Ah, Sweet Sound

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

Dressed in commoner’s garb of ragged breeches, a clean but very old looking tunic with black patched cloak over his shoulders and past their prime leather boots on his feet, Chase felt and looked very much like all the other lower classmen who wandered about the Square on this crisp winter’s morning. His hair wasn’t neatly held back with a tie but instead fell to the rim of his jaw and in his eyes further masking who he was to prying eyes.

Shop’s were opening as the crowds of bargain hunters and produce vendors began to barter. Their garbled voices rang into the air with the sound of cart wheels on cobbles and the occasional call of a carthorse to another.

Voice’s of bargainers began to rise with sun as midmorning approached. Crowds of people from every stage of life walked the Square, browsing the booths or leisurely talking with friends. The hustle and bustle of the day and kicked in full blast now, as every shop was open for business with customers browsing their products. The crowds began to take form into a sea of people, swaying and bucking into every direction as the water would in a great storm.

He rubbed his bare hands together briefly before blowing his hot breath into the cavern created by cupping his hands. His gaze navigated his surroundings before spotting a semi empty spot between a Mercantile and a sword smith’s booth where he was trying to sell old weapons others had given him on trade for a new blade. It wasn’t his ideal spot for setting up and playing for the people but it would have to do. It was to the side of the main commotion to avoid traffic jams if many stopped to listen to him play.

Standing momentarily awkward in the space, he pulled his prized procession from his cloak’s inner pocket. Opening the small wooden box he maneuvered each piece of the silver flute together into its final and majestic form. He placed the box at his feet, giving the hint the did appreciate tips. The money gathered today would go to a family in need of cash or if the case was rare into his pockets to give to his own family who was prospering from his profession in the Palace.

Sighing softly to himself, he licked his lips and brought the flute to his lips. His eyes closed as the notes rang out in clear harmony in the air. The tune was simple but very uplifting and caught the attention of many. A small crowd began to form as the tempo began to increase the tune grew more complicated with each note.

Free the notes sang into the air, as did his concerns of his life; of being caught dressed as a commoner; of whether or not his family would ever stop thinking of him as just a way to make money. His mind was empty except for the notes on a memorized song.

Tag: open
Muse Level: high
Muse Music: Flogging Molly

[Celvi Gray]

It had been one of those days for Celvi, when she felt like she couldn't breathe from the moment she first opened her eyes. Like a heavy blanket was lying on her chest, squeezing all air and life out of her, leaving her gasping and choking like a fish out of water.
It was creeping onto her, the dreaded and likewise loved 'Fay moment'.

She had tried to ignore it first, not wanting to arouse unwelcome attention, but the pressure increased until it was unbearable. So she had done it again: Sneaking away from Princess Christabel's quarters to her own room, grabbing her bow and her third-best cloak (to not stick out like a snowflake amongst hailstones, she would look like a normal merchantwoman now) and running as swiftly as possible towards the stables.

But good fortune wasn't with her today. Artano had injured his foreleg while kicking against the stall door this morning, seemingly as fidgety as herself. There was no use riding him.
What now? It was out of question turning back and swallowing the enormous need that build up inside her. If it could not be the River today, then maybe…

Without further ado, Celvi left the palace grounds and made for the town. It was not the same as being all by herself, breathing fresh air and letting out all the tension from of late. But it was better than nothing, and the thought how Aunt Dagmara would be appalled, had she known her niece was going to mingle with the common crowd, amused her.

So she made for the market, where the crowd would be thickest, and where there was the greatest chance of finding something to distract herself.
It was now close midday and the market was bustling with life. Sutlers cried out for attention, people were rushing by or examining the displayed goods. Ah, wonderful! All those trinkets and edibles, just waiting for someone to buy it. The tension washed away while the excitement of breaking out grew every minute.

Celvi had only just lifted the hood of her cloak over her head, as she heard faint music coming from the other side of the marketplace. There had to be a flute player somewhere!
Flutes always reminded her of Chase, and so she crept closer, moving with the crowd that slowly gathered around her.

