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Quietly, the sun crept up over the horizon of a wide city carved in brick buildings with veins of cobbled streets. Even at the earliest hours, there were carriages and people fluttering about, but the crowds were denser than one might expect, and the buzz was growing louder as well. There was talk in the theatrical districts of the city, talk in the places where the rich dwelled beneath the clock towers. A strange occurrence had happened the previous night, and no one was quite sure what to make of it. Invitations had found their way to the patrons of music. Those who attended often, those who paid handsomely for concerts, and even those that made the stage and instruments. The invitations called for all who were interested to attend a recital free of charge asking that they only give the mysterious musician a chance. Varren Castille was his name, but no one knew who that was. People did not find the invitations to be strange, did not find the prospect of a mysterious concert to be strange either, but not a single soul knew who this person was. No one had heard of him, and all who were involved seemed confused. The public postal service did not deliver the letters either, but no company made a claim to such a thing when in the past it could be seen as a mark of pride. Most believed that all the details would come to light eventually. For now, the ongoing mystery drove further interest in the recital as the deeper one dug, the more questions they found. The music hall that was selected as the location became alight with attention and scrutiny from all sources, and it furthered the mystery as the proprietor and owner of the building had stated that they had not met the performer. More than just that as well, the owner of the old building had no idea who or what company had repaired the building in just under a night. What had once been a crumbling investment of chipped stone, brick, and wood falling in on itself bought cheaply; was now a building that dwarfed the ones next to it with grandeur and splendor alike. When curiosity brought men and women to the building early, they found the interior to be just as repaired. Hardwood floors polished to a sheen leading from a lobby area in the foyer to grand doors that opened wide to a rounded amphitheater. They found no one in the music hall and found no one on stage save for a letter wrapped neatly in a black envelope just as the invitations had been, and it simply read.

“Be patient."

So patient they had to be, but it just teased so much to be told that didn't it? And Varren Castille knew better than most how to make a mental snare and snap it tight when all were in the right place. A sudden change and passion had been given to the man who was now Varren. He had once been a simple extra in an orchestra meant to play dull and singular tones that drowned out in a sea of others, but his heart had awakened in a way that he would never have dreamed of before. His heart had been touched by the grace of some sort of divinity, or some sort of abnormality, and everything changed. What magic had existed in this world had mostly died out and was left to those who mostly touched it as a means of historical preservation, but yes, he could call this corruption and ascension of himself magic. Technology had taken most of the need for magic away, but a desire to break away from the patrons that had given humanity magic in the first place as well. Either way, he didn't feel like he was being touched by a god and didn't feel like the changes were because of that either, but still he thanked whatever presence that shifted inside of him despite the fact that everything was so different now. His body had changed, his eyes had changed, and his entire perspective on the world had changed and what he wanted to do. He didn't know whether the present festering inside of him wanted to enact some horrid ruination on the world, but it teased the passion out of him and fused with him in order to enact that passion. A grand recital of his own making. His fingers brought forth the sounds of a piano vibrating out into the halls for all to be mystified by. Whoever he had been did not matter, what mattered now was that Varren Castille would make his debut on the night of the full moon. Not for any mystical purpose, of course, mostly because it added that extra bit of mystery. Who could resist such temptation?

Apparently, only a few could resist, and those that had stayed away simply had other obligations that served as excuses. The crowds wandered in on a chilly night wearing coats of black and dresses with sleeves. Spots of color could be seen among the crowd where a few more vibrant guests showed off, and of course, the noble families flew their own colors. Not all of the noble houses were patrons of the arts, but the ones that were showed up in full with all their scions in tow. There were workers in the lobby ushering people in, workers that had been paid in advance and knew just as much as the crowd did about what was happening. The people flowed into the amphitheater at a steady pace until every seat was filled. Even the booths hanging above the common seats were full of the nobility, and guild representatives. A grand piano sat on the stage where it had once not been there before, all eyes in the room focused on that one spot drowning in light. The general buzz of people gathered together and whispering continued on and on, and even seemed to grow a bit more intense as folk wondered if this had been some elaborate prank. Surely no one would go to all this trouble just for a laugh? And indeed, Varren did not want laughs from the crowd.

All the lights in the amphitheater clamped shut save for the one shining a singular circle around the piano. There stepped the man of the evening himself, Varren Castille. He wore a simple tailcoat that appeared a bit longer than normal, and his hair was curled dark brown with kisses of white trailing down and around a ribbon that tied the rest into a tail. When he turned to the people of the world, he opened his arms outward as if to embrace them, and little murmurs began to rise in response. His eyes were violet, and his skin seemed odd. Dusky with hues like the night on them. His form was strong, and yet seemed to hold something soft in the way that he moved, in the way that he fit into his clothing. No one could be too certain of him while he stood on the stage while all of them remained in the dark. Instead of folding one arm and stepping back to bow, he brought both of them inward in a languid motion to complete the embrace before inclining his body. There were whispered questions, concerns rising as talk of a magic-touched individual began to pour through the audience. It was a rarity to see a mutation of humanity, rarer to see magic in any form outside of a scholastic or historical context and most weren't sure what to make of it. That being said, all of them seemed to hush again as he stood up and planted a heel hard enough against the stage floor to send an echo through the hall. He turned on that heel and placed a finger over the black surface of the piano, feeling the material as if they were lovers before he moved the grace of his fingers to the keys. He touched a note and tapped, gently, lovingly, and did so a few times. These singular notes held a gravity that seemed to suck the air from the amphitheater. All in attendance, guests and workers, looked on in curious awe as Varren took his seat and began the performance.

The sounds of the piano rose into the air and cascaded over the crowds. Varren started with a gentle flow, something like the testing of the notes to see if everything was perfectly well. He wanted to keep the mood of their eyes, to keep the feeling of them watching him with such morbid curiosity, and yet, he could feel something more as well. There were those that were watching him with genuine interest, a set of wide eyes out into the noble booths in particular that caught his attention. All at once he slammed his fingers down on a dissonant chord causing most in the audience to jump, except those inquisitive eyes. A heartbeat echoing longing, a hushed breath belonging to someone who wanted to know and feel more. Should they come to him, he would be glad to give them what they wanted, but for now, he had a performance to conduct.

The tones began to rise from quite little sounds that soon began as a basic melody and waltz, but broke apart into something more as his fingers began to dance over the keys. The attendees leaned in their seats and watched wide-eyed, the owner of the theater in his own personal booth above it all watching with gemstones glowing in his eyes. Each note seemed to drag the crowd further into the thrall of the pianist on stage, and all in attendance gasped as the change occurred. They could see the faint outlines of a set of extra arms on the man's sides leaning in to join with the others, and the notes doubled and tripled as he began to play faster. What had once been a gentle waltz was now a raging storm of strong notes stopped on occasion by the loving eye of that storm.

It felt like the audience had only taken a few breaths, but time had rolled on as the performance strung through a set of songs with all eyes on him. Varren's fingers hit the final few notes on his performance, and he remained seated for a while with his fingers on the notes as the ghostly appendages on his back faded away. Slowly, he got up and turned to the crowd. He raised his hands with a big smile and found that all of them were transfixed on him. They couldn't decide whether to clap or not, or…no. That wasn't it. They were entirely in a trance of his making, drowning in the vibrations of the music they had just heard. Despite himself, he laughed and took a step toward the edge of the stage before clapping his hands together and bowing deeply.

At that, the crowd seemed to break out of their trance. They looked at each other for a moment and looked toward the man with their eyes still glowing dimly before they all began to cheer as they registered what had just happened. However, there had been something of note. Those eyes full of desire and curiosity that had been watching him from the beginning in the booth belonged to an individual who had started the cheering early. They had also been transfixed, but not by mystery, by something else? Ah, there was far too much noise to taste it properly, but as he closed his eyes he could pluck it from the rest of the weave of emotions pouring over him. Longing. Oh yes, there was longing somewhere in there. The longing wasn't fully pointed at him, but there were touches of it dancing along his person. He could not help but stretch a hand out toward that longing, could not help but bring his fingers out as if beckoning to whoever had done so. At the same time, he caught a flower that had been thrown on stage and brought it to his face, both to mask his smile and to take in the scent of lovely gardenia. He trailed behind the stage, behind velvet curtains, and the light on his piano shut off, and the lights of the amphitheater flicked on one by one. And here he would wait, breathing in the sweetness of the crowd buzzing to one another, and honing in on that longing that seemed to grow stronger.

A whisper left his lips trailing in the cool air, “Come to me, oh sweetling with such strong desire."

Most people in the audience didn't know what to do with themselves when the man departed, but a young woman in one of the lower booths watched the stage, dark ruby eyes bright with delight and a particular feeling that could not quite be grasped. Mia Darian was a noble girl, one who belonged to a lower house. They were wealthy well beyond the capacity and reach of a normal family, but their influence was practically non-existent. Other noble houses, as well, found it distasteful how they aligned with the guilds and began involving themselves in the trades rather than remaining entrenched in their given place. The heads of the house were, in particular, interested in the theatrical arts, and tonight certainly gave them something to talk about. Despite the lack of political influence, they were a healthy family with two sons who would inherit the various enterprises they had built up, and of course, they had a daughter who served as their precious flower ready to be given away, a flower that had her eyes glued to the stage.

