Look Beyond What You See

The Necklace

 Music swirls in the air, floating effortlessly from the instruments under my slender fingertips. My old friends--Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Mendelssohn, Bizet, Brahms, Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky, Vivaldi, and all the rest--are with me now, my escape from reality. These strangers who call themselves my family, without exception, appreciate my talent for the music it provides them but place little value on me. Whatever Kyla might be warning me of, I cannot help but be eager to leave this place and never look back. I'd rather leave like her than stay here like Zira and Norbert. Sometimes I think I cannot endure it another minute. Whenever I pause in playing I can hear them constantly bickering with each other, and hear Father with Delilah under the floorboards of the music room.

Despite such disturbances, my musical sanctuary here is the one thing I'd miss about this chateau if I had to leave it. I love the view outside the massive windows: the gently rolling fields studded with livestock and the occasional farmer. Trees beyond that, dark green and filled with the songs of countless birds and insects. Beyond that, barely visible, are the blue misty shapes of the mountains. Besides the view, all the instruments reside here, and the room itself is bright with shining wooden floors and white walls with subtle padding for better acoustics. Wispy white curtains frame the windows, giving the room a more whimsical feel. The only space I like more is my own sleeping quarters, which Grandmother let me decorate like a peasant's cottage against my parents' wishes. I've always preferred simpler things to the luxuries here. I envy the freedom of the farmers outside. But they do not speak to me when I go on walks outside, even when I speak to them. I feel they must have been instructed not to, else they are afraid of Grandmother. She is not always here, but I know rumours circulate that she is a witch.

I know for a fact that Grandmother is actually a sort of sorceress, though how she acquired that ability I know not. I've watched from hallways as she's flicked her fingers at a candle to light it, seen her turn common household objects into rats, which she sends to Zira's room. I suspect she is also responsible for the cockroach infestation that perpetually has my eldest sister screeching. It is no secret that Grandmother dislikes Zira as much as I do.

"Aerys! Please come downstairs. Your playing is lovely, but it is quite past midday, and your siblings have need of that room for lessons," my mother orders in that snotty, insincere tone that I hate. I know she doesn't like anyone, except Father. I wish she'd stop halfheartedly pretending to like me.

"As you wish," I reply after playing a particularly jarring chord to express my frustration at being interrupted. Nothing irritates me more than being stopped in the middle of a song. I rise from my seat and slip out of the room through a secret door in the wall paneling. I know Mother will not expect me to follow her. I generally reach the room she has in mind before she does, another of my unnerving habits which she would prefer that I grew out of. Unfortunately for her, I rather like to annoy her.

"Goodness, Aerys, how do you manage these things? I can't see how you got here before me, nor how you knew this was my destination," Mother gripes after being startled by my presence in her sunroom.

"Special talents you have graced me with, no doubt, Mama," I answer with only a hint of irony in my tone. I'd rather appease her and figure out what she wants of me before deciding to be outright subversive. She rolls her eyes, still displeased with my halfhearted groveling.

"Your father and I have a special birthday gift for you," she tells me, getting straight to the point as always. That brittle smile she wore at breakfast is back. Is she ever genuinely happy? She hands me a small box, perhaps twelve centimetres square. It looks suspiciously like the jewelry boxes Kyla showed me on her eighteenth birthday. My blood chills slightly, remembering the warning from her letter. Is there a connection between these gifts and arranged marriages? What awaits me at the banquet tonight? But my worries fall away as I remove the lid from the box and let it fall to the floor.