That weekend, Nora took a bus over to Medloy village and then a taxi from there to the palace. The cab couldn't get her right outside the gates as there was always a crowd of excited tourists hanging outside, but the driver managed to get her two blocks over. She thanked the man, paid him, and stepped out, her purse tight over her shoulder.

Today's cloudy sky painted the world gray. Despite the lack of sun, the air was cold, but not bone-chilling. Still, how people could stand outside the palace gates for hours in this weather was beyond her.

The chill sunk into the fabric of her sneakers. She burrowed her chin in the neck of her coat and crossed the first street once the walk signs lit.

Even a block over, she could tell she was close to the palace. While on the outside edge of Sarias' central city, the palace brought in a steady stream of visitors - everyone from visiting government officials to tourists passing through. The real estate was a lot higher the closer one got to the palace, but there was a reason. Even now, as Nora passed coffee shops and restaurants, people spilled out of the building despite the cold.

At the gate, next to a small group of giggling girls with tour badges around their necks, Nora texted Eli.

Rabid fans at the front gate again. Send help.

Eli's response came half a minute later. Did you feed them? I hear they're nice when you feed them.

Her laugh was a cloud on the winter air. I have a half-eaten breakfast bar in my pocket.

Hmm, he replied, maybe not. I'll send in the rescue team for extraction.

A moment or so later, the door to the guard shack opened. A taller guard in a dark uniform saddled up close to the gate, his eyes scanning the crowd. When his gaze traced over her, he stopped. "Nora?"

Nora pushed her way through the crowd. "Here!"

Another guard a few feet down made his way closer, clearing the way towards the side pedestrian gate near the entrance.

The gathered crowd saw movement and instantly responded, their excited chatter and screaming growing in volume.

The guard outside the black iron gate maneuvered her forward in front of him so he could block the crowd. The uniformed guard from inside swiftly unlocked the gate and let her in. It was all smooth, taking only a minute at most. But the second she was inside and the gate locked tight behind her, the gathered crowd reacted.

"Who is she?"

"Why does she get to go in?"

"Hey!"

Camera flashes dotted the air. As if she was someone of importance. Or some new gossip to sell to the magazines.

Crap. She really hoped she wouldn't be over tomorrow morning's paper.

The buzz of a motor grew in volume. Nora glanced up, only to see Eli riding in on a golf cart.

Oh, Creator. At this rate, she would be in tomorrow morning's paper.

The crowd reacted.

"Ohmygosh, Eli!"

"That's Eli Leonger!"

"ELI, I LOVE YOU!"

Despite the cold, Eli had on what had to be his favorite baseball cap, red, and wore it backward. His winter coat was a heavy navy piece with fur lining the hood, though he wore it unzipped.

As the golf cart stopped next to her, he leaned on the wheel, "need a ride?"

Nora crossed her arms, the chill working its way into her bloodstream. "You're going to get sick coming out here like that."

Eli raised a brow and looked down at his socked, sandaled feet and open coat. "It's only for a minute." He chuckled as she sat in the chilled leather passenger seat next to him. "Though I thank you for the concern."

Nora rolled her eyes. If Eli wanted to get a cold, that was on him. No use wasting her time mothering him. Maybe Nora would snitch on him to Lizzie. Their future queen seemed like she'd be able to get him in gear real fast.

The cart didn't have any seatbelts, which, typically, was alright. But the moment Nora's butt hit the seat, Eli whizzed the cart towards the main palace structure. She gripped the metal handle at her side with white-knuckled desperation.

Once he parked, Nora punched his shoulder.

"Ow!" Eli's hand came up to the spot. "What—"

"You drive like a maniac," she told him. "Next time, I'm driving."

Eli only laughed and hopped out of the cart. "Come on, backseat driver, let's get in where it's warm."

Maybe they needed to have a chat about what the term "backseat" driver meant. "All I'm going to say is if you ever have to get behind the wheel of a car, I'm taking the bus."

Eli parked the cart near one of the side entrances around the back. He guided her over a cobblestone walkway bordered by a tall, broad, white archway. Due to the weather, someone had taken the time to sprinkle salt over the stones. It crunched under Nora's boots as Eli led her in.

The moment the door opened, Nora knew they were in the staff section of the palace. The entryway led into a smaller tiled foyer. Around the corner, the sounds of plates clanking together and silverware hitting pans echoed down the hallway. Staff dressed in black stalked purposefully through the rooms.