In all her life, Mia had never experienced something quite like that concert. She stood transfixed while her family muttered to one another in excited tones. Everyone had seemingly been too shocked to clap, so she had started the cheer just before the performer on stage had seemingly signaled that they were allowed to do as such. The energy of the performance had faded away leaving her to wonder if what she had seen was real, but there was enough noise, enough of an anchor of reality to let her know that she had not been dreaming. She turned her head to see her mother, father, and two brothers speaking in hushed tones with eyes bright with surprise and delight. They were distracted with their words, distracted with talk of the possibility of becoming the major patron of this new pianist, and none of them really seemed to be talking about the music itself. Their shapes were just that right now to her as the music still flowed through her as if it were compelling her thoughts. With a smile, she hummed a bit of the music she recalled from that evening while turning her attention to the stage while leaning over the rail of the booth. It was there that she had seen the odd man slip away without giving some sort of speech or address. What did it feel like to be so free? There was an expectation and a role for each and every one of them. Her parents were supposed to strike a pose through the evening and appear as centers of aloof strength that inspired respect rather than demanded it. The same could be said about her brothers, but they were also expected to grow into greatness, and to be fair, most of them were already at that point. One of her brothers had a mind for numbers and had partnered with a prominent researcher to study the application of alloys on the railroads. Meanwhile, the other sibling had his fingers in the manufacturing of weapons that the guards used every day. Her role in life, however, was to be nothing. They expected her to be a good girl, to be entertaining, and spend her adulthood dealing with suitors, but she had proven terrible at that role. Worst of all, no matter what she did, she could not seemingly escape that role. She had tried her hand at a variety of hobbies and professions in order to get somewhere in life besides a bargaining chip on a contract, and nothing had seemed to impress her family all that much. Even as an adult woman, all she had gotten was a frustratingly humiliating pat on the head from her father and a nudge on the shoulder from one of her brothers. Mia's digits pressed to the smooth stone of the rail before she breathed out and stepped back. There was an advantage to being in a role where the attention wasn't placed on her. For the most part, no one really seemed to look at her, and so she slipped out the door of the booth before anyone had a chance to tell her not to do anything stupid.

Mia walked down the hall with as much nobility as she could manage. She had sandy hair bound in a low bun that bounced a bit as she moved. Her hands were folded at her lap, and she tried to keep her chin up, but as she noticed she was entirely alone, the thin mask began to crack. She let her hands drop to her sides and was glad at the very least that her family had allowed her to go out in a more comfortable dress. They had wanted her in a puffy dress and painful heels that would have made her current power walking a bit difficult, but instead, she had convinced all that she would look much better in something else. Slippers with dark hose that slipped up into the dress she had picked out. Deep blue like her favorite flower with a loose fit that let her legs actually move, and regrettably, no sleeves for the cool evening. What had satisfied her family was the fact that the hem had a few frills here and there that gave her the look of a flower.

She headed down a few steps and found her way to a set of doors that led to the main seating area where most of the audience still sat there discussing the night's event. Despite the fact that she wasn't doing anything necessarily wrong, she slipped past the open door with a quick sprint before stopping. It didn't take long to find the door she wanted, not too long at all. A closed door with a single frame waited for her to touch the brass handle and turn. Sure, backstage was probably reserved for special guests and workers, but everyone was in such a trance still that she probably had just enough time to meet with the mysterious man herself, and so she stepped through the threshold while her heart hummed with excitement. Mia needed to steady her heart a bit more. She wouldn't find him backstage so easily, wouldn't see him so soon because he must've had a room he retreated to. Perhaps he would even be planning to depart soon. With such a concern in her mind, she took a hard step and prepared to go into a very undignified dash before she froze. Varren Castille was standing near the center behind the stage with his hands clasped together behind his back and his eyes looking toward her, a small smile lining his features.

Lessons of proper manners and propriety drilled into her began to surface as she straightened her posture, but embarrassment at having been caught under his gaze so soon while she had been ready to rush around looking for him toyed around with her response. She began to incline her head before remembering instead to take a step back and take the sides of her dress to give a little curtsy. However, she realized far too late that she was a noble girl, and perhaps a simple greeting would do.

Clearing her throat, she approached with slow steps and spoke quietly while trying to remember her lessons, “I apologize for wandering in on what must be a private moment to recoup after such a performance, but I simply wished to speak to the one who made such beautiful music."

The man chuckled and brought a hand to his mouth, and as she approached she could see him more clearly. What she had seen from the booth had not been a lie. Violet eyes, dusky skin that seemed to be kissed by the evening, and curled hair that was tamed with a ribbon. He wasn't even tall, but he somehow struck an imposing figure that seemed elegant to her. When he finally spoke, she found herself stopping on the spot, shuddering at the gentle sound.

“Well hello to you too, dame. I'm certain that backstage is typically reserved for workers and performers, but I suppose seeing a fan back here capable of standing after such splendor is a treat." He then gave her a deep bow and reached out to take her hand, bringing it to his mouth to plant a kiss on one of her knuckles before he rose and chuckled while still touching her, “So, what did you wish to speak about?"

There was something about his tone of voice that felt mocking, felt as if every word had been spoken with good humor, but she couldn't help but revel in the disrespect, and her cheeks brightened when she felt his lips on her hand. When he asked her that question, she finally managed to breathe out, “Who are you? Well, I guess that's a stupid question because your name was already revealed." She then cleared her throat and tried to return to form, “Moreso, I mean, I suppose—"

He held up a finger stopping her before pointing to the heavy curtains shielding them from the crowd and he leaned in while peering away from her to whisper, “You know, we're safe from prying eyes and ears." He then looked at her with a sharp grin, “Status and standard are best saved for when we need to blend in. It's just us here, so speak freely."

She took a deep breath and instead of trying to push down the excitement she felt bubbling through her, she clasped his hand with both of hers and asked in a near squeak, “What are you? And where did you come from? No one had ever heard of you and you just show up out of nowhere like magic! Was that magic?"

Varren chuckled, “Magic? Maybe. I don't know. What am I? I can't say that I really know either. I woke up like this one day and adopted a new name. I wanted to perform for the city and I saw a chance to do that. I suppose I came from home, and who I was in the past is something that I think you'd have to earn. All I can say for certain, is that I heard a sound in my dreams along with a precious whisper that told me to get up and perform, and now I'll continue doing that."

“There will be more performances?" She said with bright eyes.

He nodded slowly, “Yes. Not tomorrow, or the next night, but another when I have something I feel is presentable. I'll also be collecting musicians to help me. After all, it would be lonely if it was just me performing."

She almost asked if she could join him, but she wasn't even sure if what she did could be considered music, or if her family would approve of one of her hobbies turning into a direction for her life, and so instead she breathed out, “I think it would be wonderful to see you performing among others, but I don't think I'd be able to take my eyes off of you."

Varren shook his head, “You will. All will, and it is simply because I wish to court others who have the capability to be more." He then touched her cheek gingerly with his free hand, his touch cool and smooth as he hummed, “And I find myself hearing something like that from you. There's such longing in your voice, such passion when you speak freely. I wonder, do you play an instrument?"

Locking up, she opened her mouth a few times before she muttered, “Yes, but I mean, I don't think I'm very good."

Now his hands were clasping onto one of hers, her heart racing as he grinned and said aloud, “Let me hear you then, if not now, then another time."

She found herself unable to say no immediately, unable to deny the excitement pouring through his expression, and eventually, she managed to cough out, “I suppose, maybe I could bring my violin around sometime."

He leaned in until they were breaths apart and he muttered, “Not to worry dear, I'll come to you."

And with that, he kissed her. He actually kissed her! The nobility inside of her felt outraged, felt a fury she wasn't quite sure how to process, and yet, the part of her that longed for the freedom that he had displayed tonight rejoiced at his blessing. That joy inside of her won as her eyes fluttered, as she let the softness of his lips meld to her own. He pulled away far too soon and took a step back, looking at her with a small smile.

Mia opened her mouth a few times before she simply decided to say everything on her mind, “I should slap you. I should tell you that you're a bastard that should apologize right now, but instead, I'll just excuse myself." And as she turned around she shuddered out, “And tell you I look forward to performing for you."

Varren hummed, “A lovely proposition. I'll find a way to visit you some time to hear you play music as well. Now, what is your name sweetling?"

She felt her cheeks burst into color as she caught his tease, but instead of reacting she simply said in a cracked tone that betrayed the strength of her voice, “Mia Darian."

“Ah! One of the many houses that love to give to the arts. I should be able to meet you soon enough, and should you accept my proposal, I hope that your walls are not too thin." He said with a big smile she spotted as she turned her head to try and glare at him. Of course, he prodded the air and winked, “Because we wouldn't want to bother others with your showing, right?"

Steadying herself, she smoothed out her dress and walked away while her thoughts were anything but steady. Once Mia was out and in the hall again, she grabbed both of her cheeks to try and rub the color out of them and uttered a little whine while her thoughts came crashing against her. Propositions of lust and passion were not uncommon to her as she had to deal with suitors, but she hadn't quite met a man or woman that could make her feel this way. While he had been elegant, the man was frustratingly coy, and she couldn't get rid of this odd feeling that he had been toying with her the entire time. And yet, he had told her to speak plainly he had seen through her mask and said that he loved her passion. He wanted to hear her perform, and he hadn't tried to hide his desire for something else either. Slowly, she touched her lips where she could still feel his kiss, and wondered what sort of spell he had cast on her to make her feel so warm. Mia found herself longing for more, and if she was here by herself then she would have turned back around to find an excuse to talk to the man again, but instead, she wandered back to her family while trying her hardest to quiet the beating of her heart.

The concert had been well received by all from what she heard upon departing with her family. Her father talked enthusiastically about wanting to meet this man and her mother had somehow snagged a fine piece of information that even she found interesting. The owner of the building had been prepared to shut it all down again and repurpose it for his own needs now that the place had been repaired, but after hearing the performance he had asked Varren to stay as the manager and one of the performers of the music hall itself. A deal had been struck and all the owner had to do was collect his taxes on occasion, and deal with a few fees at the whim of Varren. Mia had a feeling that the odd pianist could get whatever he wanted out of anyone with enough time. Even just standing in his presence she felt as if she would have given everything to him. It was his voice, the way he moved; everything about him seemed hypnotic in a way that made her feel as if she were watching a piece of art, and yet, he also seemed more grounded than anyone she had ever met. His desires were out in the open, his words were clear, and he invited her to speak plainly instead of putting on a performance. Even then, she had to consider that his interest in her had to be purely carnal. To believe otherwise would be to entertain the idea that she could join him on that stage, and she just couldn't see it. On that stage, it wouldn't matter whether or not her family cared, and in her unfortunate reality, it did matter. When they got to the gates of the Darian Estate and stepped out of the carriage and into the cool evening, she opened her mouth to say something about this odd stirring inside of her that she couldn't get rid of. She wanted to say that she truly wished she could perform so freely on stage, but hasty excuses were given before her words left her lips, and her family left her standing at the gates blowing her words out in a little huff. Remaining dignified, she smoothed out her dress and headed through the estate to her room.

