The Music Box

By Meredith Mansfield

When her bridegroom won't talk to her or even look at her, Liri thinks her betrothal is a disaster. She never considers that Rusten might be trying to hide his scarred face from her. 

Rather than go through with the marriage, she runs away--right into the arms of the very man she's supposed to marry and finds love in the place she least expects.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meredith Mansfield
• Release date: Mar 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393580140

Book preview

THE MUSIC BOX

By Meredith Mansfield

Copyright 2012 Meredith Mansfield

Kindle Edition

Cover Image:

© Master1305 | Dreamstime.com - Two Young Ballet Dancers Practicing.

Scroll Glyph

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Betrothal

Chapter 2: Escape

Chapter 3: Rusten

Chapter 4: A Fine Mess

Epilogue

Chapter 1: Betrothal

Liri paced across her darkened room. Everyone else was sensibly napping during the hottest part of the day, but there wasn’t anything Liri wanted less than to fall asleep. She didn’t even dare lie down for fear she’d doze off and have the same nightmare again. The image of Eralan bound and tortured was still just behind her eyelids if she closed her eyes too long.

As his sister, Liri had helped prepare Eralan’s body for burial. She’d wanted to spare his widow and she was very glad she had. Jenae didn’t need to see that. Liri had seen all of his wounds and the other marks, enough to know the truth. Eralan’s had not been a clean warrior’s death on the battlefield. He’d been tortured to death. And now, scenes of what Eralan must have endured haunted Liri’s dreams.

She needed movement, more than she could get in this confined space. The room was meant for sleeping and dressing, little more than ten paces from door to window. With the bed, armoire, and dresser, certainly not enough room to dance, even if the activity wasn’t sure to waken someone. Sometimes when she danced, Liri could lose herself in the music and shut out everything else.

Her pacing took her back to the window. None of the rooms in this wing were large, but hers was one of the best, with a window that looked out on the corner of the garden walled off for the private use of the princesses. There was a quiet spot out there where she’d have plenty of room and wouldn’t disturb anyone.

Liri picked up her music box and padded silently down the corridor. The box had been her brother’s last gift to her, less than a sevenday before his death. Odd that it should be her greatest comfort now. For a moment, she stroked the smooth, inlaid wood, feeling its texture. It must have been an expensive gift, because it undeniably had a touch of magic bound within it. One side of Liri’s mouth quirked up. Eralan had joked that the music box was supposed to help her find her true love and she’d laughed at him for his naïveté.

Falling in love was not something to be desired for a princess. Liri wouldn’t be allowed to choose her husband, after all. Her marriage would be used to formalize some alliance for her father. When that day came, even falling in love with her own husband would be a risk. Their mother’s fate proved that. Love was a weakness that other players of the Game could exploit.

More than anything, Liri wanted out of the cut-throat political Game played among the royal women. That was a vain hope—or it had been. As the sister of the heir, her marriage would have had import. She could only have been married to a king or a princely heir as the living representation of a treaty. Such men had need of many alliances and, thus, many wives to cement them. That was the very hotbed that bred all the underground jealousy and political manipulation of the Game.

Now, there might be just a chance, though. Her father needed a new general for his armies now that both his sons were dead, preferably someone who wouldn’t be a rival for the young heir—assuming that either Jenae’s unborn baby was a boy or that Father got himself another son. Either way, the heir would be young, so a general who had no aspirations to the kingship would be best. Such a man would depend on his king’s alliances and not need too many of his own. She could be happy if her father chose someone like that for her. Love didn’t have to come into it.

With that thought, Liri reached the quiet spot in the garden she’d been heading for, a small paved area near the pool and under the shade of a large elm tree. She opened the music box. The slight glow of the empty interior was difficult to see in the sunlight, but the pretty little love song that was the box’s default tune played clearly in the silence. The music box did seem to have one virtue at least: when she danced to its tunes, she could become the music and forget everything else.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d missed the midday meal while helping Jenae prepare for her baby. Well, her brother’s widow and their unborn child were more important and she could forget even her hunger when she danced. She’d send for something to eat when she finished here.

I wish to dance the Hedonra, Liri said.

The haunting tune of the Hedonra started, emanating from the empty box, and Liri put her heart and her thoughts into the dance. A tiny figure appeared inside, stepping through the dance along with her. It was the most difficult dance she knew, requiring all her concentration. She stumbled several times, made clumsy by the lack of sleep. By the time Liri was done, she was sticky with sweat and dizzy.

A dip in the pool would wash off the sweat and banish the dizziness. Liri dropped her sticky chemise at the edge of the pool and plunged in. Lying back in the sun-warmed water to wet her hair, she felt the tips of her fingers as she worked them through her hair and decided to spend some time practicing with her harp soon. She’d let that go so long, she’d almost lost her finger calluses.

Liri had just begun trying to work the tangles out of her dark mass of unruly curls when she heard footsteps hurrying along the path. She looked up as the princesses’ governess puffed around the corner of the hedge.

Princess Malirina, there you are. I’ve been looking high and low for you.

Liri couldn’t think when she’d seen Padima this nervous. Her heart sank. Not more bad news. What is it?

Your father has important guests. He has commanded your presence in the best receiving parlor in an hour. Padima huffed a sigh. And here you are with your hair all wet. That’ll take hours to dry, not to mention make presentable.

Disdaining the steps on the far side of the pool, Liri heaved herself up, wrapped a towel around herself and set off back to her room.

~~~

Since Padima had specified important guests, Liri put on the dark crimson gown that Father always said set off her complexion. She pulled her hair