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Chapter 3 - The Enchanting Smile

The morning sun seeped through Edric's chamber window, yet its light felt cold, unable to dispel the sunflower field from his dreams. "Who are you, mysterious woman so captivating? I… I truly wish to meet you," he murmured softly, his voice barely audible, a whisper that was more a sigh of burning longing. The wilting rose on his small table, which he had brought from the alley behind the Concert Hall, seemed to be the only tangible proof of his new obsession. The information Thomas had provided yesterday, after his initial search efforts, was simply insufficient to satisfy Edric's fervent desire. He knew, it would never be enough. His heart, now consumed by a feverish yearning, could no longer wait. He had to find the woman himself.

The decision simmered in his mind, overriding every rational consideration. Edric Sebastian Thornleigh was a jewel of society, the fiancé of the graceful Lady Lilian, son of the esteemed Maestro Alaric Thornleigh. If he were seen infiltrating the city's slums for an unknown woman—a mere servant from the concert hall, no less—it would be a scandal that would shatter his reputation and, more importantly, his family's good name. The popularity and status so meticulously built would crumble instantly. Yet, the allure emanating from the woman's eyes, the promise hinted in her dream laughter, felt far stronger than the threat of social ruin.

He needed a disguise.

Edric summoned Thomas, who had just returned from another morning errand. "Thomas, I need your assistance." There was a note of urgency in Edric's voice that Thomas rarely heard. "I need ordinary clothes. Ones that won't draw attention. Belonging to a... struggling student, or a street musician."

Thomas looked at his master with a slight surprise. "For what purpose, Master Edric? Do you intend...?"

"No questions," Edric cut him off, his voice now cold and firm. "Just do it. Ensure no one learns of this from you. This is a secret between us."

Thomas, whose loyalty was beyond question, merely nodded. "Yes, Master. My lips are sealed," Thomas promised, his expression serious.

With an uncharacteristically rapid heartbeat, Edric slipped out of the Thornleigh residence through a seldom-used side door. The morning air was cold and damp, a stark contrast to the warmth and luxury he left behind. He walked along the rough cobblestone streets, passing rows of newly opened shops and bustling vendor carts. This was a side of the city he rarely frequented, a world filled with noisy clamor, the aroma of spices, and hard-worn faces. In contrast to the Montaigne Concert Hall of last night, here, he was merely one among many. And he liked it. There was a strange freedom in this anonymity. The freedom to search.

He headed towards the area near the Concert Hall, the place where he had seen the woman disappear. He scoured the narrow alleys, his eyes scanning every corner, every face. He saw women in simple attire, children running, hurrying workmen. But there was no trace of the woman. The street felt no different from any other alley. The quill and rose, which he now kept in his inner cloak pocket, felt like futile clues amidst a sea of unknown faces. Every passing minute without result added to his growing frustration and obsession. He began to doubt his own memory. Was the woman truly real, or was she merely an illusion born from his unquenchable thirst?

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That day passed fruitlessly, every alley scoured, every face scanned, adding only another layer of thick disappointment. Until evening arrived, enveloping the city in a gray shroud and casting dim light from street lanterns. Exhausted, with aching shoulders and weary feet, Edric found himself before a dimly lit local bar, tucked away in a remote corner of the city he rarely ventured into. An old signboard above the door creaked softly in the wind, and inside, rough laughter and the mingled aromas of ale and tobacco greeted him. Not a place a Thornleigh would usually frequent, even in disguise. Yet, his thirst—not just physical, but a thirst for answers—felt too urgent to care.

He entered, found a spot in a corner, and ordered a cheap ale from the indifferent barkeep. The off-key music from a lute in the corner grated on his ears, a dissonance disturbing the perfect melodies he always sought. He gulped down his drink, his eyes drifting aimlessly.

Suddenly, a wooden door at the back of the bar, leading to a private room, opened. Edric turned. From beyond the threshold, a woman stepped out. Her movements were calm, even amidst the bar's crude bustle. Her attire was still simple, yet somehow, in the dim light, she exuded a different aura, as if she were the only star in that dark night.

Edric's heart pounded, ignoring the rhythmic beat usually accompanying his piano. His eyes widened, his breath caught. The woman. Celia.

Celia did not look directly at Edric. She merely moved her lips, forming a small, mysterious, almost imperceptible smile, as if she knew hidden secrets of the world. That smile was beautifully etched on her face, slowly curving, and was seemingly directed only at the crowd before her, yet somehow, it felt as if it were meant solely for Edric. It was the captivating smile, a silent promise, an unspoken invitation that instantly tore down Edric's fortress of rationality.

The woman walked slowly towards the bar's exit, without another glance back. Edric was transfixed, the glass of ale in his hand frozen. She was real. She existed. She was not an illusion from his dream. The feverish desire now surged through him with a thousand times its previous strength. He tossed a few coins onto the table, not caring for the change, and immediately stood up.

He had to follow her. Now.

As Edric stepped outside, the night air felt colder, but he did not perceive it. Celia was already several paces ahead of him, walking down the street that was now growing busy with pedestrians and carriages. Edric quickened his pace, trying to maintain a discreet distance so as not to appear overtly chasing her, yet not lose sight of her either. The crowd became both friend and foe. He continued to follow, moving past street vendors, fruit carts, and clusters of people just emerging from taverns.

However, amidst the hustle and bustle, Celia's figure suddenly vanished. As if she melted into the shadows. Edric stopped, breathless, his eyes scanning frantically. No. She couldn't have disappeared again. He searched every small alley, every crack between buildings, but Celia had vanished without a trace, as if she were merely a fleeting illusion deliberately presented for him.

Disappointment pierced him, sharper than the day's frustration. He had seen her, almost spoken to her, felt her presence. Yet, he had lost her again. Edric leaned against a cold stone wall, panting. But amidst his disappointment, a new truth struck him: that smile. Celia's smile. It was real. The woman's existence was real. And his maddening desire now had proof. He would find her, no matter how long or how far he had to chase that shadow.

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