The man with the flute stood there, seemingly fully absorbed in his own music. He looked like he was one of the poorer sort, though there was something oddly familiar about him. And he was good, no doubt of that, almost as good as Chase!
Hang on… Celvi craned her neck to get a better view at him over the head of some tall merchant blocking her way. The way this man held the flute… the way he moved his head… No! It wasn't possible! But yet, she realized with a pang of surprise, it was not someone like Chase, it was him!

Unsure of what to do she waited until he had finished a tune… then she made the last steps through the applauding crowd towards his little flute box, bended down and let a coin fall into it. Then she looked up at from below, flashing him a conspiratorial smile, while her heart pounded heavily.

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

The notes floated from the imaginary sheet music in his head to the air about playing with the emotions of those around him. All reasons for hate or to hustle was lost with his song, and that’s how Chase liked it. To see once quarreling neighbors now standing peacefully side by side. It was simply amazing how music, a item so untouchable yet so fragile, could do that to a person, calm their annoyances like the lamb did the lion.

As the tune came to a gentle and subtle end, his gaze focused on the crowd around him, taking in the smiling faces as a few dispersed in their individual ways, refreshed and calm. A few of the wealthier dropped coins into his flute’s case.

Not many, but a sufficient amount to buy a needy family a few scraggly chickens and some fresh vegetables from one of the vendors. This charitable act was his way of giving part of his fortune and luck to the class he came from without raising great disproval from those people of the Court and his family. He loved the sincere thanks he received when discretely giving his gifts to those he has chose to give to. A genuine thank you and not that stiff and formal kind he receives when delivering for the Queen.

A merchant woman came up to drop a coin in his case whom he gave a polite nod of thanks as he did every other, thinking nothing of her, until a very familiar smile graced her face. He thought nothing of the sense of knowing her for a brief moment, before it hit him hard in the gut causing him to inhale sharply. One of the Princess’s ladies in waiting had just stood before him! Had the smile been her way of acknowledging who he truly was or was he over reacting and her smile was just a polite smile.

Going with the latter for only a well trained eye could detect him through his disguise, he began to fret behind his calm mask to not alarm those around him of a certain mood change. Clamping hard on his tongue to stop from calling out to, oh what was her name? Cecile, no, Celia that wasn’t it. He hurriedly grasped up his flute case and the money within, closed it and set off after the cloaked woman. ‘Celvi! That was her name!’ he thought with pride on remembering on her name that had escaped his mind.

Barricading Chase from her was a few talkative folk who wanted to speak with him of his talent and other common talk. He rejected them politely saying he was running late for a meeting with mother. They accepted his excuse but without casting him a odd glance.

Once past the crowd he broke into a run to catch up with Celvi. He prepared to confront her and if necessarily beg on his knees for her not to tell everyone what he had been up to. He must of looked like a insane hermit, chasing after a wealthy appearing woman with his flute in one hand and the case in the other. A few stride behind her and bit out of breath, he broke down to a walk and called out, “Celvi, Wait!”

[Celvi Gray]

As soon as Celvi had smiled at him, she wished she had not. What a fool she was, really! What was she thinking to achieve anyway? There were only two options: One, which was the most likely, he didn't recognize her and just saw her as one of her listerners. What would she have achieved then? And Two, which would be the dreadful option, he would be angry at her for knowing his secret. Most likely he would never smile at her again then. Nothing achieved that way either!

With a still heavily pounding heart she turned away, leaving him with the other listeners, who now gathered around him, praising his skills and asking questions.
Why am I not shocked? She asked herself. Shocked about the sudden meeting, yes of course, but not shocked about seeing him here, in this state.
She should be appalled by the sheer thought of him dressing up as a commoner and betraying the rich of her money just to add on his salary.

But fact was she wasn't the least bit disgusted. Quite the contrary, she felt… reconfirmed. As if all it needed was that last bit of proof to show her what she already knew inside. That Chase was a different man from what he made others believe he was. But didn't that make him all the less suitable for her affection? A favoured messenger of the Queen could maybe be accepted as love interest. But a piper attracting crowds in the street – certainly not!