The palace was awash with movement today. She knew it took a lot to keep a place like this running, especially with all the care and effort that went into something as simple as making a bed or setting a table. Still, she didn't think there had been this level of care last time she'd been here.

"Is there an event going on?" She asked Eli as they wiped off their shoes. Unlike her house, they didn't walk around the palace in their bare feet. The last thing she'd want was to run into the prince in her fluffy pink socks.

Eli's hand came to her mid-back as he guided her around a staff member arranging a vase on one of the hallway tables. His hand was warm yet firm. Despite her own internal warnings not to get close to Eli, she found herself wanting that hand to never leave.

Warning bells went off inside her head. She knew Eli and the people he hung around with. In no instance was it okay for her to get close to someone like him. Not if she wanted a safe, drama-less life. Even if Eli didn't cause drama, he would carry it around with him. Not intentionally. No, Eli would never start it. But people around him, the people who wanted to be close to his family and fame, would find drama.

She had enough stress at the moment. And yet... Eli had the potential to bring something special into her life if she let him. Even if nothing more than friends.

But would she be emotionally stable enough to handle the kids at school? The ones who saw her as lesser because of her Scholar status?

"I want to show you the studio later before you leave," Eli said as he guided her through ostentatiously decorated hallways and wide, expansive rooms. "You'll die once you see it."

"Trying to kill me, Eli Leonger?"

His grin was wicked as he looked over at her. Her heart gave a solid thump.

They stayed toward the back of the palace and entered a hallway that took Nora's breath away. She stopped.

The flooring was all sleek marble that made her shoes squeak as she walked. Massive white pillars bordered the off-white walls while golden chandeliers and white curling wall lanterns lit the space. Massive, floor-to-ceiling windows lined evenly along the wall, revealing the twisting palace garden out back. Despite the cold weather, snow-coated bushes and beautifully crafted shaped trees dotted along a cobblestone pathway.

Eli stopped with her and noted her attention outside. "You should see it in the summertime."

This room, this entire setting, was excellent for writing inspiration. Nora could feel it. Her fingertips itched with the need to write lyrics, though the words had not yet formed.

Eventually, she was able to tear herself from the space, though she was hesitant to leave. They made their way up a set of back stairs to a hallway she'd recognized. The one leading to his quarters.

Eli guided her through his receiving room. Past the four-poster bed, in the corner was a desk set up near the glass balcony doors. The setup was large—two desks set together in an "L" shape with a keyboard, smaller synthesizer, a portable microphone with a pop filter, and a desktop computer.

If Nora had a setup like this in her room, she'd never have to leave. While the idea was nice, sometimes there was this feeling she got at the studio. Almost like a creative surge with all the tools at her fingertips, the possibilities. She imagined it would be hard to not have a studio. And she hoped she would never get tired of the feeling.

Eli sat in the leather desk chair and rolled it back toward the computer. After a maneuver of the mouse, the screen lit, opening the music program he was in last.

Nora took off her coat and put it on his navy bedspread. His bed was made and perfectly tucked, throw pillows organized carefully near the headboard. "You don't make your own bed," she said.

Eli glanced over to her coat on the bed and then at her, a small frown on his lips. "I make my bed," he said, then shrugged, "the staff always comes in afterward and shows me up."

Nora chuckled. "Get better, kid."

Eli playfully narrowed his eyes at her. Then he pulled a stool out from under the other side of the wide desk. "Why are you all the way over there?"

Reluctantly, she took a seat on the small black stool. "It's safer over there."

Eli put a forearm on the desk and leaned into it. He shot her a look that made her stomach quiver. "I'm not dangerous."

But the expression on his face...

Oh, he was definitely dangerous.

Nora wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and looked at Eli's setup. "You've got quite the spread here." Most she'd ever had in her room was her laptop. Everything else stayed in their studio in the basement. Other than working at her desk, she tried to keep her music away from where she slept. Some creatives and songwriters pulled from their dreams, but Nora only sat up in bed at night and thought about songs. Having her music equipment too close to her bed made her feel as if she should be working, not sleeping.

Eli started up another program; this one a save cloud for files. "I want to show you something."

