Chapter Eight

Evan tried his best to hide the blood on his lip. Fiercely smudging on it with his fingers, licking it repeatedly with no success.

His pupils were still widened due to the brief moment of ineffable bliss. His mouth corners attempting to sketch a joyful grin, needing to be suppressed as soon as it became inevitably noticeable.

He had just had his very first kiss. Sensual, passionate, with a flawless man that had attracted him ever since he saw him…

But something was wrong. Suddenly, Evan felt a glimpse of remorse. As if he were now tainted. Nothing should have happened the way it did… Feelings of mutual love and deep appreciation should have been there before they kissed, not only hunger for each other's lips.

This was not what Evan wanted, he wanted someone —a man to love him, not only to be desirable for him. Did the Royal Family know J.J was gay or bisexual in the first place? Did they approve it? Probably not in both cases…

Evan stood still when he got in the ballroom, seeing no one else than some staff members cleaning up the place. He felt alone, bleak. Inevitably, some tears of anguish slipped down his warm cheeks.

He sniffed, then, he turned around and left the ballroom once again, crying this time.

When he reached the open corridor again, he realized he didn't know the way to the staircase leading to the first floor nor the second one. So, with a low head, he walked in the small square in the middle of the corridors.

There was a stone bench next to the tree, it looked of a romanesque style and he sat down on it. Resting his chin on his knuckles, Evan began thinking and rewinding the very recent kissing scene.

He didn't know a lot about J.J, except he was a member of the Royal Family. He didn't look like Michel at all, so he guessed he might have been his cousin or even his half-brother —if King Antoine had had an affair with another lady in the past or an ex-spouse.

He also knew he was not only handsome but also physically strong and had a cunning personality; he was a quite intelligent and easygoing man.

J.J must have had a bunch of secret admirers and potential female suitors, yet he liked men. Evan wondered if he was also interested in women by any chance.

Evan didn't know practically anything about J.J, and J.J probably knew even less about him, yet for some reason, he was interested in him. Why him? Someone who was simply a descendant of English nobility, who didn't mean anything to Avevia, and even more, an engaged young man… Was he a casanova perhaps...?

A muffled sound of music interrupted his thoughts all of a sudden. It was a piano that was playing, and Evan could have sworn he knew the melody from somewhere…

Sol, Do, Re… Evan didn't know piano musical notes by heart, but… that emotional, nostalgic, and almost homesick melody… he could have sworn he had heard it somewhere else before…

He let himself get engulfed by the melody. Slightly closing his eyes, he let the music take him somewhere, anywhere it wanted to. As he always did when he listened to compositions he heard for the first time.

It was like an unconscious, involuntary coping mechanism to avoid the stress that remembering so many theories and fancy musical usages brought him by learning music. Yes, music was a quite difficult path. But it was because of moments like these he loved the path he chose so much. It was something simply ineffable, hard to comprehend for anyone not in touch with the art of music.

The synesthesia brought him to a quiet bedroom lit by the morning sunlight. The room was white, finely decorated, the outside of the window where the sun seeped through led to a magnificent beach letting out tranquil ocean sounds. The smell, the music reminded him of a particular scent. It smelt like freshly baked banana bread…

Then he remembered it. It was the original piano composition he heard in his dream.

He wanted to know who was playing it, he wanted to know if the person playing it was perhaps the one he'd love in the future. Back in his dream, he was somehow aware that the person playing that ethereal composition was his lover. Of course, he felt utterly curious.

Trying to follow the music, he sat up and began walking towards it. He took a turn on the northwestern wing, going through a formidable arch of strange gothic style (Evan kept finding some architectural elements that looked out of place for matching the palace's style, yet for some reason, he thought it was sort of cool nonetheless).

He arrived in a closed corridor dimly illuminated by the pale moonlight, with the same stone floor as the corridors surrounding the small square, but it was adorned by crimson and golden carpets and the walls were made of polished marble. The corridor also had small-sized chandeliers, but they weren't turned on.

The music became more audible each time. It didn't take Evan too long to realize the majestic sound came from a room at his left.

The door was wooden and huge, imposing with a bright white painting and full of gold details adorning the sides of it. It had a small window that partially revealed what perhaps was a private playroom.

He saw an opulent bar with a regal showcase of what seemed fancy and most probably quite expensive drinks, and a pool table in the middle. Yet he couldn't spot the piano nor the one playing the mysterious original piece he already began adoring.

Suddenly, the music stopped abruptly, which kind of upset Evan.

He wanted to keep listening to that incomplete masterpiece. It felt as if his ears were being given the sweetest treat ever. But most importantly, he wanted to find out who was playing it, the heavenly composition he had dreamt of…

But then he heard steps approaching the door, silent yet still audible to his ears. Coming closer each time...

Evan froze. There was no chance of running away right now…

What was he going to say to the stranger? That he heard them playing and his curiosity led him to eavesdrop? That he had heard the same composition in a dream where they were his lover so he assumed they might be preassigned to meet or something like that? That would be completely crazy, in both cases, he'd end up looking really bad-mannered and probably like a total loony.

He didn't have enough time to react. His cheeks turned beet red when the door opened and revealed Prince Michel standing at the other side.