The Last Storyteller (First Edition) | Page 42

And she did, gazing at him in wonder, as he played a lively melody that inspired by her dark fluttering eyes. When he finished, he leaned over to speak, but she quickly leapt to her feet. “I must go back to my quarters,” she said. “My master is waiting.” She dashed off before Raja could say another word. He wasn’t sure whether he ruined his chances with his queen or whether this was a new opportunity for him to get close to her. His fears were abated when she approached him the following day and sat by him again as he played his flute. They met like this for several weeks, Raja making new and more intricate melodies, as Rani listened rapturously, gazing at the sky. They never spoke, and any time Raja tried to engage her in a conversation, Rani would grab her master’s laundry and dash back to her quarters. Raja was flustered, but as long as his queen sat near him and inspired his music, he was content. One golden afternoon, as they watched the sunset while Raja played a soulful tune, he turned and blurted to her: “Rani, you are so beautiful.” She blushed with a shy, yet winsome smile. Her eyes flashed a shade of brown he knew, opening a window into the secrets her smile attempted to hide. But Raja lost his ability to speak; he always communicated through his flute, not through words. He turned pink and carried on playing without talking to her any further. It was then that Raja started to spend time alone in his dark city quarter – a place where he could be with his thoughts. He never imagined that real love c