While she had been perfectly calm in reaction to being ignored so thoroughly, Mia clenched her fists once she was behind closed doors. She could fuss, she could grumble and hiss her frustrations out to the ghosts of the household, but instead, she went to a trunk at the foot of her bed. Mia snapped it open before doing the same to a black case resting against white linens. She pulled a violin and a bow out, the wood of the instrument a deep mahogany. Out into the night she stepped from a balcony connected to her room, the moon looking down at her as the clouds parted. The glass doors remained open behind her, and she shut her eyes slowly as she brought the instrument up and set the bow in the right place to begin playing her heart. The gentle vibration of what she played carried into the evening air, carried her sorrow and her longing, her quiet desires that could not be expressed in full because she did not want to be a bother. Mia played and played as if in prayer as if what she did would reach his ears. With her eyes shut, she wondered how it might be to play on stage, how it might be to be a performer instead of a young noblewoman belonging to a lower house. Mia the nameless. She had to smile at such little fancies, at such odd fantasies as she continued playing well into the night, and by the time she was done; Mia was ready to go to sleep dreaming of all those little fantasies hoping that somehow they would come true.

The city was abuzz with talk of this new musician with all sorts of institutions and patrons trying to lay a claim to him. Letters and messengers were sent to the music hall and most of them were ignored. No one could quite track down where the man was, but there would be rumors of his appearances around the city. A small cafe said that he had just taken a seat and ordered as if he were any other person, a store that sold brass instruments, in particular, said that he had slipped inside to inquire about anyone who often bought from them. He somehow had managed to blend in perfectly with the city and avoid any unwanted attention, but when he did want that attention he drank it all in. Not every letter was ignored either. For one, he enjoyed the stray threat or two from some institution who found his existence to be a theological threat as he did not look entirely human, and there was the musicians guild which sent a flowery address that he could describe as threatening. Of course, the dangers were of no concern to him. On the other hand, there was a particularly passionate request for a meeting to discuss patronage from one Marcus Darian, head of the Darian household.

Varren was enjoying his time in the city. Everywhere he went he seemed to draw attention of some kind, but most had not seemed to memorize his features. Maybe it was because he didn't want to be found, or perhaps he simply picked quieter places to rest his legs. The music hall was the perfect nest, and a perfectly lovely pair of individuals from the rougher parts of the streets had been paid to make sure that no one entered without permission outside of public hours. At the moment, he sat at a little table in a room with a cup of coffee letting loose steam into the air. The rich brew had been one of the many gifts from the owner of the building himself who had said that he wanted Varren to be as comfortable as possible. Something bitter and rich with just the right amount of sweetness was the perfect way to get his morning started, and the perfect addition to a little early business. Even as a grand musician, even now as his mind was flooded with thoughts of his next performance, another part of him knew that he had a game to play, but he would play it his way. He almost had to laugh at the fact that his little birdie was a girl from house Darian of all things. Accepting an invitation to discuss patronage with house Darian would be considered a gross insult as he had received letters from more prominent institutions and households. There were powerful people drooling for a chance to touch his hand and tell him that he would be cared for, people who claimed their blood was purer than the divinity of old, and all of them would have to line up for sloppy seconds after he was done signing a deal with house Darian. It was perfect. Perfect because he could give himself to someone who seemed genuinely passionate about the arts, and because he could recruit that lovely young woman that had been brave enough to step backstage. As he sipped coffee, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself with the final reason coming to the forefront. Starting trouble was just fun.

It was with the intent of causing trouble that he had sent a notice that he would be along shortly within the week. He didn't imagine he would be denied, and sure enough, he found himself at the gates within the week. The gates were blackened iron with glass fixtures atop them. Varren had decided to go nice and early when the sun was bright in the sky, but he wasn't quite sure what to expect. What he really wanted was to see the man's daughter, but the man himself wanted to talk and he imagined that convincing him to let him see the girl would be a bit difficult. Many things had felt effortless for him, and courting an entire audience seemed so simple in comparison to sitting down with another man for business when he had ulterior motives. Perhaps being as direct as possible would be the correct approach.

The iron gates creaked open slowly and out came the man himself wearing a shirt and tie. Marcus Darian approached him with a stiff gait and a big smile. The man was lithe with the kind of face that made him more concerned about the smile than not. Gloved hands reached out toward his and he accepted the offer of a handshake quietly before wincing. The man had a strength to his grip, and one that he wasn't shy about using. It told him that the man meant business, and had all the concepts of what was supposed to be a good hardy handshake drilled somewhere into his mind.

“Welcome to my household, maestro. Is that appropriate? Or should I call you Mr. Castille?" Said Lord Darian.

“Just Varren will do. There's no need to put on airs for me, your lordship." He responded with a small smile.

The lord's smile faded to a small dot and he straightened out before clapping his hands together, “Then I insist that you call me Marcus. My position as a lord is often questionable, and if you wish, then we shall be swiftly onto the matter at hand. I have questions for you, many questions, but I would not waste your time and I did not invite you for a tea party. So come, let us discuss business."

He found himself being led into the manner by the arm while the man, as it turned out, asked those questions anyway. Varren politely answered every question with as much obfuscation as possible, and it seemed to him that the lord of this household was enjoying it. A mysterious musician seemed to hold more interest to him than one that was simply talented, and Varren was both of those things. He soon found himself sitting in a parlor while he was offered a variety of drinks with odd names and some of them he was mostly certain were a form of liquor. Something sweet was what he asked for, and he was brought a liquid that could have been wine but seemed to glow. He was also poured a rather healthy amount. Heavens and elements it was quite the taste. Like licking a sugar bowl and a lemon at the same time with a quiet hint of alcohol. Was it wine? Was it poison? He didn't hate it, and the more he sipped the more the flavor seemed to become acceptable.

“So how are those terms?" Marcus said while leaning in his seat.

Trying to solve the mystery of what he was drinking had distracted him enough that he hadn't been listening. The man seemed entirely absorbed in his own words, and was even beaming waiting for Varren to respond. Not showing a single sign of his trepidation, he nodded slowly while crafting what he thought would be something appropriate to say, “Yes, you see, I would enjoy being my own person on these sorts of matters."

The man clapped his hands together hard enough to make him jump a bit before laughing, “Exactly! We are of the same mind! Many patrons force their artists to wear certain clothes, certain things to show who their allegiance is given to. All I ask is that you grace my halls now and then to play, and that is it. I will provide a set donation per month and should you need anything of me then we can work that out. Perform well for me, perform well for this world and that is all that I could ask for."

Varren set his glass down on the table before sighing, “That is all that I can ask for then. I do not need much, truthfully. My freedom to perform is it. There are many things that I wish to do, many surprises I wish to unveil, and I wouldn't wish to be tethered." Before he finished, he brought one leg over the other and placed his hands atop his knee while continuing, “But I also require more people who can play music. I require individuals that I will hand pick myself for the task, and so I have to wonder, are there any in your household that can perform? Any instrument. Even a vocalist would be fine."

Marcus blinked and stared at him before rubbing his chin, “Well, in my household? I'm not really sure the wife plays anything. The servants don't. The boys have their business tinkerings, but I suppose there is one. She's only dabbled a bit so I doubt you would want to hear it, but my daughter plays the violin, I think."

There was an air of disinterest to his words, an odd thing for one talking about his own blood, but Varren pressed on, “I would like to speak with her and hear her play. If that is possible. You see, I wouldn't want to impose, but I am looking for talent, whether they are complete or not." He then hummed, “Giving potential talent the chance to blossom beautifully is also something I'd like to do."

The man rubbed his chin before humming, “Mia is supposed to be focused on finding a suitor, but I suppose being a musician doesn't detract from that." Marcus then got up with a nod, “All right then. I'll see if she's in the mood to be your little songbird. If you deem that she is good enough, then you can have her." The man then wagged his finger, “But if you intend to court her, I would need to see more than one good performance out of you. A bit more acclaim and I would be more than glad to attach your name to my family, but for now, keep your hands to yourself."

He brought his hands out, each of them open as he shared in the chuckle, “I'll be as chaste as I can be, sir, but I can't promise I won't make an attempt. I'd be a liar to say otherwise, and what sort of man would I be? But I can promise you that I'll be a perfect gentleman and won't pursue anything serious."

Marcus met his gaze seriously before laughing, “Hah! What sort of man would you be indeed! Just remember whose household you are in. Now then, excuse me."

As lord Darian trailed away, Varren set his leg down and let out a sigh. Surprisingly, he found that man's vigor to be a bit too much. Slowly, he picked up the cup he had set down to bring it to his lips, wincing a bit before setting it down again. Well, he supposed that this visit hadn't been all that bad so far. Securing a patron would be nice, and it would help him not with the money, but with securing other musicians. To start with, he would want that girl. He already knew he wanted her, but he needed to hear her play, he needed to hear if she had the potential for what he desired. That being said, at the very least he could probably get more than a kiss out of this. For now, he would be patient and attempt to adjust to the odd flavor of house Darian.

Mia had been reading when she got the request. Her father had said that if it was too much trouble then she need not worry at all, but of course, she dropped the book on its face onto her bed before hopping up to agree immediately. She couldn't even pretend to be disinterested or that it would be a bother. When her father left to let Varren know, she moved to fetch her violin from its resting place. Excitement bubbled inside of her as she checked to make sure that everything was tuned. It had only been a week, but a week had been enough to make her wonder if it would happen at all, and yet, here he was. Her eyes were shut as she felt out each note, as she took joy in the fact that her instrument was well-maintained before her eyes cracked back open. She was in a dress, a fine little number, but was her hair fine enough? Well, of course it was. Mia always had to look prim and proper so why shouldn't today be any different? Her room had a few books strewn about here and there, but she easily collected those and put them away before smoothing out her dress. The balcony doors were opened to let the sunshine in, and she turned toward the door waiting for Varren and her father to arrive. Mia eased her heart, breathed in steadily so she could keep a bit of grace. She shouldn't be so easily swayed by the man, and what she wanted out of him was an opportunity. It wasn't the kiss, wasn't the fact that she had not been able to brush him out of her dreams. Instead, she wanted to focus on what impressing him would mean, on what joining him on stage would mean. She could make herself something separate from her family's name and would be able to do something besides a pair of legs to spread for some random noble or wealthy merchant.

