Song’s Ruin

Wringing her hands, Castilla glowered at the locked door. The thick walls and equally dense casting prevented her from hearing anything within. She didn’t appreciate being shut out. Not with her husband, a songstress, and her boy within.

Her boy. He lay direly ill. She should be caring for him. But no, Caden had ignored her. Ignored even her refusal to summon a songstress.

The door cracked open, and Caden slipped out. A lyre’s melody followed him, quickly cut off when he shut the door. Her husband sagged against the wood.

Castilla would not excuse him for weariness. “What is going on?”

“Our son is being cared for,” Caden said, his words clipped and angry.

“I’ll care for our son. Not some songstress.” Castilla gestured toward the closed door.

Caden’s mouth narrowed. “You’ll care for this?” His mouth quivered as he stared at her.

Castilla raised her chin, determined. “I will.”

Shoving from the door, Caden brushed past her and marched over to yank open a dresser. He retrieved the music box from within. The one Castilla had given their son.

“You gave him this!” He shook the box, his words dripping with outrage. “You caused this. You know a song can make or ruin a person’s day.” Caden threw the box and the wood cracked against the wall. “I only pray it didn’t ruin his life.”

Castine snorted. Of course, Caden held to the old folklore. She knew what he needed. Not some songstress from the Silver Spire Halls.