Expensive. Reel to reel. Turntable. Tall black speakers beside the bookcase. She pulled out a sketchbook amongst many and brought it to the desk. He q...ickly made room, setting the Royal typewriter aside. She opened the book. The first page. Demons. A set like hell. At the center a fragile woman. Lean and blonde. Constance. The real Constance knelt in front of the albums. Found the one she wanted. Put it on. Avant-garde. Menacing. Beautiful.“A friend composed this when I asked her to,” Constance. ‘Ye believe me know do ye?’ ‘Aye. He magic’s wore off when she was away from me for so long.’ Cien looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. I stared back into them, trying desperately to remember that he loved me and he still wanted to marry me even though he knew I wasn’t of his time. He still loved me. Unconditional love. He was trying to get me out of here so I wasn’t going to be killed. But right that moment, with his eyes as cold as a winter sky, it was hard to remember. It was cold hate. More

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