When the door opened, she inclined her head as she saw Varren's familiar face, suppressed the odd warmth she felt growing, and failed to do so as she heard his voice, “Greetings lady Darian, my name is Varren Castille. Marcus here tells me that his daughter can play the violin, and I am searching for those with potential to join me. Would you play something for me?"

That's right. Her father didn't know that they had met just yet, and so she breathed out, “My name is Mia Darian, and I would be overjoyed for the chance if you'll listen." She then remembered her manners and looked toward her father while adding, “If my father believes that it is a worthwhile endeavor."

Her father crossed his arms and gave her a curt nod, “I wouldn't have brought him here if I didn't think it wasn't a worthwhile endeavor. Go on, give it a try before going back to whatever else you were doing."

The lack of belief in his words was practically palpable. Even Varren's pupils shifted for a second toward the man before looking back toward her. She breathed out and brought her violin up while ignoring the sting she felt from the lack of her father's support. Despite standing in her own home, despite standing before her father and this strange man, Mia felt alone. She shut her eyes and clasped onto that loneliness and began to play a quiet sound from her memories. It was a mimicry of one of the songs Varren had played, the beginning so quiet and so gentle that it could be anything, but then she found her loneliness breaking apart into irritation, into anger and she held onto that as tight as possible while the notes rose into the air. It felt like an eternity standing there and playing, but she didn't feel the gaze of Varren or her father because even in her anger, she was still alone. Alone in trying to break free of her role, and alone in even trying to fit into her role.

When she finally stopped playing and opened her eyes, she noticed that her father's face did not change, but Varren's eyes were bright. Her father's mouth opened with a sigh as he turned toward Varren, but the musician surged forth and laughed, “Fantastic! It was such a somber and touching little thing. I recognized the sound immediately, but to hear you play it in such a way made me wonder what you were holding onto in there. I hope you will join your sound to mine, and with a little coaching, I'm sure you'll be even better in time!"

Her father's shoulders drooped a bit, his eyes wide as he spoke quietly, “Is that so?" Whatever had befallen him was quickly over as he brought a fist to his mouth and straightened out while clearing his throat, “Well, I suppose that's that then. She's an adult and more than free to attend concerts, practice, and coaching as you will. The details will be worked out amongst yourselves I assume, but I'd appreciate a draft of the contract as well."

Varren turned toward her father with hands clasped together as he said gently, “Of course, sir. I know that this must come as a shock. What father wishes to give away the time of his princess, his gem? I promise you I will treat her right and that she will have her fair due. Would you let me negotiate with her? I would have her tell me her terms, and with a legal counsel we will get you a proper contract to make sure there are no misgivings."

It seemed to Mia, that her father was a little bit stunned. He rubbed his chin and tilted his head as if trying to observe something new and strange before mumbling, “Legal counsel? That sounds good, sounds right." He then looked to Mia, “You know, I could negotiate a contract for you. No need to go it alone."

She knew what Varren really wanted, what his gaze desired when he looked toward her, but she also didn't want her father negotiating for her, and so she breathed out with a small smile, “I think I can handle myself. Besides, if you see something wrong then you can say so later when I present the papers to you."

Her father nodded slowly and as he stood at the threshold of the door he sniffed, “I'll have the servants bring you two some tea." And as he shut the door he muttered, “Behave."

When the sound of her father's steps could not be heard, she put away her violin and set the case on her bed. She kept her eyes on the case as Varren began to move with deliberate steps. Mia heard him wandering around to her side, and he brought a hand up to touch her cheek. She thought about pushing his hand away, about keeping her propriety for a second, but instead, she remained still and kept her eyes focused on the case. What would his next move be? Would he simply pounce on her, or would he actually do what he said he was going to do? The fingers touching her cheek moved up to a few loose strands of hair.

As he trailed his digit along the length of the strands, he chuckled, “Here I thought that I would have had to wait for months carefully planning my way to see you, only to find that your father had sent a letter almost immediately inviting me over. Tell me, what is your price to play at my side?"

Trying to keep calm, she turned to meet his gaze while breaking his touch to her hair, her voice as steady as she could manage it, “A proper pay is one thing that I would require. I shouldn't be giving my services for free."

She shuddered as he simply gave a small cut of a smile and inclined his head, “Of course. The exact pay can be worked out in time, but I wouldn't have you working for scraps. You'd be part of my orchestra eventually, part of my team, but I also want you as a partner in due time." As her cheeks began to redden, he explained while humming, “You see, I'd like to have a bit of help running the ins and out of the music hall. I'm one person, a single entity that cannot be spread so thin. I've already been hiring managers and whatnot, but I alone cannot judge all the talent in the world either. I want you to join me in making something grand."

Mia found that she couldn't keep the excitement from her voice as she said, “Yes!" She caught herself afterward with a few fingers on her mouth before she cleared her throat and added, “That sounds satisfactory, but I don't know if I can really help you with all that. I'd like to try, but the most I can promise is my performance and my attention to your coaching, whatever that might be."

Varren leaned in close, his hand drifting down to clasp her chin. He stopped a breath away from her lips and spoke quietly, “We're alone so you can speak plainly with me. Let me hear that held in passion."

She stepped away from his touch with a gasp, her first act of resistance to whatever spell he had put on her. That resistance seemed so meek as she stood there while trying to keep herself from trembling in terror and excitement in equal measures while she gave him his response, “I'd like it! I would, but I'd also appreciate it if you didn't just do that without any warning."

Clasping his hands behind his back, Varren snickered, “So should I warn you first before doing it?"

Mia stared at him for a second or two before she nodded slowly, “Yes, I think that would suffice."

“So, I can do whatever I want?" Varren began as he approached step by step, “As long as I warn you first?"

She felt her throat go dry, her cheek flushed with heat before she muttered, “Well, you told me to be plain with you, so why shouldn't you be plain with me? I don't want someone pretending. Already I think that your interest in my skills is a front, and you even suggested as such before, so I'd much rather you be fully honest with me."

Mia expected him to state his intent and rush her, but instead, he took her hand gingerly and began shaking his head while uttering in a hushed tone, “Mia, my dear flower, I would never lie to you about my interest in your talents. The potential you hold is something beautiful that I would foster, and my desires for you are as plain as can be. Your longing and passion are as beautiful as your body, and I would peel apart your clothing and your soul to see what you hold beneath it all. So then, let me kiss you again."

The answer was a yes, but what propriety demanded of her was something different entirely. She opened her mouth to stage an argument, to say something against it, but found that no words came out. Varren closed the distance between them and touched her arms, his thumbs running circles against the skin as he brought his mouth over hers. Another stolen kiss. Another chance for her to slap him for being so forward, but what she did instead was lean into the kiss, her lips parting for his quite easily as his tongue began to dance along her own. The warmth of the kiss nearly swallowed her whole, the heat of his tongue surprising her compared to the gentle chill she could feel from his fingers. Everything about him felt unnatural in the smallest ways, but his grasp was true, his desire and need pouring through the kiss in an undeniable manner. She wished that there was someone who had an expectation for her, someone who wanted her to do something so she could either break past it or fulfill it, but instead her life had remained stagnant. The sun on her back pouring in from the window felt so much stronger than usual, so much more real, and she leaned into the kiss in full to throw herself away and give herself to whatever he wanted from her.

A knock at the door caused her to jump along with the voice of a familiar woman asking if she could come in. They both stepped away from one another and gave their lips a quick wipe before straightening out, Mia called aloud, “Come in!"

The door opened and in came a maid with a big smile and platter that she had not expected. There were tiny cakes on them along with the drinks that had been promised, and the maid bubbled about, “I figured you two could use a nip to grease the wheels and I wanted an excuse to have the artsy gentlemen here try my baking. You're the talk of the town, y'know? Really, the entire city!" She then took a good look at each of them before humming, “And my, have you been saying anything inappropriate to Lady Mia? Her cheeks are red as an apple!"

Thankfully, Varren was composed enough to make an answer. He took a pointed fork in hand and took a piece from the tip of one of the cakes as he spoke, “I'm quite sorry to say that my words are a bit too brazen when it comes to talent I recognize. You see, I don't truly believe her potential was realized or even properly given compliment." He then snapped the piece into his mouth and swallowed before he smiled at the maid while prodding the fork in the air, “And I must say, your taste is better than Lord Darian's. This mulled sweetness blends perfectly with the other flavors instead of overpowering them."

The maid's eyes seemed to shine for a second and her cheeks brightened while she giggled, “My, my! I can see why anyone would blush with such kind words. Well, carry on then!"

She set the platter on a little table on the balcony before the woman departed and shut the door behind her. Both of them waited for a moment while Varren wagged the fork in the air before she let out a breath as if she had been holding it in the entire time, “That was far too close! Maybe we should stop until another time?"

Instead, he looped an arm around her waist and brought her close to his body while letting their lips crash together again. No warning, no tell, but still she felt her eyes shut slowly and her heart begin to beat faster. The warmth of the kiss enveloped her again, her body shuddering as she could feel his hips grinding closer. His intent and desire were plain to feel when she could feel something so thick pressing through his trousers against her body. Part of her wanted to push away, and every other piece of her body and mind was telling her to cling closer and continue the kiss. That mulled sweetness that he had talked about spread through their kiss, warm spittle mixing together with that flavor creating a lovely concoction of their desires.

Again their lips parted, but she did not have time to rest her heart as his mouth moved to her neck, his warm breaths trailing across her skin causing her to shiver. Another few kisses on her neck and suddenly, she felt his hands on her thighs through her dress. Her words came out like steam along her tongue, “What magic are you using? You have the entire city wrapped around your finger, and even I'm ready to let you do whatever you want. Surely you've cast some sort of spell on me."

“If it is magic, then it is simply part of what I am. Something divine, or something terrible entered me as I slept one night, and perhaps only a piece of it remains whispering such lovely songs. Whoever I was before, does not matter, but I am something entirely different. Spider, human, demon; whatever I am does not matter. I only know what I want to do, and I want to bring you along with me. So be mine." He whispered to her.

