea of stepping away to stretch her legs sounded ideal. To get away from the haughty wealth sounded even better.

---

---

“I should not have made such an assumption.” The sound of her heart's drumming hymn increased, a nuance that he noted against his own will. The exertions from the prior engagements with Mithras straining him more than he presumed perhaps. Though there was no burn in the back of his throat, everything was just beginning to be so.... loud, pressing him further into the arms of discomfort. "Please, it is of no consequence." He hummed, soft, placating.

He would relinquish a soft sigh as he stood, his eyes easing closed if but for just a moment as he ran a hand through the pale strands of his short kept hair. He was unaccustomed to feeling warm, long having accepted the creeping chill of death's embrace. It, hand in hand with all those that whirled upon the dance floor would have his brow sweating. The joyous peeling of laughter and the general trill of too many conversation pressing against his ear drums also beleaguered him as well.

“If it is of no trouble to you, I may take you upon that offer.” He would dip his head in affirmation, offering her a hand that would aid in lifting her from the bench should she wish. Eyes would linger upon her actions as she very gently but hastily gathered the sheets of written music within the eaves of her folder. "I saw a greenhouse on the way up in the carriage," he would idly comment, "I'd like to try to find our way there, if that's alright with you, Mademoiselle."

---

Her cheeks would flush a rosy hue out of the humility that came to taunt her with ease following her brazen assumption. Assurance came with a placating hum tuned by Aveors vocals. Sonata tucked a straying strand of silver and lilac behind an ear as she would casually begin to collect the many prints of sheet music back together before tucking them neatly into the folder she brought them in. I saw a greenhouse on the way up in the carriage. Golden sunrise gaze would slowly flit back to the soldier to see an offered hand.

I’d like to try to find out way there, if that’s alright with you, Mademoiselle. Her amicable smile gentled as she in turn, allowed her palm to fall into his in receiving. “I do not see why not,” with his aide, did she find her footing with ease while her other clutched the sheets of music with generous care. “That sounds rather lovely, I think.” Her gaze would casually shift towards the boisterous background the clamored on. “Quieter too, I’d imagine.”

There was only so much she could tolerate in such frivolous and exhausting crowds before becoming too over-stimulated.

---

---

As her dulcet touch lit within his own, his thumb would briefly run the back of her hand, soothing without thought. He would aid her in rising and then duly parting with the the pianist's seat while she clutched tightly to her sheets of music. It was as if they had the power to protect her from the unruly clamor that surrounded them and sought to drown them in its incessant cacophony. In a way, he supposed they had for quite some time, but now he wondered what good they would do her when the keys of ivory from whence they drew their power were long faded from touch. “I do not see why not,” she obliged.

He knew at least the beginning, that much he was certain of in his brief excursion with the other vampire. There was an uncomfortable nostalgia here, a continuous thread that alluded to those days of his own mortality. It was not so different than those grand residences of Lavalles, but there was a warmth here that one would be hard pressed to find in the deigned provinces of the undead. There was life, hot blood and aether that could only co-exist with those who didn't have to force their pulse and breaths. This was the closest he could ever get to the warmth of the sun. A thought that made him unconsciously swallow. All this evening had done was remind him of the sweet bitterness of home. A place he could no longer reach. Home wasn't a place anymore, it was a time, and no matter where his footsteps took him, no amount of distance would allow him to trespass back the hands of the clock which marched forever onward.

“That sounds rather lovely, I think.” she would call him to the present, and if she did not withdraw, he would bring her grasp from his palm to the crook of his elbow. “Quieter too, I’d imagine.” He would nod, allowing a pent breath to exude his lips before the faint smile would find its way back, leading the way down the hall for the moment with steady steps. "My thoughts exactly, my lady." He wouldn't spare another glance over the hem of his shoulder, however. "It's becoming far too noisy here for my liking." The truth of the matter which he would spare her of.

---

It would have been a lie if Sonata would have rather stayed in the prestigious company of the upper-class, listening to them boast of their wealth or the petty gossips of the on-goings of political society. The nuns gossiping at the orphanage was exasperating enough. The musician did well in refraining from an immediate response as well as making a hasty effort to escape the luxurious walls. She wondered how those with title and name became so accustom to such luxuries when she feared that even the slightest touch or stray breath could shatter a stately statue. To wander the gardens sound far more enticing.

My thoughts exactly, my lady. Her hand gently linking with the bend of his arm; It’s becoming far too noisy here for my liking. A mirthful chime uttered from her vocals in a warming chuckle as she bobbed her head lightly in agreeance. “I could not agree more with you Sir Aevor.” Music sheets tucked in her other arm as she followed his lead. Walking through a crowd of moving bodies, that danced or wandered with aimless reason. As the crowds finally dwindled the closer they neared the greenhouse, Sonata too would finally relieve a weighted breath from her lungs.

“I can’t say I’ve stepped foot into such a place.” she hummed curiously. She then contemplated on whether or not her students would find excitement in adventuring through a place filled with nothing but different plants and herbs. She was no botanist herself, but it was a brief subject and the importance behind the basics at best. “It is much quieter though,” came the hint of relief in her tone.

---

His attention would drift over those that glided to and fro, that made their way towards the sides to rest and refill their glasses. Many of them radiated relief, some were well flushed with the consequences of their drinks their steps clumsy and uneven, their laughter loud and ringing. The place was becoming more and more boisterous by the moment, and he was becoming eager to depart it all together, hoping that Mithras had already made on to the other affairs he was curious over. He also hoped the silence between them promised that he had been successful in keeping him from tormenting Os's new friend as well.

The other option wasn't favorable.