As he pulled up the files, Nora glanced again at the entire setup. This situation reminded her of her father in a way. Before he passed, he'd often call her down into their studio to have her look at his work and hear the progress. The two of them would sit for hours, talking about the piece to figure out what was working and what wasn't.

Her father had been her first songwriting teacher. And he had also been the best—not only able to sit with her one on one but able to apply the knowledge and help her think more critically. In school, her teachers never had time to talk about more than the overall concepts, let alone show each student how to apply them.

Her father had been amazing. And as their one-on-one sessions dwindled and disappeared, she should've taken the time to talk to him about it. Or notice that they'd stopped happening in the first place.

"—not much," Eli was saying, "but I'd love to get your take on it."

She jolted, her brain finally clicking back into the present. When the words registered, her breath caught. Eli Leonger, Eli Leonger, wanted to show her his work and what he had so far. He wanted her opinion on the piece.

Songs were often private—inner thoughts and feelings carefully arranged into a body of work. He was giving her a gift—an insight into his mind. Not a lot of people got to see this side of him.

She thought about sharing her own work, about the vulnerability that would come with that, and her insides shied away. But, if there was anyone in the kingdom she'd trust enough to open a window to her soul that way, it would be Eli Leonger.

They'd only known each other for the last few weeks. But Nora had seen him with his family—the way he smiled at his sister, the comradery with his brother, and, more, the way his family cared for him. He'd even gone out of his way to cheer her up and get her mind off of things. He was caring despite his wealth, kind despite his fame, and loyal to those close to him. She liked that about him.

She...she liked him.

Biting her lip, she stared at his profile as he brought up another program. From this angle, his jaw seemed stronger, the light from the chandelier over his four-poster bed made his hair look more chocolatey and less dark brown.

Eli Leonger didn't have a girlfriend – it was one of the things all the girls at the Academy knew – and right now, belatedly, Nora wondered why. He was plenty handsome and had the personality too. How had he not had someone in his life?

He was so close, their chairs side by side. From here, all Nora could smell was the soft spice of his cologne and the muted scent of fabric softener. She found herself wanting to get closer.

Nora cleared her throat and sat straighter, hoping her thoughts weren't clear on her face. She awkwardly scratched the back of her head. After a moment, she said, "You're not about to show me your yodeling sessions, right?"

His eyebrows went up, the laughter bubbling out of him. She liked the way the full sound danced across her eardrums.

"I promise I won't submit you to my yodeling sessions," he said, still chuckling.

"Thank Creator."

"That's tomorrow's journey."

She grinned at him and pushed up her glasses. "Well then, show me whatcha got, Leonger."

Eli pressed play. Immediately, she could tell his sound system was expensive. The sound was beautifully clear and full. It was nothing like her own canned laptop speakers or even the speakers in the studio in their basement at home.

The piece Eli played for her started off slow and soft. In the middle of the pre-chorus, the beat kicked in, the synthesized melody following close behind. Eli's own voice flowed out of the speakers, mixing well with the careful creation.

The song was about new discoveries and about living life, despite the difficulties that came with it.

Nora liked the message. She could see a lot of people connecting with the words and appreciating the catchy beat. If it was marketed correctly, this was a tune that would quickly work itself onto the radio.

Eli's voice was soft yet husky. Versatile. Nora imagined him using that voice to soothe, to sing someone to sleep. But, with the right beat behind it, it could also be used to amp up a crowd.

When the piece was over, and the melody faded entirely, he turned to her and adjusted his ballcap. He'd fixed it in the back, but now a dark tuft poked out at an angle from underneath.

Her fingers itched to fix it.

"What do you think?"

All she could look at was that tuft. Her gaze kept flicking back up to it. Don't do it. Resist. Resist.

But it looked so soft. She didn't just want to fix it – she also wanted to feel it. To run her fingers through it.

She swallowed. Get it together, Nora. "I think it's good. More than good."

And it was. Eli had managed to string together chords and, combined with his deep voice and repetitive yet catchy melody, the piece came together nicely.

Eli's shoulders dropped. "Really?"

"Yeah."

His eyebrows came together at the tone in her voice. "But..."

She bit her lip. Then traced the first strand of the instrumental layer up on the computer. She recognized the program – it was the same mixing program she used to compile and produce her own artist's pieces. She was in the program so often, she sometimes dreamed about the familiar black background and colored layers. "Your melody changes halfway through, right before the bridge. But if you subtly reveal this through the first half of the song, even just the beat, it won't seem so jarring to your listener. It'll make it more natural."

