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A faint, distant humming he hadn’t noticed until now tickled his ears. It sounded like…

Xerxes glanced toward his bedroom door instead.

Music.

He didn’t bother getting dressed. He grabbed a silk robe and pulled it around himself as he headed from his room, grateful he’d sent his guards away earlier. He felt like a part of himself had fallen out of his head while he was asleep, leaving an empty space in his mind. He rubbed his temples and scratched behind his ear.

What was that noise? It was like the plucking of strings, a sweet melody that spilled into the hallways. And with the sound came… utter quiet.

How could music bring quietness? It didn’t make sense. Also—where were his voices, and why didn’t they care about what he was doing at this moment?

Xerxes padded over the cold stone, following the music around a bend. His heart picked up speed as he drew closer. He jogged the last few steps to the Celestial Divinities temple to catch the musician before he or she could disappear.

He swung around the temple entrance, grabbing the arch frame to keep himself from barging in and startling whoever was inside. He pressed a hand against his chest where his heart drummed along to the music’s rhythm, his gaze settling on a young woman with long, dark hair. She faced the city, strumming a harp beneath the silver moon.

Xerxes nearly ran for her—grabbed her, shook her, demanded to know how she was doing it, how her music could bring silence to his mind. But when she tilted her head ever so slightly to reach the furthest string, Xerxes recoiled into himself, drawing back into the arched frame and slumping against it with his shoulder.

It was Estheryn Electus. The maiden who’draised a weaponat him.

Her hands glided along the instrument as she offered a tribute to the statues of the Celestial Divinities in the temple. Though, she didn’t cast the statues a single glance.

She must not have noticed he was there.

Xerxes stood straight, eyeing her back. She wore a common shirt, ripped at the side and stained with red where Damon’s blade had found her. Xerxes wondered why she hadn’t changed into her nightdress yet, why she was here instead of sleeping.

His mouth twisted to the side. Why had he chosen to save this woman against Belorme’s wishes at the pool? Was it because her presence was Xerxes’s choice, not the Intelligentsia’s? That was motivation enough. But that hadn’t been the only thought in his head when he’d stood against Belorme. Estheryn had heard his voices, hadn’t she? She told them to be quiet, and they’d obeyed.

Estheryn paused her playing and lifted her hand, glancing at a chipped nail. The second she did, Xerxes gasped and grabbed the side of his head.

“She must die!”

“Do it now!”

“Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!”

“Don’t stop!” Xerxes called into the temple, and Estheryn spun around on her knees. She stared, looking him over with wide eyes, her gaze snagging on his nightclothes. She didn’t keep playing.

Xerxes became aware of his robe hanging half open, his white knuckles gripping the arch frame, the pleading in his voice. He shrank back a step. Then he swallowed. “Never mind.” He swept back out of the temple, back around the bend, back into the hallway. He kept a steady hand on the wall as he caught his breath.

“Go back in there.”

“Destroy that woman!”

Xerxes pinched his eyes closed. A shameful hunger filled his belly, worse than before. He inhaled, exhaled, stumbling toward his room, the walls tipping left and right as he put one foot in front of the other.

He made it by the grace of the Divinities. He slammed his door behind him as he dragged his feet toward his bed. He should have gone downstairs. He should have found a fruit, but the headache was so terrible he wasn’t sure he’d make it that far.

Xerxes grabbed his bedpost for support. Sweat tickled his hairline, the cold rivers of water brushing over his flesh. He wanted to die.

There was a knock on his door. He ignored it.

When the door creaked opened, Xerxes set his jaw. “I’ll have you executed for entering my chambers without invitation…” His words fell off when he turned back and saw her there.

Estheryn Electus was in his room. Holding her harp.

The door drifted closed behind her.

Xerxes’s lips peeled apart as he faced her fully. “You’re brave,” he remarked, not sure if it was a threat.