Chapter Eleven

" D eep breaths, yes, that's it, you're doing good," Rhapsody's therapist said encouragingly two hours later.

"I'm not doing good." She was seated on her therapist's Chesterfield sofa, and the memory of her Master calling her by name still had her hyperventilating. How could that be classified as doing good?

"Just keep breathing," Lady Aurora Orpheline, middle daughter of the Baron of Woodmere, urged even as she scribbled additional observations on her notebook. Patient RN-01 exhibiting the following signs: rapid heartbeat, accelerated pulse, and elevated blood pressure.

"Do you still feel a tightness in your chest?" Aurora asked.

Her patient's head bobbed several times.

Aurora added this to her notes. Phantom chest pains, likely caused by emotional stress.

Rhapsody's dark eyes turned to her therapist in appeal. "I can't seem to stop panicking."

"It's alright, Rhapsody," her therapist said soothingly. "Everyone panics—-"

"But I'm not everyone," Rhapsody actually found herself crying out in protest. "I...Am...Not...Normal!" The words bounced against the library walls in mortifyingly shrill volume, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth in stunned dismay. She had never lost control like this. Never!

Her gaze flew to her therapist, words of abject apology on the brink of her lips, but to Rhapsody's surprise she found the baron's daughter looking quite unbothered.

"From where I'm sitting," Aurora said gently, "you sound no different from other young ladies with their first taste of romantic trouble."

Rhapsody's eyes widened.

"So if you ask me," Aurora told her patient, "I think you've never been more normal than this instance." Seeing that some of her words were finally sinking in, Aurora quickly rang a bell, and moments later, a maid came back in to serve them tea and place a tiered tray of pastries on the table.

"I know what you're doing," Rhapsody muttered even as she took a sip and started munching on her second scone.

"Oh?"

"You are trying to lull my senses with lovely-tasting snacks and delicious-smelling tea."

"The aroma of chamomile is said to be very effective in soothing frayed nerves," Aurora acknowledged. "Is it working?"

Rhapsody glanced at her empty cup. "Frighteningly so."

Her therapist laughed. "It's to be hoped that once you're done with refreshments, you've properly calmed down, and you're able to listen more effectively to what I have to say."

After taking a sip of her own tea, Aurora reached for her notebook and flipped a few pages back to reread her notes. In the past, most of her time had been consumed training and fighting alongside her sisters Soleil and Fleur as Trois Belles Lames.

But now that Soleil was in her last trimester of pregnancy, their undercover work had temporarily been placed on hiatus. Thank heavens she still had her consultancy work to rely on , Aurora thought, or boredom - not demons - would have long killed her.

Aurora glanced back at her notes. So much had happened between Rhapsody and the Marquis of Sangre , she marveled, in just a matter of days. It was no wonder her patient had ended up being rather unusually emotional and driven to come calling unexpected at the Baron of Woodmere's townhouse.

Seeing that the girl now appeared much calmer, Aurora put her cup down and raised an inquiring brow. "All better now?"

Rhapsody patted her mouth with a napkin before clasping her hands over her lap. "I'm ready to listen."

The placidness of Rhapsody's tone had Aurora biting back a smile. That voice used to fool her into thinking Rhapsody as meek and docile, but now she knew it only served as the perfect disguise for the girl's stubborn streak.

Aurora cleared her throat. "So..." She opened her notebook and read out her first concern. "You told me all of this was caused by the marquis calling you by your name."

"Yes."

"And this was the first time he had done it?"

"He addresses me as Rhapsody in his letters, but that's different." Rhapsody paused. "Or is it not?"

"It depends," she murmured noncommittally, "but we'll skip that part for now. What's more important is your reaction to hearing the marquis say your name."

"It made me anxious," Rhapsody answered with a frown.

"And that's not the usual, isn't it?"

"Not usual at all," Rhapsody couldn't help but emphasize, remembering how sensibly she had remained even after finding out Bethany had passed away.

"Why do you think this was?"

Rhapsody hesitated. "You'd think it illogical."

"Feelings often are, but there's a way to make sense of them."

"When my Master called me by my name," Rhapsody revealed reluctantly, "it felt strangely... right ."

"In what way?" Aurora prodded.

