The afternoon hours dragged so slowly for Edric. Every chime of the city tower seemed to deliberately drag time, testing his patience. Piano practice felt discordant, conversations with servants sounded like distant murmurs, and preparations for his Paris concert, which should have excited him, now felt like mere empty obligations. His mind, like an uncontrolled magnet, was constantly drawn to one point: The Old Forest Bridge. The promise of a meeting, spoken amidst Celia's fear last night, now became the only melody he longed for.
As dusk began to cloak the city in its dark purple mantle, Edric slipped out of the Thornleigh residence once again in his simple disguise. His steps felt lighter than usual, though the cold forest air had begun to bite at his skin. He walked along the winding, stony path, between rows of ancient, towering trees, their branches forming a dark tunnel occasionally pierced by lingering traces of twilight. The scent of damp earth and dead leaves pricked his nostrils, a stark contrast to the perfumes and powders of opulent halls.
The Old Forest Bridge, made of sturdy moss-covered stones, stretched over a small, babbling river, its sound like secret whispers in the silence. Edric arrived just as the first crescent moon began to peek from behind the clouds. A cold wind gently swept by, lifting strands of his long hair that had escaped from beneath his hat. He stood in the middle of the bridge, his eyes scanning the darkness on both sides of the forest, his ears catching every rustle of the wind or sound of nocturnal animals.
One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Time crawled. Doubt began to gnaw. Would Celia come? Was her fear greater than that promise? He was a Thornleigh, a celebrated pianist. He was accustomed to a world that revolved around him, where everyone came to him. Now, he waited. Waiting for a woman he himself didn't fully comprehend why he was so obsessed with. Dinner parties, a graceful fiancée, a promising career—all felt so distant, like a dream from another life. Here, beneath the shimmering stars that began to emerge, he was just a man waiting, his heart fixated on a fragile shadow.
Twenty minutes passed. Half an hour. Every rustle of leaves, every shifting shadow, made Edric's heart pound. He began to pace back and forth on the bridge, his hands clenched in his pockets. Frustration began to creep in, a familiar feeling reminiscent of his days of fruitless searching. Had he been played again? Was that smile, the laughter in his dream, just another trick aimed at him?
Almost an hour. Edric stopped, breathless, not from running, but from the turmoil of emotion. He was about to give up. He was about to turn and return to the world where he was the master of harmony. Yet, just as he turned, a soft voice, almost like a whisper of the wind, halted his steps.
"Master Thornleigh?"
Edric turned. On the other side of the bridge, beneath the shade of a towering old tree, stood a woman. The moonlight, which had just parted the clouds, illuminated her figure, cloaking her in a silver shroud. She wore a simple white cotton dress, which appeared so clean and contrasted starkly with the darkness of the surrounding forest. Her long, dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, framing a face adorned with a faint smile, yet filled with weariness.
Celia.
In that instant, Edric's frustration and weariness vanished without a trace. It was as if the time he had spent waiting, almost an hour of uncertainty, was but a mere fleeting moment. His heart swelled with an overflowing wave of joy, a certainty that Celia would come bubbling within him. This woman, who always appeared like an illusion, now stood before him, real, so beautiful under the moonlight, like a forest fairy lost from a fairytale.
"Celia," Edric's voice caught, softer than he thought it would be. He stepped closer, slowly, as if afraid to startle the fragile figure away. "You came."
Celia nodded gently, her gaze still showing hesitation, yet with a touch of relief. She bowed respectfully. "Forgive me, Master Thornleigh. I know you have waited long." She pointed to her honey basket, still hanging from her arm. "I just delivered the last order to the end of the village. The journey was quite long."
Edric smiled, his smile now genuine and warm, emanating from within. "It's alright. Waiting for you felt like only a moment, Miss Celia. I knew you would come." The conviction in his voice was so strong, as if he had always known this was destiny. "I am so glad you came."
