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“Her name is Esme. Father, why are you asking about her?”
Magnus glanced at his mother, who was fully absorbed in the music, then back at his father. He figured the old man might have taken a liking to the violinist.
“I’m just curious. After the performance, ask her to come see me.”
“Alright, but I’ll arrange for her to meet you in private. Don’t want to upset Mother.”
“That’s fine.”
When Magnus returned to his seat, Queen Heather leaned in and asked, “What did your father want?”
“Nothing much. He just said the European Royal Philharmonic was brilliant.”
Magnus didn’t mention anything about Esme. Some things were best kept between father and son.
“Indeed. It was spectacular.”
Heather smiled at her son. “I didn’t expect you to invite the European Royal Philharmonic. That was very thoughtful.”
“I know how much you love their performances. You’re one of their biggest fans. I just wanted to make you happy–did it work?”
“It did. Very much sò!”
Heather glanced toward the stage, watching the pianist with a soft, almost girlish look in her eyes.
Everyone assumed she adored the orchestra, but the truth was, what she really adored was the elegant and talented piano prince,
Federico.
Federico was immersed in the music, and from his vantage point at the piano, he could see Caitlin perfectly.
They played in harmony, their musical chemistry seamless. This had been a long–awaited dream for Federico–to perform with Caitlin. Now , it was finally coming true.
The performance continued in full splendor. After more than an hour, the concert concluded to thunderous applause.
The audience was captivated, many moved by the music’s emotional depth and sheer artistry.
The performers all stood as the conductor led the orchestra in a formal bow toward the royal throne.
King Leif VI and Queen Heather praised the orchestra with sincere admiration.
Afterward, the performers were escorted out of the ball and back to the reception room to pack up.
With the performance over, the banquet also came to an end. Guests began to leave the palace.
As Leif VI was wheeled away, he glanced at Magnus, who gave him a slight nod in understanding.
Back in the reception room, members of the orchestra gathered their belongings.
A royal guard soon entered the room.
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“Is Miss Esme here?”
Everyone turned to Caitlin. She looked up, locking eyes with the guard. “I’m Esme. What is it?”
“His Royal Highness would like to see you. It won’t take long.”
The other musicians lit up with envy.
“Esme, this is your chance! If the prince likes you, you could end up a princess!” one of the women whispered, half–joking.
Others shared the sentiment, mistaking this for a romantic encounter.
But only Federico and the conductor knew this could be serious–possibly dangerous.
Federico stepped forward protectively. “May I ask why His Highness wants to see her?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know. Please come with me quickly. We don’t want to keep the prince waiting.”
Caitlin glanced at Federico. He looked uneasy.
“I’ll go,” she said firmly. “If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility.”
She was making it clear: if her identity were exposed, she would protect the orchestra and Federico from all consequences.
“But-”
“Enough. I’ll be fine.”
Caitlin slipped her mask back on and followed the guard out.
Federico and the conductor stayed behind, worried. They agreed to wait for her before leaving the palace.
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The corridors of the royal palace were lined with priceless paintings and artifacts. Caitlin followed the guard silently, taking in the grandeur.
Eventually, the guard led her into an ornate parlor. Magnus wasn’t there.
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“You may wait here. His Highness will join you shortly,” the guard said before stepping out.
Caitlin sat down on a vintage sofa, glancing around the room.
Her eyes caught a carved wooden table with a delicate antique vase, filled with Heather flowers–the national bloom of Saint City.
She also noticed that the walls were decorated with motifs of the same flower. Clearly, Queen Heather was deeply cherished here.
She was still admiring the decor when the door creaked open again.
But it wasn’t Prince Magnus who entered.
It was King Leif VI, seated in a wheelchair,
Caitlin rose immediately and bowed. “Your Majesty”
“No need for formalities.”
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He waved off the guards, who promptly exited the room. He wheeled himself forward, stopping a couple meters from her.
Leif VI studied her with curiosity. Caitlin also quietly observed him.
His expression was stern, composed, but there was a natural aura of authority around him.
Strangely, something about his face felt… familiar.
But that couldn’t be. She was certain they had never met before.
Still, she couldn’t help but glance at his wheelchair. To see a man of such stature forced into one at his age–there was something tragic about it.
The silence stretched. Caitlin finally broke it. “Your Majesty, they told me it was the prince who wished to see me. Why is it you instead?”
“I asked him to bring you.”
He was blunt, his voice low but clear.
“You wanted to see me? May I ask why?”
Leif VI hadn’t yet decided what he believed. He simply wanted to see her face, to be sure.
“Your violin performance was excellent,” he said. “Forgive me for being direct–but may I see your face?”
Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat.
Was this it? Was she about to be exposed? Was this not about the music at all, but some twisted interest from the king himself?
But then she thought again. He was in a wheelchair. That didn’t make sense.
And she wasn’t even wearing her real face. So even if he saw it, it wouldn’t mean anything.
She nodded and slowly removed the mask.
Leif VI stared at her feature–plain, ordinary, completely unlike the face in his memory.
No, this girl wasn’t her.
The only similarity was that both played the violin.
He had let his imagination get the better of him,
The woman he remembered had been gone for years.
How could she possibly still be alive?
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Would you play one more piece for me?”
Caitlin hesitated “I didn’t bring my violin with me.”
“I’ve had one prepared.”
He signaled to the door. A guard entered and placed a violin case on the table.
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Caitlin stepped forward, opened it, and found an exquisitely crafted violin nestled inside.
It was clearly a rare collector’s piece, handcrafted with meticulous detail.
Etched on the body in elegant French script were the initials L.L.K.
Caitlin frowned. She had never heard of a violin brand or luthier by those initials.
What did L.L.K.** stand for?
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