Theos, she was magnificent...holding her composure right until the final note played out.
The applause was instantaneous.
Everybody got to their feet, orchestra and crowd alike.
Wiping her face with shaking hands, Amalie bowed to the royal box, then bowed again to the audience at large. The conductor strode over to her, clapping hard, then put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheeks, then bowed to her. She laughed and put a hand over her mouth, so clearly overwhelmed at the reaction that Talos wanted to run on to the stage and scoop her into his arms.
But this was her moment, and she needed to cherish it.
She found the royal box again, kissed her hand, then pointed it at his grandfather, more tears falling down her cheeks.
The crowd were calling for an encore.
* * *
Amalie, the rest of the Orchestre National de Paris and all the other performers were whisked back inside the palace for the after-gala do.
She took the offered champagne and drank it with gratitude, still dazed at what she had accomplished.
She had done it.
Her parents had both messaged her.
Her father’s message had read: I’m very proud of you, sweetheart—maybe the old dream of playing together at Carnegie Hall might one day come true xxx, while her mother’s had been much longer and more rambling, but filled with just as much pride.
On impulse, she’d messaged them both back, suggesting the two of them celebrate together. Life was too short to be miserable, and far too short to be alone. They’d been divorced from each other almost as long as they’d been married, and still neither of them was happy without the other. If there was one thing Amalie had learned during her time on Agon it was that it was time to forgive the past. They needed to forgive it too.
A gong rang out, which brought everyone in the ballroom to attention. A courtier entered the room and announced the arrival of His Majesty King Astraeus and the Princes Helios, Theseus and Talos.
Her stomach somersaulted as a different courtier approached to lead her over to the royal family. She’d been warned that she would be the first one to be addressed by them.
Taking a deep breath, she finished her champagne and followed him to where the royal family were lined up, awaiting her. The other guests were forming an orderly queue, and she was taken to the head of it.
The King, frail in his wheelchair, broke into a smile to see her and grabbed her hands with surprising strength to tug her down to him. A tear trailed down his cheek. ‘Thank you, despinis. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’
Her own eyes filled. Hadn’t she cried enough for one evening? Having not cried in years, her life being too safe for anything emotional to pierce her, it was as if her tear ducts were now making up for it.
‘It was an honour,’ she whispered.
This time it was the King who breached protocol, planting a kiss to her cheek, and then he indicated for his nurse to wheel him out, leaving the queue of people behind her staring in disbelief as the King left his own party.
Theseus was next in line, and surprised her by ignoring her hand and clumsy curtsy to kiss her on both cheeks. His eyes were a darker brown than Talos’s, and rang with a strong emotion he didn’t have to put into words.
Helios was even more demonstrative, pulling her into his arms for a tight embrace and whispering in her ear, ‘My family honours you—our island is your home for as long as you want it to be.’
And then it was Talos’s turn.
Jaw clenched, he shook her hand formally—his own had a bandage wrapped tightly around its forefinger and index finger—and bowed as she made her curtsy.
She met his eyes. ‘You’ve hurt your hand...’ She thought back to the punch he’d given the wall of his office, and to the time she’d found him thumping that punching bag without protective gloves on.
‘It’ll heal.’ A pulse throbbed beneath his ear, the black pupils of his eyes thick and dilating as he gazed at her without speaking any further.
She didn’t know what to say. She knew he cared for her, but that didn’t mean anything had changed. No matter how his feelings for her had developed, it didn’t change the fact that he was a lone wolf.
Did lone wolves ever pair up?
Aware of the other performers jostling next to her, eager to have their audience with him, she turned to walk away but a huge arm hooked around her waist.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he said roughly, pulling her away from the line.
Joy filled her so rapidly she felt her toes lifting with the extra air it generated. ‘I was letting the others have their audience with you.’