I return to my room and sit on my bed staring at my empty violin case wondering what I should do.

Today will be the first day that that I am not practicing my scales.

A major, B major, C major, B major,  in the morning.

I can feel my fingers itching, like I’m doing something wrong. Something very wrong. I feel a chill down my back. Mortimer will find out.  It was always my fear as a child. But now that I’m older? Why does it scare me still? It is not my fault if the violin is not here right? That I cannot practice? Besides, Mortimer probably took it back because of my performance. My one mistake.

My  performance. It was not even a performance. Hidden behind a curtain, on a violin that had hardly a sound. I sit on the edge of my bed with my elbows to my knees and my hands cradling my head, feeling like I should be crying, but not finding the energy for it. I stay there, in silence, not even thinking, for a while.

Then I hear a soft knock, and the door slowly opens before I can say a word.

A girl walks in. She is wearing the uniform of the kitchen staff, though I’ve not seen her in the kitchen before. Not that I go there much anymore. Her soft very curly short brown hair nearly covers her pale green eyes, which were wide open in shock.

“Greif! Sorry, I didn’t know you would be awake! Or… conscious to be honest. Or sitting up, or doing anything,” she says. Yet she still comes into the room and shuts the door behind her.

I am unable to say anything at all as she approaches me, touching her soft brown fingers to my callous hands, removing them from my head. I look up at her, still in shock. She smiles at me, speaking as if talking to a frightened cat.

“Don’t be alarmed now. My name is Cecil. You’ve probably never seen me around the castle because I usually follow the youngest royal brat around trying to get him to eat carrots,” she introduces herself. Her voice sounds like soft tinkling bells.

Cecil. I remember Martha talked about her once. Prince Alexi’s personal chief. The king hired her because Alexi refused to eat vegetables and she had a knack for hiding them in creative ways to get him to eat.

She touches my forehead with the back of her palm. “I see your fever has gone down. Though you seem a bit warm still. That’s good. Grief. Really, you gave the doctor and Martha quite a scare. I was starting to wonder if you would ever wake up.”

“Martha?” I mumble, trying to hide a creeping blush. 

“Yes, Martha, head of the kitchen Martha. Are there any other Martha’s you know? Fretting all over you she was. Although, she was not able to come up to visit you much. That’s why I’m here! Lots of spare time between the royal brats meals. You were taking forever to break your fever. Though your elbow is looking a lot better.”

I look down to my elbow. I forgotten it was even injured.

“I’ve been taking care of your bandages and stuff for the past few days and…”

“Have you seen my violin?!” I say cutting her off and grabbing her hand, with more fervour that I should have. Panic had me in its grip. 

She gently brushes my hand away. "Calm down," she says in a voice that still sounded like she was talking to a frightened cat. She turns to check the water pitcher next to my bed. I take deep breaths. “Empty,” she mumbles. Then she turns back to me.

“What violin?”
“The one that was in the case!” I say, calmer but still so very distraught. I point to the case behind her. 

“Oh.” She ponders for a bit. “To be honest I haven’t seen it, and I’ve been in and out of your room very often. Doctor’s orders of course. I don’t have the habit of wondering in and out of sick boys rooms. That would be very rude. And strange. I would have noticed if there was a violin there. I do remember the case being left open though. But you have been out for days, and I was not the first one to check up on you.”

I sit and wonder where the violin could have gone again. I think about every room of the castle. I glance up at Cecil, she is staring at the violin case, wondering herself if she had any recollection of it being there. She does have  a pretty voice. 

“Wait… what did you say?” 
“I was not the first one to check up on you?” 
“No, before that?” 
“But you have been out for days?” she smiles. I cannot help but think that she does look nice, but quickly eject the thought from my head. I have to concentrate, my violin is still missing. “Ah, I see,” she continues. “What day do you think it is?”

I look at the window, the sun is rising higher, more light is streaking through the gaps in the curtain. “The day after the concert. That’s the last thing I remember, coming back after the concert.”

“Oh, um. Heston. It’s been three days since the concert.”

Three days?!