What was the use in thinking it over anyway, she thought and heaved a heavy, sad sigh. He probably didn't even know she existed, and it was better that way, right?
She should finally abandon all dreams and learn to forget this amazingly handsome and… different man. So why did she crave to hear his voice calling after her…

“Celvi, Wait!”
Celvi turned on her heel so that her cloak flowed around her. Was she finally going crazy or had Chase's voice called her name just now?
Even if she didn't believe them, her eyes showed she had been right: Chase was walking up to her at full speed, one hand still holding his flute,
So he had recognized her after all. Most likely by her eyes, this cursed fairy's gift. She was always remembered by them
But how on earth did Chase know her name?

She resisted the urge to turn and run, instead waited for him to catch up, What had she gotten herself into?

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

The site of cloak floating around her in storm of material, he bit back calling out the name immediately Her manner suggested to him that she was either startled at his appearance following her, or that wasn‘t her name and he further more added to his deepening dread of being exposed of who he really was to the common people. He hadn’t exactly thought out what he was going to say to her but, it was to late to turn back and hope for the better. He had stopped her, and now she stood before him. He fretted inwardly, his out emotions blank as a new piece of parchment, not displaying the inner conflict he felt.
His chest heaved for breath before pausing, his jaw hanging open a moment as he struggled for words to speak. “I- uh, well.” he stuttered a moment. “ It is Celvi is it not” he asked, a bit of his act of being a aloof, high class servant returning, pushing away his common bred humbleness. His jaw set firmly as he awaited an answer, secretly fearing the worst was about to happen.

‘What Would she say’ he pondered, ‘will she taunt me for playing entertainer for these ‘slums’? Would she understand why if I explained.’ Thousands of ‘what ifs’ and ‘will she’ questions ran through his mind as he stood before her judgmental eyes which he had to admit were very charming for a Lady In Waiting.

The majority of Ladies that followed the Princess were just not attractive to him. He found them distasteful as they did him, for after all he was just a messenger. He momentarily checked over his shoulder, looking for any spying eyes that may have followed him after he sprinted away. Secure with the fact no one watched him he turned back to face this girl.

His posture straightened as he looked her in the eye, challenging her to run and tell on him like a child would do, while a underlying mute spark pled for her to keep his secrete. Fingering his flute a moment, he casually tucked it under his arm, holding his case while the now free hand ran through his hair, straightening his messy minstrel look away. Once his hair was smoothed out, he grasped his flute once again feeling comforted by the cool metal in his hands. He felt extremely uneasily, and his prized procession smoothed out his jittery nerves.

[Celvi Gray]

Fate was an odd thing, wasn't it? For years it denied you what you wanted most, a chance you could spring at, a kind word you were so desperate to hear, or a voice that could make the world go to pieces. And when it was finally there, you found you were not ready for it, not at all. But fate didn't care about whether you were ready. It just left you there on your own.

These and similar kinds of thoughts were racing through Celvi's mind, as she eyed the man in front of her, trying to control her heartbeat and breathing. He looked glorious, even in this worn out tunic and with his hair all messed up. He always looked handsome in his fine garments, with a sword at his side, but now Celvi realised he didn't need of that.

Chase himself didn't seem to know what to say, and that was odd. Wasn't he always ready to speak out, blending in easily with all the chatting and babbling nobles of the court – to which she belonged? Could it be he was able to put on this attitude like a mask? And if yes, what was the real Chase then? The one standing right in front of her now? Or was this just one other of his seemingly many faces, too?

But in an instant he seemed to regain his composure, his face became the indifferent mask he always wore when walking around the palace. Like nothing really got to him.
His voice though, betrayed him just the tiniest bit.
“I- uh, well.”“ It is Celvi is it not”
Hadn't he just called her by her name? Why did he ask of it again?

"Yes", she managed to whisper and had to avoid his eyes. She felt her face flush and mentally kicked herself. Countenance! She was a Lady after all. Auntie Dagmara's lessons should have had at least some effect! "Yes", she repeated in a firmer voice. "I'm Celvi Gray."