Eli nodded slowly. A look came over his face as the corner of his lip came up. "Where have you been all this time?"

A laugh escaped her. "Oh, just around."

Eli bumped his shoulder with hers. "What else?"

She mentally played the song back in her head. There was something about the lyrics... "Do you have a print out of the lyrics?"

He reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out a clump – notes, scraps of paper, a napkin, a receipt from the ice cream shop they'd gone to the other day.

Nora saw the mismatched bundle of lyrics and laughed.

Eli curled his hands around the pile and jokingly pouted. "Hey, these are my lyrics. Respect them."

She giggled – giggled! – and brought her hands up in surrender. "I didn't say anything!"

"You were thinking it."

She snorted, "Okay, Mr. Paranoid. Let's talk about the piece, yeah?"

He sniffed.

She leaned forward, eyes scanning the different layers of threads in the program in front of them. Where was it? Ah. There. She brought her arm up to point out the middle verse. "Your second verse changes the beat right before, but with there being no hints of undertones of this beat, it's a surprise to the listener when it shows up. If you interweave the second beat under the first, or tease part of it, a stripped-down part of it, in the beginning, it'll bring the piece together so it won't feel as disjointed."

A crease appeared between Eli's eyebrows, but instead of getting defensive or angry, he thought about it and nodded. Accepting.

Warmth filled her chest. Especially when he asked, "what else?"

He actually wanted to hear what she had to say. Cared about what she said or thought. Granted, when she left later, he may take her opinion and throw it right out the window, but at least he was listening now.

"Lyrically, you mentioned darkness in the beginning but never mentioned it again. I think it may be good to bring the idea of darkness back around again before the end of the song," she said. "As a way to bring the piece full circle. Listeners subconsciously like songs that come full circle."

Eli pulled out one of the receipts from his pile and grabbed a pen from the collection in the black wire-framed holder in the corner. He scribbled down her notes. "Anything else?"

She pushed up her black frames. "The way you placed the synthesized notes under the beat was terrific. Synthesizers have a way of taking over a song and drowning out the rest of the piece, but we can clearly hear your lyrics and vibe with the beat. It's refreshing."

Eli put his elbow on the desk and turned to face her. "When were you going to tell me you write songs?"

Crap. Had she talked about it? She mentioned it, albeit briefly, but... "I believe I mentioned it."

Eli gestured at his screen. "But not like this."

At a loss, she just shrugged. Better to stay quiet. She couldn't imagine what Mallory or Felicity would do if either of them knew she'd revealed her songwriting to Eli. If they saw her now, she could kiss any future she may have had goodbye.

Despite the excitement flooding like bubbles through her veins at talking music with someone else, she pulled back. Took a deep breath. You can't sacrifice your future for Eli Leonger, she told herself.

"Don't do that," Eli said with a frown.

"Do what?"

"Don't retreat," he picked up one of her hands to cradle it between his. "You have a gift, Nora. That musical ear of yours. Creator, you know what people would pay for that kind of help?"

She frowned. In another life maybe she'd be able to help people compose for money. But this wasn't that life. And she didn't want Eli to push it on her either. Nor did she want him to try and convince her that she was meant for more. She knew that. Was painfully aware of that. Right now, she couldn't afford to try and fight for it. There was too much on the line.

Her father was on the line.

So she played it off by raising an eyebrow. "You played one song. How could you possibly know anything about my skill level based on that?"

Eli stared flatly at her.

Even as he looked at her, her fingers itched to pull out the recorder from her pocket. The ticking of Tessa's car turn signal would go perfect in the background of his refrain, especially when the lyrics mention waiting around for life to begin.

She bit her lip. Don't.

Nora.

Putting up a finger, she dug around in her bag until she came up with the device. What number did she record it over? She held the recorder to her ear and flipped through the sounds.

There. She played it again, this time for Eli. "You could integrate this into the background too during the chorus," she said. Her mind was screaming at her to shut up, but she couldn't help it. "You'd be surprised at how many people connect with a song based on the everyday sounds they recognize."

Eli only looked at her.