Varren's fingers drifted under the hem of her dress to begin brushing along bare skin and rising. This reminded her that she was barely presentable, that there was no material between him and her legs, and that it would be so easy for him to tear the loose dress she wore. Mia found herself wishing that she didn't like dresses so much, that her interests were more aligned with riding pants, or that she had at least worn longer socks. In part, because his fingers were trailing across her legs in a manner that made her tremble, and also because she couldn't but wonder what he would do if she had pants on. As he got to her waist, he pressed forward firmly and moved his mouth to her shoulder to bite down. The fabric of her dress might as well not have been there as his fangs sunk in, the points pressing against her skin just a little bit before he breathed out instead of biting down harder.

He brought his head back, his thumbs hooking through the waist of her underwear as he muttered, “What is it that you want?"

With the choice unlocked of being able to say what she wanted, being able to show what she wanted, she placed her hand atop the tent he was pitching while breathing out, “This, but I also want to be splendid on my own terms. I want greatness; I don't want to be a trophy attached to a name."

His fingers began to tug her underwear down, her legs shivering as he breathed out, “I'll make you glow on stage, I'll make all see who you are, but you have to remember that you'll be mine to toy with. Don't forget that."

Her nervous digits found the button of his pants, her gaze peering into his as she gave her answer by popping it free. The zipper came down and she pushed through his pants with her hand grasping something firm behind thin underwear that slipped down easily. What she now held in her grip was a human's cock, but it was thicker than she expected and there was a darkness to it that reminded her of ink. The more she stared at it, the more she noticed that the shape was odd as well, and at that moment she remembered that he wasn't exactly human. Something had taken hold of him. Something had possessed him and made him different than what he was, but this new will was still his own.

When she looked up at him, she gulped, “Could you change me like that? Put a piece of whatever is in you, inside of me?"

For once she saw surprise in his gaze, his thumbs pressed against her inner thighs while he muttered, “You wouldn't need to take on divinity or corruption to be splendid. Is that simply something you want to do?"

“To abandon my name, and my household." She said quietly before adding with a breath, “To become entirely my own, and yours by my choice."

He tilted his head slowly before looking away while humming, “I think I could do something like that. Perhaps after a few lessons, but you might not be able to return here if you change so drastically."

When he looked toward her, his gaze seemed so soft in contrast to the boldness that had his cock in her hand. When she breathed out, she did so with a smile, “Then they'll have to accept whatever change happens, and if not, then I'm sure I'd be fine. And there's no guarantee that I would change so much. Even then, whatever happens, I would want to risk it."

Varren's fingers continued, the fabric of her underwear resting just above her knees before he moved a set of digits to slide against her slit causing her to nearly double over as he whispered, “You'll stay with me if that's the case, or the music hall can accommodate you. This longing and passion are too sweet to let go of. Please, let me hear more of that beautiful music."

And again their mouths met for a loving kiss. She had not been able to keep even a semblance of propriety. Simply put, she didn't want to, and the thought of trying to make an honest attempt was tiring. Instead, she let out gentle little sighs when she felt one of his fingers slide inside of her, and gripped firmly onto his member to begin stroking it gingerly. His heat pulsed against her fingers as if leaping to the attention, his lips securing hers in an embrace that made her feel dizzy. Adding to that lovely dizziness was the finger probing inside of her, rolling around and sliding in deeper, pushing against her inner walls and grinding her mind away. She had wished her suitors would have been so bold, would have been so brave. There had always been a desire to cast aside the pretenses and hear what they really wanted. A few of them had seemed lustful when they met alone, and a few times there was touching, but none of them seemed to have the raw boldness to be able to simply state what they wanted and go for it.

If it weren't for the fact that her father might return at any moment, then she would have bent over for him immediately. As it stood, she needed to hurry things up, and so she pulled her lips away and muttered, “Should I use my mouth to hurry this up?"

Suddenly, Mia found herself on her rear at the edge of the bed. Her cheeks burned as she felt his hands grasp onto her ankles, her dress being pushed up and out of the way as his head dipped between her legs. Before she could say anything, she felt his tongue along her crotch. Mia gasped and closed her legs, her mouth shut tight now as she tried to hold in the sounds of her arousal as his tongue got to work. Up and then down, around her heat but never on it just yet, teasing every little spot with clear intent. She wanted to kick him and tell him to get on with it, but his tongue did just that and her leg bucked against his grip meekly instead. She let out a groan as his tongue trailed the edge of her slit before pressing firmly, her body shuddering as one of his hands moved to aid. Two digits dipped inside of her, two digits slid in deep and twisted around while his tongue pressed and pushed against a specific spot. She clenched her eyes shut and tried her hardest to keep her mouth shut, but again she had to gasp out a moan and a sigh, one that continued on as he toyed and teased with her. He didn't stop either, didn't slow down his pace. In fact, his finger's movements were growing feverish, his tongue remaining the only rhythm that remained the same. The constant grinding made it far too difficult to hold back. She gasped and thrust toward the man's tongue as she felt her orgasm hit her hard, the heat washing her slipping free as if her spirit were leaving her body. When she felt her back hit the bed again, she almost asked him to take her there. Varren slipped free from the folds of her dress while his fingers continued to toy with her insides, their eyes meeting and the words on her lips, but they stopped as they heard a knocking at the door.

A few more knocks and her father's voice came as he opened the door, “I'm coming in!"

Mia and Varren sat at the table outside on the balcony smiling at one another, Varren cleaning the fork that had been discarded on the floor with one of the napkins the maid had left them. As her father approached she looked toward him while trying to keep the creeping fright out of her voice and she said in genuine joy, “We've worked out a fantastic deal. I'm sure you'll be more than happy with it."

Her father looked toward her before looking at Varren who was now picking at his slice of cake with a satisfied look on his face before he rubbed his chin, “Well, I suppose we'll see about that when the paperwork gets drafted."

Varren set his fork down to pick up one of the tea cups and as Mia poured to keep up the charade, Varren hummed, “Your daughter is very shrewd. I've given her a paid position as well as mentorship. I would also like to have your daughter along for my recruitment as I believe she has an ear for music."

As he drank the tea, her father held his hands behind his back and smiled a bit at that one, “I see, it seems we have a healthy future then, and you have many plans of your own! I am curious, do you plan on doing anything else outside of music?"

When she looked at Varren, she could see that he had paused and set his cup down as if truly considering it before he chuckled, “That's a good question. Right now, my heart tells me to perform, to play this music that has wrapped itself around my very being. For the future? I don't know, perhaps I will make the music hall into a thaumaturge's dream. Performers of all kinds and more."

Her father took Varren by the shoulder gingerly, and Varren rose as they began to chatter to one another leaving her behind at the table. She was glad for the privacy as they stepped out of the door. Varren had already left his goodbyes all over her body, and she could still feel the warmth pulsing within and around her. Mia shut her eyes and let the cool breeze brush along her hair, and she reached up to let her hair loose before placing the pins on the table gingerly. Father hadn't noticed, but that didn't mean he was overjoyed about what had happened. He seemed mostly bright at the prospect of future business, and she guessed that the man didn't even expect her to stick it out. As if her concerns could summon him, her father returned through the door and back out into the balcony to stand at the rail.

“Is this truly what you wish to be doing with your time?" He asked quietly.

She looked out into the blue sky away from her father and said plainly, “Yes."

Her father grunted as he pushed away from the stone rails, “Very well. I won't have you complaining about what it is you're supposed to do, and if that man should ever tell me that you aren't doing your due diligence then I will have you back here doing something else. Perhaps all of this will also be of interest to potential suitors."

One of her eyes twitched and her voice slipped without her meaning to, “I would rather not have them barking at my doors."

Mia found herself wanting to open her mouth and apologize, but her father simply said stone-faced as he began to walk away, “Call them dogs all you want, but you'll have to marry one of them someday. You are my daughter, and I intend to use you as a connection so that our family might grow in this world of ours. Be that as it may, hold your tongue and hide your fangs. You'll be prettier that way."

When the door to her room shut, she closed her eyes and leaned back against her seat, and sighed. Normally, his cold words would have twisted her heart and caused her eyes to water, but instead, she found herself smiling just a bit. It did not matter what he said, because she had a place waiting for her. A place where she could hone her craft and be something on her own, a place where that man waited with his lips and tongue and so much more. Her fingers drifted to her lips as she found herself dreaming of the song she had heard. The hum of his mouth on hers, the light percussion of their lips smacking together before parting. Sighs and groans together weaving a beautiful symphony. She would be his if she went down this path, but that was her choice to make.

Varren left the estate with a bright smile. The sun was still shining brightly, but there were things to take care of back at the music hall. For one thing, he needed to get those contracts drafted with the help of someone else who was much better at paperwork, and he also needed to calm down. As he headed down the street from the estate to the edge of an avenue bustling with activity, he could not help but think of what had nearly come to pass. Someone so full of longing and passion had been right at his fingertips and he had practiced what he would consider far too much restraint. He could have had her right there, but that would have certainly jeopardized his position in this city. Varren would rather not piss off anyone remotely powerful just yet. Oh yes, perhaps later he could spit in the face of every man and woman pretending that they stood over others, but for now, he wanted to play nice to let everyone hear his music. There was a certain level of influence he would need before he could really start shaking things up, but that caught him off guard. As the carriage rolled by and the door was opened for him to take his seat, he wondered what had come over him. Perhaps it had been the interaction with the girl that had stoked his fires a bit, but there was something so genuinely desirable about watching the world alight with passion and light rather than the dull things he saw right now. He peered outside the window and all he could see were quiet grays and people dressed in bleak colors with the occasional trendsetter wearing something a bit more colorful. It wasn't the clothes, however, that caught his attention. It was the lack of life he felt vibrating from the crowds. He wanted to ignite something within, wanted to see these people more active, and at the same time, his lust remained at the back.

He breathed out and leaned in his seat while closing his eyes, perhaps he should have used her mouth, but then he wouldn't have been able to hear her lovely song. Just as he shut his eyes, he heard the coach driver speaking, “Busy day, sir?"

Varren opened an eye to see a woman at the front, he could barely just make out her turned head but he decided to respond with a little smile, “An exciting one, and indeed busy. Business and pleasure mixed in quite the unexpected way, but I'm sad to say that I was not able to close out one of these things, and sadly, it was the pleasure."