Now that the obvious was stated – what now? She couldn't just stand there and gaze moonily at him, how embarrassing was that!
"You… " she began, while trying to hold his gaze and the challenge inside it. "You played wonderful. It's a rare talent, making people happy in those troubled times."
Now with his hair straightened, he looked even better. She felt herself blush again and angrily looked at the ground to hide it at least a little bit

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

With the confirmation of her name, so he did have that right and it boosted his waning confidence. It had helped him remember where he had learned her name what little facts he had been told about her. Her aunt was the Countess Dagmara Belet, he mentally shuddered at the name. Not that he directly disliked her Aunt, she was just a bit obsessive when it came to being a properly mannered being in high society and often was critiquing him when he came to deliver a letter.

Celvi, from what he remembered when the Queen was on one of her ‘gossip bout the ladies’ mood, has said she was a bit different from the others. But different in what way he didn’t know. The Queen hadn’t explained any further just saying ‘she is one you need to figure out for yourself.’ This frustrated him deeply now. It would have helped greatly knowing how her mind worked at this very moment.

The complement on his ability, came as slight shock. The Few nobles who knew he ever could play never once complement but simply enjoyed the polite entertainment the Queen submitted them to. Stuck up bunch Nobility were, was a common thought that danced in his mind when forced to entertain the Queen’s friends. But this girl before him this minor little glitch in the system, completely erased that all Nobles were, just the majority. It made him rethink the possibly that she wouldn’t tattle on him, but a more critical thinking side of him quickly smashed that bit of hopeful spark.

“Ah, well. Thanks” he muttered, his mask slipping again before he regained control. Sighing slightly he put away his mask, having a odd feeling that he needn’t be his aloof self with Celvi. “I enjoy, seeing their cares melt away. Even if for a brief moment.” Spotting what he saw on her own cheeks, he briskly glanced away, saving her from his quizzical gaze. Was it just a trick of the eye? Had he really just make a Lady blush. Impossible, must have been a trick of his eye.

Inhaling slowly, he returned his gaze to Celvi wondering if he could confront her about whether she would tell his secrete or not. ‘Now or never’ he nervously thought, shuffling in place a moment, his gaze falling to his mucky boots. “Celvi, you won’t mention my playing to anyone will you? it’s kind of, well, it’s a bit of.” He had to stop and gather his thoughts that were a nervous jumble in his mind. He didn’t know how to explain that playing for the Common People was his way of letting go of court life and relaxing. His safe haven and he didn’t want anyone messing with that. “I would greatly appreciate if you wouldn’t tell anyone.” he finalized, offering up one of his more pleading, lopsided grins.

[Celvi Gray]

Every minute Celvi stood there and talked to the man she had always admired from afar, she felt more confident. In the end, there was nothing to it, was there? As soon as she was able to keep her body language under control and as soon as she could slightly overlook the fact that this was Chase she was talking to, she would be fine.

But how come it was him who also seemed uncomfortable, hearing her praise him like the commoners had did before? Was it he wasn't used to praise in general, or was it praise coming from her, as a noblewoman maybe? In fact, now that she thought about it, had any other noble really paid him a compliment apart from polite applauding at the end? Well, she hadn't always been there when he played, so it was hard to tell.

“I enjoy, seeing their cares melt away. Even if for a brief moment.”
His tone of voice indicated he really did feel the way he told her, and suddenly the mask was gone. So this was the real Chase? The commoner enjoying to make other commoners happy? Well, and why not? Aunt Dagmara would say 'he's really a chip off the old block then' had she been there, and 'you can teach a dog manners, but it will still be a dog'.
But how did Celvi herself feel about this revelation? She hadn't needed to be taught not to care about commoners too much, it was part of who she was.
But she had learned to care about Chase, and so what Chase did couldn't be all that wrong, now could it?
"It's… it's a great gift", she affirmed and hestitated. How could she tell him she approved of what he did without giving too much away of things he never should know?
"I wish I could do something like that. Don't let it go to waste!"

Even as she looked away, she could feel that there was something bothering him, and a second later, he almost blurted out:
“Celvi, you won’t mention my playing to anyone will you? it’s kind of, well, it’s a bit of.”
A bit of what? Complicated? That's for sure!
“I would greatly appreciate if you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Celvi had to look away again as she saw his lopsided grin reaching for her soul. Hadn't she been certain to be quiet before, how could she refuse now?