"It reminded me of when I was with...Bethany. She insisted that I call her by her name because she didn't want to be reminded of the fact that she has a daughter. I know it's a small thing—-"

"On the contrary," Aurora countered carefully, "everything a parent says or does has a tremendous impact on his or her child, and you are not an exception."

Rhapsody slowly nodded, seeing her therapist's point. "I guess that's why names hold so much power in my mind. Every time she made me call her Bethany, it made me feel she was pushing me away."

"But when the Master called you by your name..."

"It was the opposite," Rhapsody said haltingly. "When he called me by my name, I was...overcome."

"Because he made feel you wanted."

Rhapsody quickly nodded. Yes!

"And normal?" Aurora guessed.

Rhapsody's nod was even more vehement than before.

"If Bethany had allowed you to call her Mother, would that have made you feel wanted?"

"I...suppose?" Rhapsody was caught off guard by the sudden switch in her therapist's questions.

"And do you think if Bethany let you call her mother, would it have also made you feel normal?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"If Bethany had done all those things, would you have loved her?"

"It would have been natural for me to do so, I think."

"So now that it's the marquis doing those things..."

Rhapsody shook her head emphatically when she realized where the therapist's words were leading. "You're trying to trick me," she accused.

Aurora rolled her eyes. "What would I gain from tricking you?"

Rhapsody's lips pursed. Indeed, her therapist had a point, but that couldn't mean Lady Aurora had it right.

Right?

"It can't be," Rhapsody heard herself say. "Maybe this is merely heartkeeping—-"

"You know better than that," Aurora reminded her patient. Heartkeeping could lead to romantic feelings, but not the other way around. Love was neither a prerequisite nor an inevitable consequence of heartkeeping, and there were ancient texts to prove this.

"But for it to be what I think it is..." Rhapsody couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Consider all the signs, Rhapsody. You yourself realized that you felt jealousy over the possibility of something happening between the marquis and another girl."

"I know, milady, but—-"

"One does not feel jealous just for anyone," Aurora emphasized.

"But this emotion that you think I'm feeling...it is too volatile and excessive," Rhapsody described uneasily. Wasn't such an emotion impossible for someone like her to experience?

"To be fair," Aurora conceded, "I am not absolutely saying it is that. It's also possible that what you're feeling may soon turn out to be nothing but infatuation or even merely sexual attraction."

"Yes, that may just be it," Rhapsody said with a sigh of relief. "How do I confirm this, milady?"

"Confirm what?"

"That it is indeed merely infatuation or sexual attraction. I wish to ascertain that it is not the other thing—-"

"Just wait, I suppose?"

Rhapsody blinked. Wait? Had she heard her therapist right? She was to simply... wait?

"These things are a leap of faith, milady," Aurora said with a shrug, seeing Rhapsody's disbelief. "There is no formula in the world to determine the existence of such feelings."

"But there has to be something," Rhapsody couldn't help insisting.

Stubborn as expected , Aurora thought with an inner sigh. "I can think of at least one way," she said finally, "but you probably won't like it."

Rhapsody quickly sat up, feeling like she was about to hear A Most Important Truth.

And so she did.

Rhapsody was still in a bit of a daze when she came out of the house. Darkness had already fallen, and the skies only made bright by the silvery sheen of moonlight. She stepped inside the marquis' carriage, and soon after the coachman had the horses galloping back to the school. A glance at her pocket watch told her it was a few minutes past six, and she sighed in relief. She had told her Master she would be back in time to have supper with him, and it was still early enough for her not to break her word.

Outside her carriage window, she heard wolves howling, the menacing sound serving as the Marquis of Lunare's serenade to his heartkeeper...as well as a promise of a violent demise under razor-sharp canines and claws to any one foolish enough to mean his marchioness harm.

The story of how Lord Ilie and Lady Soleil had fallen in love was the stuff of legends now. She wished them well, truly, but to imagine something similar would happen between her and the Marquis of Sangre no less...

Impossible, Rhapsody thought.

But despite this, her therapist's words echoed in her mind.

If your heart breaks, and the pain is so tremendous that you realize it cannot be anything else but love...that is the only way to gain the answer you seek. But knowing this, would you still hope for such a moment?