The woman coughed and shuffled up at the front while speaking aloud, “My, you're quite frank for a man so well-dressed. Woulda figured you were the type to tell me to hush my mouth and keep on the road. Glad to see you're a bit more sociable, though, a little bit too forthwith with the private words."

She gave a little snicker at the end of what she said, and he drank in the sounds coming off of her. There were so many little noises that he could pick up, so many vibrations from the surrounding world that had steadily become louder and louder as time went on. If he really wanted to, then he could tune them all out, but right now he could hear something like nervous desire from the woman. Ah, could he press and ease this desire of his? He could see it now, and he even let a hand drift over the top of his pants where his shaft began growing again. Telling her to stop near some quiet alley where he could take her against the wall. Barely pulling her within the confines before letting out all his lust and desire, and yet, something kept him from vocalizing his want. It was not out of loyalty that he kept his desires to himself, but it was simply that it would be like having a snack before a dinner you've sampled. Certainly, it would be nice to have a treat that would satisfy and suffice, but you wouldn't be able to fill yourself as much, wouldn't be able to enjoy the meal to the fullest with the same ravenous desire that you had before. And so he placed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap while smiling brightly. No sense in rushing. He would have Mia in front of him soon enough.

Another matter that drove him wild was what she had said, what she had wanted from him. Corruption. Divinity and transformation. He had been about to answer that he could not, but he heard the whisper of a tune in his mind that had said it would absolutely be feasible. He could have her join him truly. Perhaps, he should even propose to her. Such a thing nearly brought him to a chuckle as he thought of that hawk of a father having his daughter taken away so abruptly. What would he even do? The girl was an adult and able to make her own decisions, and slowly it seemed like she was becoming more and more dissatisfied with her family's disinterest, so why not cause a little chaos? When he was dropped off at the music hall, he allowed himself to touch the coachman's hand to pull her into a gentle kiss as a thanks for listening to him for that little bit and being so cheery. When he pulled away, she had a hand on her lips, a hand that jolted as she realized he had left her two very shiny coins extra on top of what he owed her.

Once he got inside, he began the busywork that would be necessary. There were a number of staff that had volunteered early on to stay with him, ones that he had to help him run the stage, but some with experience that exceeded that. He had hired a few more after careful vetting and thankfully, there was a man who was quite the wizard with numbers and legal matters. He strode into an office that appeared as if it were in an entirely different world and stopped at the doorway. The walls had been painted white and the floors had been furnished with a dark mossy carpet. There was a desk that looked far too cheap to be in a building like this and a lamp hung above the cluttered workspace. Behind the desk was a fellow with olive skin and tired eyes, but with a small smile. He had a quill in hand and was scrawling something in a ledger before peering at a sand counter of all things.

When he looked up, the man beamed, “Ah! Mister Castille. To what do I owe this pleasure?" He then winked and pointed with his quill, “Something dealing with matters not to your particular tastes?"

Varren beamed and took another step inside, “I find your persistence in calling me by my last name commendable, and yes, I'd like you to drum up a contract for a girl I'm going to be pulling into our employ."

The man hummed, “Is that so? A member of our little organization here? Will she be a clerk, or perhaps something a bit more fantastical and on stage? Or perhaps something else you sly beast!"

He laughed and shook his head. Despite being one to deal with all the fussy things in life and bureaucracy, he had come to know this man as someone with a good sense of humor, and a very bright mind, and so he did not lie, “A mix of the last and a musician I wish to foster the potential of. She'll be paid a fair wage equal to someone who would be a senior staffer, and will have amenities if necessary. I want to bring her on as something close to my equal in eventuality."

“Is that right?" Hummed the man while tapping his nose, “Well, Mister Castille, I suppose if you've got it bad you've got it bad. See, in my position, I'm supposed to tell you what a stupid idea that is, but you've got your ways and I've seen them work. I can only tell you what the numbers are, but when you have that twinkle in your eyes I know that I just have to watch and make sure nothing too terrible is happening. This little outfit of ours is small and we've only just met, but I certainly feel brighter working here."

“Then let's begin, and I'll tell you all the juicy details, my friend." He said with a small smile.

They shared a drink of something gentle while he explained everything that had happened at the Darian estate and what he was going to do. The man chided him several times, but laughed just as much. Between them, the contract was drawn up and gone over a few times before they sent it off with a messenger. Mia was to show day by day each week with two days off for herself whenever she wanted. The hours listed weren't long, but they did mention that she could stay for more or less depending on how she felt. It was a very loose contract and one that offered lucrative benefits to the girl, but of course, that would be too easy. They had to put in a few things that seemed like they were trying to win a legal battle of some sort just to get that hawk of a father to fence with them, and of course, they feigned a defeat by accepting his terms that he had sent back without too much argument hoping that would stroke his ego a bit.

All of that occurred, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to see that girl again, to hear that sweet longing and passion of hers. Varren needed to see her beneath his body, to make her writhe and twist as a new song soared between them and he spent his evenings with his leg bouncing and ideas sprouting through his mind. Songs of desire and lust, of love and control, of unyielding passion! Pages were torn and tossed away at his study desk by lantern light, the warm flame within flickering as if warning him to go to sleep, but why would he need that when inspiration had struck so finely? The notes were etched onto the bar, and cut into the page until he felt he had what he wanted. This continued until the first day came when he was supposed to be a teacher, and despite the lack of sleep, he felt excited to no end.

Mia's first day at the music hall he waited for her on the stage itself while toying with the piano. He played a few notes while humming to himself. Today he wore a long-sleeved shirt and trousers, the collar left open. When he heard the doors of the empty amphitheater open, he stopped toying with the piano and peered over at the source of the sound. Mia strode in carrying a case strapped around her shoulder, her eyes full of delight peering all around while she wandered through the outer seats approaching closer and closer. When she got up on stage, he could see that she was wearing a light blue blouse this time with a skirt and tights beneath that. She approached him with a smile and opened her mouth to say something, but he rose and took her hand to pull her close and into his embrace and kiss, unable to stop himself from doing so. He hadn't checked to see if anyone was watching, but did he care? Not at all. Her warmth tasted fantastic. The sound of her muffled sighs caused his mind to spark with joy, the sweet vibration of her longing thrumming until it became a lustful passion. Even then, there was music to play, wasn't there?

And so as he let her go he breathed out, “Ready to practice with me?"

She seemed to stumble from one step to the other before she found her balance and cleared her throat, “Of course."

He had a stand prepared for her with sheet music and a seat should she need it, and he sat down at the piano prepared to take her through a few exercises. The basics, the simple notes that made up the core of what he needed from her. Varren was glad to hear that she didn't need much practice to get everything nice and steady, and he found himself transitioning into testing her ability to learn a new composition. She listened intently to the song before looking at the sheet music to play her part. He had designed this composition as a duet and she had her part, and he had his, but he had made alterations to each part for his instrument and her own to see how she handled a little oddness. The only thing he wasn't satisfied with was this nervous trill he could feel vibrating from her. The humming of the music was beautiful, the whine of the violin rising and falling perfectly, accompanied the piano splendidly, but there was something dissonant in the air. He could feel a vibration like desperation and concern coming from her. It was so odd compared to the typical longing and passion he felt flowing from her. Varren could still enjoy her song, but it wasn't what he had brought her here for, it wasn't what he needed to feel at this moment. Still, he continued playing until a suitable stopping point. When the air was full of empty tones and quiet vibrations only felt by him, he rose from the bench in front of the piano and looked toward her.

Mia was smiling, but still, he asked as he approached her, “Are you doing well?" And as she frowned he brought a hand up, “That performance was wonderful, but I feel as though you were shaking throughout the entire thing."

“I…I am nervous, I will admit that." She said while peering away, “I keep thinking about the world looking at me, I keep thinking about you looking at me, and I can't help but think that I will still be nothing on this stage."

Varren took her violin and bow from her hands gingerly and looked toward them before putting them back in her case. She stood there with her hands clasped together, the smile on her face twitching as he felt discord pouring off of her. He rose to answer that discord by cupping her cheeks gingerly while looking into her eyes, “I picked you. I chose you because you are something beautiful. There is such a light within you waiting to burst free. There is nothing to fear on this stage. Nothing to be concerned about here. I will have you stripped bare in front of these crowds and they would be in awe of your performance."

She trembled against his touch and at his words, but her hands only moved up to rest at his wrists as she muttered, “Really?"

“Yes!" He then smirked, “And you didn't even question me about putting you up on stage in the nude. Are you that excited to strip down for me?"

Mia's cheeks burned and he could feel her usual tones and sounds ringing through as she huffed, “Hush, I was just focused on how sweet you were. And I mean, I know that you want to use me. I know that you're not exactly doing this out of the kindness of your heart, but I still feel so good about it." She then looked down toward the violin case while muttering, “Should we get back to practicing?"

His thumbs brushed along her cheeks as he directed her attention back to his gaze. They shared that moment underneath the heated spotlight shining on them before he leaned in and planted his mouth against hers. His fingers moved down to the front of her blouse to flick buttons out of the way, her digits trembling on his wrists as she tried to mutter something about there being people that could come in at any time, but he simply chuckled and continued on. The top of the blouse was opened wide to let a hand inside and through a bra cup to squeeze a soft and supple breast. A thumb dragged along her nipple as she squeaked and trembled, her fingers falling away from his wrists as she allowed him to do as he pleased. Every movement he made along her body, every breath he took seemed to bring out another lovely sound from her lips that flowed along his. He quieted those sounds and replaced them with the smack of mouth on mouth, the parting of lips, and his tongue sliding inside with a sticky sound. This was his domain, his home, and his palace where he could do as he pleased with this lovely girl. She had come to him willingly knowing that he would use her, and she was more than glad to give herself to him. At the same time, he didn't want to break her, didn't want to unmake her. Oh no. He genuinely wanted to see her thrive above everyone else, to shine on the outside just as much as he felt she did on the inside with those lovely vibrations. At the same time, he would ruin her. He would corrupt and use her as an outlet for his lust and desire until the light in her eyes was his all alone. And she'd love every second of it.