"Oh, I would never tell anyone, honestly, what do you think of me?" she protested before she could decide on something more modest to say. To hide her confusion she gave a small laugh. "Besides, telling on you would give me away, too, what with sneaking away from the Princess' quarters, dressed up as a merchant woman. My aunt would faint at the sheer thought of it. I say, let's call it quits!"

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

The tension made his body rigid as he immediately regretted asking her not to mention his flute playing. His plead may have convinced her to simply go and tell, after all why should a noblewoman heed a request from a servant. His smile evaporated briefly, his jaw clenched with nervous tension before that evaporated too as she confirmed she wouldn’t tell anyone.

‘What do you think of me?’ Her question made him wince mentally. Had he rubber her the wrong way with his plead? He hoped he hadn’t for that would only spell certain disaster. He would be fired from his position most likely and would have to go back to his family’s over crowded home where they would reject him for making such a stupid mistake.

The next words she spoke brought a smile to his lips and small chuckle in his chest. The worried tension was completely gone from his muscles as he gave a small laugh and a nod. “Agreed, not a word spoken of either of our expeditions from the castle” he laughed, shifting the flute case back underneath his arm.

He began to think she was honestly different from most the nobles he encountered on a daily basis. She was willing to not tattle, but then again only with the added fact of saving her own self from her delightfully horrid aunt. So maybe she was like the others, but she didn’t seem like the type to throw her nose in the air at the sight of anyone who was poor. But who was he to judge people.

“Sooo” he dragged out, looking around nonchalantly, “ Lady Gray, what brings you from high society to the humble streets of the city” he questioned, his tone quizzical but not critical or nosy just curious in a friendly manner. And to top it all of his manners and teachings had returned so he had proudly remembered to add in her title to no further annoy her, or so he thought he was.

[Celvi Gray]

Not being detected doing what he did, seemed to matter a great deal to Chase. Celvi could almost feel the tension around him physically, as he waited for her to reply, like a criminal before court, awaiting the final judgement.
But her affirmation that she would not give him away, seemed to relieve him, he even started to chuckle, a sound she didn't hear often from him!

“Agreed, not a word spoken of either of our expeditions from the castle”
A chuckle of her own was building up inside her chest, Chase's was so contagious she couldn't help. "Yes. Our little secret, or so to say!" she commented, and was shocked the very next second about how bold and so un-Celvi-like that sounded.
To distract herself, she quickly took a look around the market to check if she still was undeteced. That would just be her luck, being seen and told off to her aunt, or even worse, the princess. Gossip would never cease to flourish…

It was then that Chase spoke again, for whatever reason willing to keep up the conversation.
“Sooo” “ Lady Grey, what brings you from high society to the humble streets of the city”
She winced at him sounding her title, and wasn't sure for a moment whether it was only inwardly or not. Of course! Just now that she started to feel comfortable around him, he drew that line again, widening the gap between them almost visibly. Oh yes, she was the Lady here and he the servant…
The anger at this simple fact claimed too much attention from her mind, so that she didn't choose her words as carefully as she maybe should, but answered with the honest truth.

"You could call it holiday from myself. I don't know why I am this way, its just that sometimes I need to… break out. Being like I want to be and doing what I want to do, not what good manners or court ceremony tell me…"
She broke off in mid-sentence, instead of blushing she now paled. Oh by Runnori, what had she done?! She had just weared her heart on her sleeve in front of a man, and a servant at that. Though this was not any servant or man, it was Chase… All the worse! Surely he now would despise her, sneer at her, turning around walking away, now finally seeing that this all had been a waste of his time. How could she ever dare to look at him again, after that?!

Now she was the one standing in front of him like the murderer facing the gallows. If anything she had surely killed the mood of the situation.
Only her well-taught countenance and the tiniest spark of hope he would not condemn her, kept her from turning around and running to hide.

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

The offered reply, made him mentally cock his head, like a dog when something curious is about. The content of her words, confirmed what he had pondered. She wasn’t like the others, she was wonderfully different! Chase couldn’t believe for he thought all nobility could be stereotyped, but here she had proved wrong his common bred mistake. And how great that was, as further ease spread over his outward appearance for he felt he no longer had to fear this girl telling everyone of his escapade.