“I could not agree more with you Sir Aevor.” The words were accompanied by her light trill of laughter. Her hand lit upon his arm and he would begin to guide them through the sway of the ballroom floor. The halls, while sufficiently lit, were a pleasant dimness in comparison to the bright and  noisy main room. The air was lighter, far less stuffy and alcohol perfumed. Guards were scattered here and there, posted outside of doors that the hosts didn't seem to want to have guests in for one reason or another.

“I can’t say I’ve stepped foot into such a place.” he would tilt his crown slightly at that. He knew his mother to gather herbs and plants in her lifetime. He recalled the plants hanging from the ceiling rafters in the arching rooms of the large open villa they had once lived in. Though it wasn't a green house, it served the same purpose. Between the planters and her large outdoor garden, he had always been surrounded by various species of flora, though to claim he knew what many of them did would be a lie. Even to say he could clearly picture what they looked like exactly or his matron's face would also be a falsehood. "I think the air is.... lighter. Better." He would comment idly. “It is much quieter though,” her comment was agreed upon with a nod as the hall opened up into the largely glass dome. His gaze turned skyward, a light grunt leaving him. "Good, clear glass they have." He wasn't sure why that should come as a surprise to him considering the other lavish detail they obviously spared no expense for. Perhaps it was from his long time spent in Dunmeath at this point, the poorer province with lower quality in comparison to Lavalles itself, as well as Odersten. "You can even see the stars from here."

---

Greenery replaced the haughty elegance of prestigious tapestries and marble columns. The aged perfume of mulled wine and hoppy bourbon was washed away by the light, inviting aromas of flowers and herbs. A stark contrast from busyness of the parading party within.  I think the air is… lighter. Better. Came Aevors musing to which Sonata hummed softly in agreement. It was less… stuffy, crowded as there were if hardly a few save for the occasional guard standing upon their designated post. The teacher could not help but cast an amicable smile in passing despite their otherwise statuesque forms. She could remember the tales vividly spilled by her late husbands tongue in his earlier years. He found such a task  monotonous and achingly boring in his youth. Though they all had to start somewhere, right? 

Good, clear glass they have. The knights voice broke her wandering thoughts back to the surface of reality as golden gaze would finally turn her attention to the infrastructure of the greenhouse and the very glass walls that which he spoke of. Sonata wondered if it was not a common design when it came to the foundation of such a structure?  You can even see the stars from here.  There was a slight twitch to her ears that almost mimicked that of a wolfs following their curiosity or awareness. “Oh,” came a breathless lilt. With care she unhooked her arm to free her grasp of his own taking one, two, three steps ahead. The very sheets of music that were tucked in her other arm drooped to her waistline, freed hand clasping the busied one. 

Golden gaze shifted towards the glowing light of the moon neither full nor new.  Not quite a crescent either. It was accompanied by the vast immeasurable amount of glittering specks that dazzled the navy canvas overhead. “It is rather lovely, I think.” She idled in turn. Her shoulders rising and falling following a lofty sigh. “Thank you Aevor.” She offered another one of her friendly smiles – those that which hardly ever seemed to leave her features despite even the most downtrodden of times. 

---

He drew in a deep breath, relishing in the fresh scent of greenery and soil in comparison to the oppressive and overwhelming chime of alcohol and the musk of a great variety of perfumes and powders. He would release the inhale with a lengthy sigh, allowing his eyes to slip closed for a moment. It had been quite awhile since he had attended or even been in such a grand place, and he was far from missing such a noisy and disruptive atmosphere. Most of his time of late had been spent either under this masquerade as he infiltrated the lands beyond Dunmeath or simply locked away within his study to put distance between himself and the noise of construction and other ruckus. His attention belonged to various tomes and the large map spread over the flat of his desk top. Even now his quills were wanting for his attention to fulfill invoices and answer the multitude of correspondences he had been quite frankly putting off for some time now. One bearing the royal seal still remained unopened within the dark mahogany drawer, though he knew all to well it was a summons to court. Another vexing trip preluding about his future.

Despite having a lofty view of his domain, the late lord of Dunmeath didn't have the means necessary to replicate the grandeur of the capitol. The windows were of a poorer quality, holding a cloudy, almost opaque view of the world outside. While it often helped in obscuring if he was in his office or not, it wasn't nearly satisfactory enough for star gazing - not like these panes. His weight would shift, leaning onto one of the planters as he stared up at the inky heavens. The pinpricks of illumination pranced gently alongside the moon, almost as if they too were playing and filled with music. The very same theatre that he once beheld in his homeland. Though he had never considered it beautiful in those times. It was an ill omen. It wasn't until long after he had left that isle that he had come to appreciate the constellations. “Oh,” the pianist would murmur, her grasp dropping from his arm and he would cast his stare towards her as her own ascended. The papers grasped tightly to her side would drift down as well in soft awe.

In Lavalles, the city never slept at night, and though the shroud dispersed to give the mages time to recuperate, the multitude of lights burned out those overhead. The crowded streets didn't provide any opportunity to watch the skies, even indoors. Along with a broader sense of privacy, that was another of the few perks of being currently positioned in his current station. “It is rather lovely, I think.” She sighed faintly, though it was lighter than previous. “Thank you Aevor.” She gave him another broad beam, a soft inclination that rarely seemed to be missing from the cherubic contours of her countenance. Fake or not, she made them appear all too genuine. Refreshing after the strict, flat lipped simpers of mere greeting fast to fade. Not that he even offered that most of the time. She was simply far too kind. "There's no need to thank me," he returned, the edges of his own mouth shifting upwards. His attention was swiftly stolen by another, however, a drawn call of a feline perking his focus. The cat would worm its way through a parted window, stretching languidly across the edge of the plant bed. "Oh, well, hello there." He cooed, lowering himself to be eye level with the cat as it came closer.