The Song of the World (nanowrimo13)

Chapter 2

He desperately hoped he was right.

A knock came at the door. Someone scuttled towards it. There was whispering at the door. He ignored it, still studying himself in the mirror. 

“Sir, the King awaits,” a servant came up to tell him. Not for the first time in his life, he wondered what the boy’s name was. Never mind – it didn’t really matter. Did anything really matter? As long as he could sing, everyone sought to serve him. It didn’t matter if he knew who they were. 

He strode out of the room, ignoring the unsettled feeling in his belly. His head ached as much as ever despite the soothing drinks he had ordered and the massage he had demanded. 

He stopped abruptly. 

“Sir?” someone enquired.

“I forgot my baton,” he said, turning back to his room.

“Sir, the King is waiting.”

“Well, he can wait. I need my baton with me this morning.”

“We will send it to –“

“No. You will not touch it,” he said, harsher than he intended. He took a deep breath. “Please ask Beauty to bring it to me.”

He stepped into the dining room, a rush of memories hitting him.

~

The dining room was at least three times as big as their mansion back in Chai. Small lanterns floated across the room, casting soft light across the faces of the nobles who glided across the room. Song stared at them, mesmerised. A small lantern, like a wispy cloud, came to hover over his upturned face. He reached out to touched it, and it gently danced away just out of reach.

Song looked around at the softly murmuring crowd decked in fine cloth, mostly dark and staid, proud looks on their faces. A handful of colour seemed to flit amongst them, mainly younger ladies in sweet pastels. There seemed to be a steady flickering shine all across the room.   

The little whispy lantern butted softly against his shoulder. Song turned to look at it, a vague look of confusion on his face. It bumped him again and moved a little away, wiggling as if it were beckoning him. Song looked around. In the corner of the room, an old man sat, staring at him. He stared back. The little lantern bumped him again and Song turned toward it and followed it as it led him away. He threw a look back, but the old man was gone. 

"Watch where you're going," a sharp voice said. Song mumbled an apology as he swerved to avoid a tall, dark lady. "Children these days," he heard her gripe to her companion, "really need to be taught manners."

“Sorry,” he mumbled again, but she had moved away. He turned his attention back to the little attention-seeking lantern.

"Pretty, isn't it," someone said near him. 

"Very. It's mesmerising," Song answered, looking at the speaker for the first time. He was a short, jolly looking man. His eyes twinkled at Song as he smiled.

"So you're a singer," he said.

"Yes - well -"

"Sing us a song."

"Here and now?"

"Why not?"

"But wouldn't disrupt the festivities for the night? What would the king say?"

"Ah, but if the king himself orders it -"

"Are you - oh my, Sire, I mean, i - but..."