When he pulled his mouth away, his tongue slipped free of her lips slowly, those ghostly arms he had shown the night of his performance appearing again to begin unbuttoning his shirt as he muttered, “Last chance to walk away. Last chance to take a step off the stage and leave. Tell me what you want."

As he took a step back, she grabbed her shirt and pulled it off, her bra was soon tossed off the side of the stage letting her stand there in the nude fully while she breathed out shakily, “I want to shine on my own, and I want to be yours."

His shirt had been tossed aside, and undid his pants enough to let his cock out. He then shut the lid of the grand piano just to give her a place to put her hands as he dragged her wrists toward it. His fingers trailed along the softness of her back, a set of phantom digits grabbing her skirt to lift it high. Varren traced the curves of her body, hand feeling over her side to appreciate her form as he had appreciated the sound coming from her. She shuddered at his touch, her hands clasped tight atop the lid of the piano. There was a part of him that wanted for this to be something quick so he wouldn't go too far, so he wouldn't do something that he shouldn't. At the same time, he couldn't help himself. This body of hers, this song of hers, and that sweet longing and passion he had felt from her made him tremble in delight. When she was speaking plainly to him she was a strong girl and her desire to be seen was admirable. Was it love? He wasn't sure right now but he simply knew that he wanted her.

Varren stepped back to admire the form of her body bent over with her hips hiked up in the air presented to him. She knew exactly what she was getting into, and yet, she had worn a few barriers that needed to be stripped away. His fingers moved up to grasp the rim of the tights to tug them down along with her underwear, the temptation to rip and tear bubbling up inside of him, instead he remained gentle and calm for now. When he had her tights and underwear down at her ankles, he grasped onto her legs and felt up all the way to the rear, squeezing tight before spreading to get a good look at all of her. Lovely rump and a plush heat waited for him, and he rose with a smile to press the tip of his cock against her slit. He eased himself in the right location before placing a hand on his cock to steady himself. With a warm breath, he eased inside of her and let that wet heat envelop him. He grunted as her shallows parted for him, as her insides took him in deeper and deeper and then more as he thrust. Mia gasped, a lovely sound pouring off of her that carried his hips forward as his hands moved to grasp onto her hips, phantom digits moving around to her front to grab onto her chest. She didn't seem to mind this odd form of him, this corruption of humanity seemingly nothing to her. Did she seem excited by it? By the oddness of his skin, by the fangs that had pricked her before? With a grin, he leaned in and tested that by biting down on her shoulder, and indeed her insides tightened on his shaft and she let out a sweet little groan.

Every inch he shoved inside of her, every push he made seemed to bring out more of her voice, but still she held it in, still it felt as if she were trying to keep that beauty to herself. He squeezed her chest and leaned in to thrust deep inside of her, every inch of his cock buried in her now to let him begin a gentle rhythm. At the same time, he moved his fangs from her shoulder to kiss her neck, to let little breaths out to remind her always that he was behind her and taking her in every manner. When she turned to look at him, he could see the sparkle of her eyes calling him, and he leaned in further to match his mouth with hers as she turned just enough to accept this kiss. What song he could feel and hear now came from the vibrations of her body, came from the little whispers in the air that sang of her passion and desire that was so damn pure. Performing on this stage for him had been more frightening for her than this.

When he brought his lips away, he breathed out slowly, “I won't pull out. I want you to feel my warmth."

She gave him a smile that warmed his heart as she sighed, “Without any protection? I figured that was going to happen. Do whatever you want. Make me yours."

The tone of her voice, and the absolute joy that he felt radiating from her carried him forward. He thrust faster, he pushed in deeper with more of her strength jolting her body. She gasped and turned forward all the way again to clamp onto the piano for dear life while he buried himself as far as he could inside of her. His arms wrapped around her to hold her against his chest, to feel the shivering of her form against him and steady it as he protected her. Her breaths were growing more frequent, her hips were jolting back toward him, and he had no idea whether or not this was her first, but she took it so damn well. With one more thrust, with one more push, he felt the heat of his desire lance through his entirety before shooting inside of her. He bit down on her shoulder to silence a curse, his hands drifting along her form to feel her shaking as she moaned aloud in a pure song that echoed into the amphitheater. Varren continued rocking his hips steadily, continued pushing until he felt his pleasure cease pouring out inside of her.

It was Mia that spoke first, her voice said in loving huffs, “Are you going to corrupt me now?"

He moved his mouth to plant a kiss on her cheek while drawing lines along her back and humming, “Would that be such a good idea? There would be changes, and there is the matter as well that you might feel entirely different. I don't care for whoever I was before, but as you are now, how do you feel?"

Varren backed away as Mia pushed herself up and turned around to lean back against the piano while breathing, her hair loosened with locks hanging over her eyes as she beamed at him, “I know that whatever happens to me I'll become someone who will shine brightly on stage, and the most important thing right now is that my heart will belong to you."

His heart began to beat just a bit faster as he stepped forward to draw her into his embrace. Varren held her gently and kissed her chest and throat, ghostly fingers passing along her sides and up all the way to her neck where they began weaving light and silk. It became a gentle material, a black choker around her neck weaved from that light, and he followed the whisper's instructions to the letter. His lips drifted to hers and he breathed out a mote of light that he pressed to her lips as he kissed her. Her eyes seemed to glow a bit as they turned to half moons, as she trembled and wrapped her arms around him. She accepted whatever he did without question and held him there as he corrupted her to the core with his little kiss of a forgotten divinity.

Mia had been given something truly beautiful. She had fallen asleep once that kiss had been completed, and in her dreams, she could hear the world whispering to her. There was something strange approaching her through the blackness of her slumber, and her presence rose to feel it envelop her. Whatever it was, it didn't feel terrible, didn't feel awful. Instead, she found herself touched by something that curled and twisted with passion, something that connected her to a song that she would call life. She could hear the whisper clearly now, a voice all around her asking her a simple question in a gentle voice.

“Do you want to be remade?" Said the voice.

At one point, she would have said yes immediately, but she had been given such love and passion. All of that had been given to her along with the belief in her potential. She wanted to remain as herself. She wanted to remain Mia, but she wanted to be herself in every aspect of her life. No longer did she wish for her family's name to muddy what would become her legacy. Her brothers had their wishes and their businesses and were encouraged in every aspect. Meanwhile, she was supposed to be settled for being a doll given away. No! Instead, she would give herself to Varren as his performer, as his musician, his jester, whatever he desired so long as she could remain herself.

And so she said, “No, I want to shine."

With that, the dream ended and she felt warmth engulf her at every corner. Her eyes cracked open and she was suddenly very awake. Mia sat up slowly and placed a hand on her head noting the sweat drenching her. What she noticed next is that she had been placed in a bed entirely nude. Looking around her, she found that she was in a dressing room of sorts that felt more like a proper room than a temporary place for a performer to get ready. There was even a little desk next to the wall with a bookcase nearby. She pushed the covers off of her body and froze as she heard an odd sound. A gentle vibration stirred in the air along with a subtle desire inside of her to hum to it. She smiled just a bit and slipped out of bed determined to see what else had changed. A full body mirror allowed her to see, with some disappointment, that her proportions remained the same, but at the same time, she noticed the choker on her neck. She touched it and her cheeks burned as she recalled the time she spent with the man who had corrupted her. Was this a sign of their partnership? Regardless, she would cherish it forever.

Mia hummed as she peered at her eyes noting that they had not changed color, and as well her skin remained the same. So had nothing happened except the presence of the song of the world? No, she did feel different but she wasn't sure how to put it. She was simply herself, but maybe it was too soon to tell what changes would happen to her. Although, now that she looked at it, her eyes did shine a bit. Well, whatever happened she would be fine with it so long as she could remain in this frame of mind. There were no regrets, none whatsoever and she simply beamed at the image of herself as she held her hands behind her and hummed while swaying from side to side. She was so distracted with her little joy that she did not notice Varren entering the room until he had his hands on her shoulders.

“Enjoying yourself?" He said quietly.

While she still blushed, she didn't hop from his sudden intrusion and instead placed her hands on his while nodding, “Yes. I feel much better than I did before, but I honestly expected something a bit different. You think there are more changes to come?"

He chuckled, “You were given a choice, were you not? I unmade myself and became something different. If you were satisfied with who you were then perhaps you have simply been given more of you. I feel as though we should both be more concerned about what has reached and touched us, but it doesn't feel bad, does it?"

She looked toward him with a big smile and leaned against him while shaking her head, “No, not at all."

His arms looped around her body slowly, that gentle chill of his form melding perfectly with her warmth. He then muttered, “It is getting close to evening. We should get you on a carriage back home."

Mia closed her eyes before shaking her head again. She turned around slowly and looked at him while placing her digits onto his chest, “No. First I want to celebrate this. Let me be yours again."

Had he simply forgotten his clothes, or were the other staff accustomed to him being in the nude? Regardless, she placed her hand atop his shaft and smiled as it grew, smiled as she heard him respond to her quietly, “Are you sure?"

She touched his cheek and drew him in close for a kiss while stroking his cock to give her answer. What she had felt before was a thrumming concern and fear that she would not be able to satisfy him, and that had slowly been cast aside by the constant grinding of his shaft inside of her, by his need engulfing her until she had no choice to admit that she had been doing exactly as he desired. Mia slipped back from the kiss and slipped down onto her knees. She had said that she had wanted to rush their first encounter by using her mouth, but in part, she had offered that because she wanted to give him a taste. Mia could still feel embarrassed and felt as such when she recalled that there was more than one actor in this performance. As she looked up, she simply saw him smiling and she felt his hand brushing through her hair as if in approval of what she was doing. Sighing happily, she placed her lips against the side of his shaft and began to kiss along the length. It didn't take long for it to harden, and soon her tongue was out and dragging up and down his beautiful twitching member. There was a lovely scent to him, there always was. Something like mulled spice and something sweet. She moved her tongue to his balls where she held them with a hand underneath as she lapped at the surface. Before she had been entirely in his thrall, entirely his alone, but she could feel true joy tickling through every facet of her body. However, whenever she looked up and saw his eyes peering down at her, she couldn't help but melt just a bit. Oh yes, she was very much still herself.