Celia returned his gaze, her faint smile curving a little deeper. There was a touch of surprise and perhaps something else in her eyes—like recognition, or perhaps a burden. The night wind rustled between them, carrying the scent of wild flowers from the forest, mingled with the sweet aroma of honey from Celia's basket. That night, on the ancient bridge in the middle of the forest, beneath the whispers of the moon, a conversation that would change destiny was about to begin.
Edric stepped closer, until the distance between them was only as wide as the river below the bridge. He looked into Celia's eyes, trying to read the depth he had seen at the Concert Hall. "I... I must know," he said, his voice now urgent. "Who are you, Celia? Why was your gaze that night so different? Why are you the only one who can make my perfect world feel... empty?"
Celia lowered her gaze, her eyes fixed on the river flowing beneath them. "I am merely a honey deliverywoman, Master Thornleigh. My life is simple, filled with work and... obligations. There is nothing special about me, and nothing you need to know." Her voice was soft, yet it held a hidden sadness, like a minor melody woven into perfection.
"Don't lie to me," Edric said, his tone now firm, yet without anger. He had seen too much falsehood in his life not to recognize the honesty—or at least, the suffering—he felt from Celia. "Your eyes. There is the same longing there, a longing I recognize in myself. A thirst for something more. Do you feel it too?"
Celia looked up, her eyes meeting Edric's. For the first time, there was no clear fear. Only understanding. "This world... Master Edric," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the murmur of the river. "This world is full of boundaries. Boundaries made by society, by fate, by... obligations. For some, it is a beautiful golden cage. For others, it is a bottomless abyss." She glanced at Edric, a faint, almost imperceptible smile crossing her lips. "However, there are souls that cannot be bound. Souls that thirst for absolute freedom, for true power. They seek a path beyond the established limits."
Edric listened, every word from Celia soaking into him like rainwater into dry soil. "You... you understand," he murmured, as if finding a piece of a long-lost puzzle. "I've always felt something was missing, an emptiness behind every applause, every perfect melody. As if there was a soul that couldn't be filled by all of it. I feel trapped in this golden cage, unable to do anything I truly desire." He stepped even closer, until he could feel Celia's breath. "Now, I know I'm not mad. I know I'm not the only one who feels this." Edric stared directly into Celia's eyes. "Celia... my heart is pounding right now, being this close to you. Do you feel it too? The same beat?"
Celia averted her face. Her hand, still clutching the honey basket, trembled faintly. She took a deep breath, as if gathering every last shred of courage. When she turned back, her eyes were filled with profound longing, a performance so convincing, almost perfect. "Yes, Master Edric. My heart... my heart also pounds when I am this close to you... it truly makes me feel alive." Her voice trembled, sounding so sincere. "But... but such feelings are impossible. I am merely a honey deliverywoman. You are a Thornleigh. Our worlds are too different. Fate will not allow it." She lowered her gaze, as if resigned to a cruel destiny.
Edric felt every word pierce him. However, it was not a stab of pain, but a challenge, an irresistible pull. "Fate?" Edric repeated, his voice now filled with burning determination. He took another step forward, narrowing the distance between them even further. The scent of wild honey and something else, something ancient and intoxicating, wafted from her. "I don't care about any of that, Celia. I don't care about their world, about the destiny they've laid out. All I want is to be with you. I will do anything, break every rule, cross every boundary, just to be with you."
Edric looked into Celia's eyes, seeing a mix of fear and a kind of resignation now replaced by doubt and a hint of unconcealed joy. The desire that had gnawed at him for weeks now climaxed. Without another word, he leaned in, his hand gently touching Celia's cheek.
The moon shone brighter, bathing the stone bridge and the two figures upon it in silver light. Edric bent down, and his lips met Celia's. It was a burning kiss, merging the emptiness he had long felt with the promise of something new, something forbidden. An unspoken bond formed, stronger than social chains, more dangerous than the whispers of the Devil he had yet to recognize. That night, beneath the moonlight, above the murmuring river, the pianist finally surrendered to the forbidden symphony that had long called to him, stepping beyond the boundaries of harmony he had known.