Heartfelt Sounds Read Online Free

clasps my hands within her own. Her palms are warm. Welcoming.
    I realize that my jaw is shaking—my teeth chattering silently against each other—and I calm myself. I let my hands melt into her embrace.
    Should I tell her I'm not a brothel girl? Should I keep quiet?
    Did it matter?
    I slide my hands away from her grasp. I place them in my lap. “Thank you, Miss Kokoros—truly. But I am actually—,”
    “—a songstress?” asks a smooth voice. Heels click upon the tiles of the floor and I look up. Gentle purple eyes meet my gaze, they are carved into a diamond like face. “I remember you.” she says. Her voice is calming and still, like the untouched surface of a lake. Her eyes are unnerving—unnatural. “Naia…I heard you murmur it, but I never believed the Orthella would let you go. Your voice is magical…but your zither…” she holds up its two pieces, prostrate against the velveteen of her plum gown. “…it's broken.”
    The tears come again—but they do not fall.
    I nod. Unable to speak.
    “It's good you came to Kokoros. It's very good.” she coos. Inclines her head. Bows it. “Your voice is what inspired me to leave the Saints. One night, the wind guided your song to my window—giving me strength. I'm glad you didn't take my route. I'm glad you found us—but very sorry you're here.” In a single, graceful, movement she bows from her torso. Silver tinged locks of sable are parted down her shoulders. “I'll leave you to it, miss.”
    When she turns on her heel to leave, she takes my broken zither with her before disappearing behind the sliding paper door across from the cupboards with a soft click.
    Footsteps tap stairs, and I listen.
    I wonder what she's going to do with my zither. My poor broken zither.
    I wonder at what my voice did for her. My song.
    I wonder which song gave her the strength to run—maybe I could sing that to myself to get rid of this feeling. This feeling of helplessness mixed with betrayal. This hurt.
    I can't blame Althea, nor Hana. The only person I have to blame is myself.
    If only I'd tried to come out as a full-fledged songstress earlier. If only the string of my zither hadn't broken that night. If only…
    Akane pulls me from my thoughts, “You and Shanti know each other, then?” When I nod, she taps a finger upon her chin. “So, your stories are similar?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then Kapua won't be coming for you?”
    “My home is the Orthella. That is where I come from.” Where I belong.
    Her face falls. “Oh, well—you'll still fit nicely here. But you'll need to earn your keep like the others. And—,” Akane gazes into my face. She brushes a stray hair from my cheek, her smile sad. “—today, just rest. It looks like times have been hard for you, Naia. Go find Shanti and she'll lead you to bed.”
    Though the sun has only recently risen, I feel as if night has already fallen. I feel as if I have been awake for several days—my sleep stolen. Misfortune has robbed me of my vitality. My youth.
    And so, I do as she instructs. I move through the small parlor—eyes glazed, heavy. Heart aching. I find the cupboards and the quiet paper door. When I apply gentle pressure, it opens for me with a hiss . I am met by a pathway of stairs that reach high into darkness.
    At the top of the staircase, I hear a door hiss as it is slid open. Floorboards moan at the soft swish of the stockings upon feet as I climb the stairs. When I make it to the second floor, a hand reaches for my own. When the hand pulls me up, I imagine I'm looking into Lore's calm face. Full of love. Affection. Free of drink. But it's Shanti—and it's almost as if she can sense my presence, just like Lore could. Gently, she clasps my hand within her own and pulls me into a hallway. She takes a right.
    Two wide sliding doors are cut into oaken walls. From the back of the hallway, a window opens halfway. It is a sleepy eye where white light pours, littering the shiny floor of the small hallway. I hear the