“Such a sweet sound I hear from you." He said quietly bringing a shiver down her spine as she suckled on one of his balls, “You and I will plan a performance that will introduce you as my partner in crime, so to speak. With our sound combined, this world will witness something truly beautiful."

Mia brought her mouth away from his balls to breathe out while her hand slid across his shaft, “I would love that, but for now can you please sit on the bed? Let me really enjoy this, let me take charge of this concert of ours."

Varren laughed, “Since you asked so nicely, of course."

He sat back and she moved up to join him by nearly throwing herself onto his lap with her arms looped around his back and her face pressed against his chest. She grinned like a fool and brought her hips into place. Varren gave a hand by steadying his shaft in the right place, so all she had to do was lower herself to feel him entering her. She sighed aloud and threw her head back, her body trembling while she drank in the feeling of being filled by his presence physically and mentally. He had been rough with her near the end, but right now she wanted to take it nice and slow, her hips rolling downward before coming up, her hands feeling over his back. There were parts of his body that definitely felt inhuman, but he didn't feel like a monster to her. Smooth parts here and there like glossy armor, and others that simply felt like skin with their fair share of hairy parts. She had been too embarrassed to look at him properly before, too embarrassed to see him as he was, but now she could feel him while looking past propriety and her own silliness. That part of her still existed. She still felt her cheeks burn as she thought of his shaft bouncing inside of her, as she looked at his chest and body, but her desire and love kept her from letting those other little things bother her as much. One day she would find out what Varren had liberated himself from. Perhaps he remembered, or perhaps he could be made to remember, but she wanted to know so she could accept that part of him as well that was most likely buried somewhere deep. Had he been someone important? Had he done something wrong? Or perhaps he had been crushed by his own mediocrity as she had? Regardless, she moved her lips to catch his in a deep kiss that dragged her deep into the moment as she began moving her hips faster.

She had given herself to him without protection under the guise that she was following his lead. Now it was her turn to show him that she wanted this. Yes, he could feel something in the air between them, and she was starting to feel that very same thing as well, starting to hear it with her ears as a little buzz or vibration that could barely be felt, but she wanted him to be able to see it with his eyes as well. She groaned to his chest and planted kisses along that spot, her hips picking up speed now as the pressure of her own pleasure began to build making it difficult to hold back. It was the excitement as well, the pure jubilee that kept her rolling her hips and pushing them down so quickly. His hands were now at her back where they held her gently, his mouth at her ear planting little kisses as if rewarding her for her performance. This change could not be called a corruption. She could only feel it as a blessing, as a true piece of divinity, and whatever happened she would not be able to change that perception. One more roll of the hips and she felt him begin to bottom out inside of her again. That virile seed warmed her to the core, and she shuddered as she kept her hips in place, as she felt every inch of his shaft throbbing inside of her. Mia finally let out a cry, a joyful noise that flowed lovingly into the air

“I love you." She said as she pressed her face to his body.

“I love you as well." He muttered over her head while holding her close to his body.

For some time they spent their moments locked together like that before the high wore off and it was time to recognize what needed to be done. There was a discreet area that had a bath for performers and she was more than welcome to use it. Thankfully, Varren hadn't torn any of her clothes. Honestly, she felt a little strange leaving. Varren stayed with her at the curb just outside of the music hall with his hands folded, and both of them remained entirely chaste as propriety demanded. She felt as if she should ignore it entirely and lean against him, but she knew there was sense in keeping this charade up for just a little bit longer. Perhaps they could be more open when something more official happened, if it happened at all, but for now, they waited together quietly beneath the stars. When the coach came, he helped her up into her seat and whispered something to her.

“Be well, my sweet star. Let us shower this world in a lovely symphony."

Once she was comfortable in her seat with her case over her lap, she looked toward him with a big smile and nodded. The door was shut and the carriage went on forward to take them to the Darian estate. Normally, she would sit there quietly, but instead, she pulled out her violin and began to play it knowing that the coach driver wouldn't mind a bit of music for the evening. She didn't feel any weird shame in doing it either, didn't care that it might be considered annoying. If the man at the front didn't want to hear her, then he could simply say so. To make music that would shower the world in a symphony, to be able to shine above all others as something truly beautiful. She found herself awash with joy at the prospect and couldn't help but think of her own ideas to add. Maybe he would accept them, maybe he would reject them, but she was certain that he would be joyful that she had them at all.

When they arrived at the estate's gates, her father was pacing back and forth. She got out of the carriage and thanked the driver who had already been paid. The carriage trod off and she tugged along her case over her shoulder. Once the carriage was out of sight, her father asked, “Well? Why are you here so late? You could have sent someone to let me know."

For once, she did not wilt under his gaze and instead simply inclined her head respectfully and said, “We were practicing father, and got a bit lost in it. I'll admit, I was the one who pushed for more and more. You see, I really enjoyed myself, truly enjoyed myself for once. Varren was a very good teacher and a peer at that, and I'll be happy to keep on playing for him. Of course, don't expect me to sit still either. I'll still be trying all sorts of things besides accepting men who couldn't court a sitting fowl."

Her father blinked for a few moments before coughing, “Pardon me? Are you saying that the men I send you are lacking?"

“Yes." She said with a nod, “More than that, I've found a good occupation that I'm sure will be fantastic for us."

This was what she could offer him. She hadn't gotten rid of who she was, so she still felt some sort of attachment to her family, so she could at the very least let them benefit from what she was doing, but only if they accepted her. Quietly, her father muttered, “It seems you are confident about this, and more than that, it has emboldened you. You've always been fluttering around doing one thing or another. Never truly settling. A partnership would give our family a much better connection, but if you feel this is good then perhaps there is some merit to that. We'll see as Varren's business grows. Don't think I'll stop sending you suitors, though."

Mia couldn't help but laugh as she gave her father a surprise one-armed embrace, “I wouldn't have it any other way! How else could I practice my verbal fencing? Though, try to give me some men that are a bit better with their words and feelings. If they can't even say what they want, how do they expect me to follow suit?"

When all her father did was return her embrace with a little pat on the back, and a nod, she beamed at him before heading on inside the estate leaving him under the moon absolutely in her dust. Yes, she would find a way forward without breaking her family to bits. There would be some reconsiderations to make, should they try to stop her, but for now she would continue on with this and make it official what she desired. She wanted to marry Varren Castille and become a musician, one that would have royalty from other nations swooning and bring divinity back to this world.

It was a week from that point when her first appearance as a performer came. The crowds had rushed once they heard Varren Castille had another recital to give, a duet of all things as well. The people flooded through the music hall and into the amphitheater, the lights dimmed and the stage darkened. When all were seated and the doors were shut, the lights flicked off all at once leaving the entire amphitheater in the dark. A spotlight turned on with a loud metallic click and in the center of the light were Varren Castille and Mia. The crowd clapped while the pair bowed, and it seemed that many had their eyes on the newcomer. Mia sported a black and red dress that frilled near the hem with black tights. Her hair was tied in a tail like Varren's in a ribbon and in her hands she held her instrument and bow. There were comments on how short her dress was, comments on the fact that she stood so boldly when they had heard the Darian girl was a meek flower. She shut them all up that night.

Motes of light floated through the air on invisible wires as they both began to play. Piano and violin struck out together with a lone whine that kept on rising and rising. Once again, the people were in thrall of this performance, but this time it seemed different. There were eyes in the crowd that genuinely began to glow as the song seemed to pour out a vibration that called to people's hearts to let it all loose. Mia played with her eyes shut, and Varren watched her with a big smile as his fingers moved along the keys. The lights continued to float into the air, continued to grow, and travel along the length of silk that soon could be visible among the lights. The web had been weaved, and all in attendance watched enthralled by what they heard, by what they felt. Under the roar of the crowd when the duet had finished, under the lights that they had made together. Varren rose and Mia bowed deep to the crowd. They both looked out at the world vibrating with joy, and they could feel that longing growing, that longing to join a world unbound. Loving divinity and corruption would kiss this land soon enough, but that longing would keep them safe.

The curtains closed on the evening and stage, the crowds cheering dying off, and Mia threw herself into Varren's arms. She kissed him over and over again, and he spun her with a laugh before bringing her into his embrace to keep that kiss locked together. Whatever happened, whatever their music made, it didn't matter so long as they were together and so long as they could continue creating. Varren felt as though he should start looking for more talent, more people with the right type of longing for this sort of thing, but he couldn't pull away from the girl in his arms. He loved this passionate and burning star she had become! She still pulled away and flushed, a hand on her cheek as she ran through a stammering apology at her outburst, but he held her tight and pressed his cheek to hers with a small smile. This joy had never been part of his life before he had been unmade, and maybe someday he would share with her just how pathetic that life had been, but right now he wanted to enjoy this time with her.

“I thought only that you would be something beautiful for the stage and lovely to take as my own, but I see now that my heart has become quite attached to you." He said quietly.

Her cheeks flushed with that lovely rose color as she chuckled, “Is that so?"

He nodded and took her hand gingerly in his own and brought it to his mouth as he muttered, “So then, I wonder if you will allow me another scheme, another plan. One that has nothing to do with our music. It is an indulgent request, one that I am not prepared for either, but I still wish to put it forth?"

Mia blinked and asked quietly while staring at him, “And what would that be?"

Varren pressed his forehead to hers before he spoke while kneeling down, “Take all the time in the world to think about this, and tomorrow your answer might change, but my heart tells me with its particular song that this is right. I want you to be mine and I want to be yours. My scheme is a plan to convince your family that I am worthy of your hand, but if you should have me; Mia Darian, would you marry me?"

Her eyes grew wide, her hand shaking in his until she threw herself into him again nearly toppling him over as she held his head tight and laughed, “Of course! Of course, I'll marry you! Of course, I'll scheme with you for a way to convince my pig-headed family. There is nothing more that I would love."

And so they rose together to let their lips lock again behind the stage as the sound of the audience died away leaving only the beating of their hearts. They would need to separate soon, but for now, they sunk to one another and allowed themselves this sweet moment. Nothing could ruin this for them at this moment. Propriety be damned. When they departed to Varren's dressing room, they did so in order to discuss their plans for the future with smirks and grins, knowing that their mischief would eventually lead to trouble, but that was the fun part.