She lifted the black violin up and tucked it under her chin, with its golden strings and its gold-strung bow. She felt every inhuman eye upon her as she tuned the instrument, her heart racing as her leg began to throb as timely as a maestro raising his wand.
The red cloak lay nestled like eiderdown around her shoulders and her black braid with the glass snowdrop displayed, for luck from Liv, across her chest. The walnut shell hung from its golden thread around her neck.
Her left leg throbbed, harder. It needed either magic or medicine tonight.
Magic would have to do.
She frantically scanned the audience and found that one familiar pair of eyes. She allowed herself to relax just a bit, even smile. Sam'hael.
He met her gaze and smiled at her in encouragement.
He felt her pain and made a swift motion that only the two of them could discern: a kiss to take the pain away.
Bria Jacobs smiled and drew a deep breath, raising her bow. Her audience hushed.
And she drew the first note across her gilded strings.