But the way she cut it short and how her demeanor changed, he began to realize her committed mistake. He deeply understood how she felt and immediately stepped in to save her from any negative emotion she was experiencing, for it was the least he could do after they had made a pact to tell no one of their private journeys into the city’s heart.

He stepped forward, breaking through the respectful distance barrier and reached to place a comforting arm on her shoulder like he would a fellow commoner, but stopped himself half way and placed hand back at his side. “I know how that feels…” he started off slowly, feeling as if he was treading on thin ice, “Honestly I do. I feel at home amongst theses people, my people who I’ve been around the majority of my life. Here I don’t have to remember how to properly greet or when to bow and the whole we just act as we are in common familiarity of one another.” He paused, debating whether to go on, or if he had said enough.

Struggling a moment, torn between options, he concluded he had said enough and bowed his head, in slight embarrassment of speaking so boldly. Had he made a mistake or had he chosen right. The answer was ungraspable, and he feared the result.

[Celvi Gray]

At least Chase didn't interrupt her but waited till she did break off herself. Or might it have been better if he stopped her first, so that at least a bit of her innermost thoughts remained concealed? What had she gotten herself into, she mused yet again. This was not one of her good days, not by far. It was even possible it ranked before the day her father had gone to war…

But then, suddenly, the worst desaster imaginable seemed to turn into something completely different, into something nothing short of one of her silent dreams.
Chase was moving forward, closer as was proper and he raised his hand!
What would he do? What should she do? Her heartbeat stopped for a second, only to start racing like a wild horse.
Then Chase broke the spell by taking his arm back at his side, as if nothing had happened. Whatever he had been about to do, he had obviously changed his mind.
Still, something had happened, there was no denying it.

His words though sounded like an absolution to her. For a short moment she didn't know what to say, only stared at him with slightly widened eyes.
"You…" she had to swallow, "you do? But… this is just normal, isn't it? You are not at home in court life, because you were born into a different world. Whereas I should feel at home, but I don't. That's not normal…"
She should stop immediately. She had said too much again, far too much! Now she appeared like a whiny girl, and not like the grown-up woman she wanted to be!

"But alas, I am not normal", she tried to joke. "My nickname is Fay, and I really deserve it, as often as I behave like one."
It was the first time in her entire life she could talk about this with someone. It felt so unbelievably good to finally acknowlege these feelings, instead of crowding them out. She had been in love with Chase for a long time, but just now she realized he might even be a fellow soul.

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

Raising his gaze from his mucky, commoner boots to her widened stare. He chewed at his lower lip a brief moment, his demeanor shriveled as he began fearing the worst had been committed. What was she thinking now? Was she plotting his downfall or thinking what a freak show this messenger boy was. He wanted to take back every word he had ever said, take back ever running after all. He should of done the more sensible thing and hoped for the best that she wouldn’t tell anyone after she deposited that fateful coin.

Scratching nonchalantly at the back of his head, he ran his hand through his hair again out of habit. When he was in company with the higher classman, he was always checking and perfecting his physical appearance. For often he was criticized for having his hair not perfect, or his tunic not straightened and properly washed. Always self conscious of his appearance , had made for some very irritable habits he had developed.

He had to nod in her questioning about whether or not he truthfully felt the same way. He did and may the goddess strike him down if he lied. Those words spoken were the truth that spilt from the pent up emotions in his chest and now they were known to Celvi. It both frightened and comforted Chase as that fact. He licked his lips nervously, shifting a half step backward, into a but of a more respectable distance and dipped his gaze back down to the cobblestone ground he stood on.

Her attempt at a joke, brought a slight smile to his nervous line of lips, the ends curling up slightly. “Really, I would of never guess anyone would ever call you that, you don't come off as that type, not that it is a 'type' of person.” he stated, curious as the fact that anyone would call her Fay. She never appeared to act in that manner, but then again, the times he had ever seen Celvi was in brief increments and was in no place to assume how one acted for what reasons.