She deflated. Crap. It was a stupid idea. She pulled back, "I'm sorry, I'm just inserting myself—"

His hand wrapped around hers with the recorder and didn't let go. Her insides were a strange combination of light and butterflies. As if she could brighten the whole room but also fly away if he let go.

"Tell me something," he said, his hand warm against hers.

"Um, sure?"

"Tell me you're not going to let this get away. Because this—" a disbelieving laugh escaped him as he gestured at her whole body. "—is raw talent."

She wanted to clutch the warmth his words gave her tight to her chest and never let it leave.

"So tell me," he scooted forward on his chair, getting closer to her. "what projects you're working on."

Double crap. She cleared her throat and, somewhat reluctantly, pulled her hand from his grip. She laughed without humor, strangely wanting to cry as she said, "Well, right now, we have that chemistry project. I also have an abilities project due at the end of next week..."

Eli was quiet as he stared at her. After a moment, he sat back and crossed his arms. "You're weird, Nora."

Don't I know it.

Nora checked the time on her phone. She needed to get home before eight to record Felicity's Daxton Cavenaugh Contest entry. Her hope was to get back in time to work on her own entry. She'd gotten her lyrics mostly together, and her melody was half recorded. If she was able to get a couple more sessions in, she just might pull it all together before the admission window opened in two weeks.

But to make the window, she'd have to get her but in gear these next few weeks. Which meant she couldn't spend her limited free time hanging out with Eli Leonger, no matter how much she wanted to.

Someone knocked on the door.

Eli got up and rounded the corner to see who it was. Nora glanced out the balcony doors, admiring the lovely way the sun was setting while she waited.

Her mother loved sunsets. She was an artist in every way that mattered. She appreciated the little things – warm summer nights with crickets chirping in the distance, burnt orange leaves falling from the trees, a gentle blanket of snow in the winter, and, especially, sunsets.

The thought of her mother made her remember both her parents and the way they'd sit together on their back porch to watch the sunsets.

Then she thought of her father.

The sky's dimming, the night rising, and I want to watch it all pass with you.

Her chest squeezed. She scrambled for a pen in her bag and found the first piece of paper she could. That gate is locked tight, and I'll never see the world again with you.

Hmm...she didn't like rhyming a word with the same word. Was that even a rhyme? For now, it would work, but she'd have to play with it a bit. Find a melody that worked well with the words to either hide it or find a way to emphasize it.

Never even a letter, no message, not a text. I have nothing left of you.

Her hand fought to keep up with the stream of lyrics her brain spit out. It was the type of steady stream that took over her. All she could do was try and keep up. She could pick at it all later.

Life is full of regrets, but mine are heavier than most. I'd die to do it all over again. Over ag—

"Nora?"

She flinched, breaking out of her trance, and glanced up to find Eli staring down at her. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

She'd written on the back of a receipt for a high-end shoe store in Medloy village. Eli's own lyrics were still scribbled at the top on the other side.

Crap.

"Can I have this receipt?" she asked.

He crossed his arms and tilted his head. "Only if you tell me what you wrote."

Double crap.

She curled her shoulders inward. If she really wanted, she could just take a photo of it with her camera. But it wouldn't just be about keeping the words. Eli would have access to it if she left it behind. And the other option – to rip it to shreds just so he couldn't see it...the thought had her entire body revolting.

Eli's lyrics were on it too. What if he wanted to keep every little piece, just like she always did in her notebooks? Beginning lyrics were always a treasure. Especially as the eventual song traveled through Musetunes, it was nice to be able to go back and see where it began.

Biting her lip, she turned around on the stool. The receipt was clutched, almost desperately, between tight fingers. "If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell anyone?"

His eyes narrowed, a spark of amusement in them. "Who would I tell?"

She knew he was friends with some of the artists she worked with. And while her gut said Eli was the last person to spread gossip, she didn't want any of her artists finding out she told Eli anything. Mallory had warned her to keep a low profile and to keep her songwriting a secret.

"Sometimes I write songs."

A grin flitted at the edge of his lips. "Regardless of how some magazines portray me, I'm not stupid."

The single admission, albeit small, made the weight in her chest loosen. And his reaction, his easy acceptance without questions, made it even better.

Her grip on the receipt loosened. She blew out a breath. "I like writing songs."

"I'm glad," he said, "you certainly have the ear for it."

"You can't tell anyone."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he grabbed her coat from the bed. "Come on, I want to show you something."