[Celvi Gray]

For any outsider bothering to watch this had to be a really odd encounter. Both had arrived at a part where they felt uncomfortable, doing everything to either avoid the other's gaze or maintaining a smooth face. But for Celvi it was nothing to laugh about.
How often had she dreamed of talking to Chase, of what she would say, what he would say, how he would realize that she was worthy of his affection, and all that.
This was different. They had both bared their souls unexpectedly, and now Celvi was completely unsure on how to react. Life was never like the stories told!

Her movements almost mirrored his own, just that she didn't run a hand trough her hair, just fiddling with a strand. Had she been a little girl of ten still, she might even have chewed on it.
She was almost a bit grateful as Chase retreated just the tiniest bit, for this proximity really started to get to her. This man had a certain odour to him that always made her head spin on the rare occasions he had passed her. Whether it was some sort of fragrance she didn't know and didn't care. But the wind was blowing into her face now, sending little waves of this odour past her nostrils every few seconds.

“Really, I would of never guess anyone would ever call you that, you don't come off as that type, not that it is a 'type' of person.”
Celiv sighed inwardly with relief. So she had not been a complete mood killer after all. Chase was smiling again, even if it seemed a bit forced, what with all his nervousness.
"The princess does so often", she stated with a little indifferent shrug. "I try not to behave unladylike all too much, but sometimes I can't help, and then I just have to flee the palace grounds and be on my own. I'm going down to the river, and I would have done so too today, but… well, it's complicated." Surely he wasn't interested in how her horse had been lame and all those minor details that had set it off for her going into the city.

"Mostly, I think I am called 'Fay' because of my eyes. I often hear people whisper that they think some sort of fairy touched me when I was a newborn. Silly superstition, I know."
She really didn't want to go further into this, but she craved for Chase to stay, and as soon as there was nothing more to say, he would go. Most likely he was tired of her company already…

"What is that money for you gathered with your performance?" she asked curiously, suddenly remembering. "You don't strike me as the kind of guy taking it all for yourself." No, not after what he told her…

[Chase Cantwell]

To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable.”

‘The Princess is a vain, spoiled brat who thinks only of her self and has no right to judge those she fully doesn’t know’ he immediately thought at her comment of the Princess calling her Fay. How odd, he would be defending her, even in his own mind. Perhaps it was just knowing how she felt being in the critical eye of everyone or his strong distaste for the Queen’s daughter coming through strongly in his thoughts. He honestly didn’t hate the princess in whole, just her personality often made him want to puke with disgust.

“What kept you from going to the river” he asked curiously hoping once again he didn‘t sound to nosy.
“It is a grand and lovely place. I’d even prefer it over the city on some days.” That was a honest fact. The snaking body of water was magnificent how it didn’t freeze even on the coldest of winter nights. It kept on patiently flowing to its destination in the far distance.

A fairy touched her eyes…. He chewed over this a moment, discretely observing the difference in eye color of her left and right. They were oddly beautiful in their own way. A split of matching colors. They were intoxicatingly fascinating to look into, so mush so he nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder then back again, taking care not to fully concentrate on her unusual eyes.

“eh, the money” he started, feeling a bit of the passed uneasy feeling seeping back. What would she think if he told her the truth that he was earning it to give to the poor. Would she think him odd for doing so? Gritting his teeth, he started on an explanation hoping he didn’t sound to daft. “That’s exactly right” he mused feeling better about the situation as he continued to speak, “ Dead on your assumption is, for I don’t keep it for myself.” A but of his confidence trickled away, as he fumbled with away to describe his exact actions with the money.

“It may, I donno sound a bit like I’m trying to be a phony hero. I take the money earned and give it to a family in need so they don’t go hungry and the like. It doesn’t seem fair or right to me that they have to starve while I have a fully belly every night when I came from the same place they are in now. A poor area where we the majority of the time they go hungry from lack of funds to purchase a meal.”

He paused then laughed nervously, “I’m sorry, I sound like a loon don’t I? Ranting about something I can’t change in whole but try to in parts.” He shook his head slightly at himself, drooping his gaze to the cobbles before rising again.