Alori slept fitfully that first night, waking every time she heard muffled music coming from one of the adjacent rooms. By morning she was cursing Tomso's insistence that she stay in the bards' dormitory. It was distracting enough, knowing that her future husband was likely asleep in his bed somewhere down the hall, at a much closer proximity than she had anticipated.
Why hadn't Hamoni criticized the impropriety of such an arrangement?
Add to that conundrum the fact that the bards were allowed instruments in their rooms, and encouraged to play whenever the mood struck, and Alori had a mind to repack her trunks and demand different sleeping arrangements for the remainder of her stay. But she didn't want to come across as a spoiled, ungrateful royal. Her reputation as the future queen was too delicate to risk over a trifling inconvenience such as a lost night's sleep. Rumors traveled fast around the capital of Ville-Saseum, and Alori had no doubt it would be the same at the Conservatory.
A break with tradition would be inadvisable. If this was what past Shieldmakers had endured, what her mother had endured to meet her father, then Alori would do the same without complaint.
When the hour was appropriate, she dressed herself in one of her day gowns, which was far more comfortable than the traveling dress she'd been stuck in for an excessive amount of time yesterday, and left the dormitory to find Hamoni, who had been more appropriately accommodated in the guest hall.
Both corridors were quiet except for the occasional passing staff member in their basic blue and gray livery.
Had the bards gotten up so much earlier than Alori, without making a commotion? She doubted they were still asleep, but she didn't hear music.
Alori put a hand to her head, checking that her loosely coiled braids were still in place where she'd pinned them. Despite her grandmother's objections, she had declined to bring her heavily pregnant lady's maid on their trip, insisting that she could get by on her own for a few days. Of course, now Alori realized why Hamoni had suggested they bring one of her sister's maids or an undermaid from the palace along. There were no female staff at the Conservatory, and no one but her grandmother to help Alori behind closed doors should she need it. But Alori wasn't a shrinking violet, nor was she particularly elaborate with her dress. In fact, she was finding that she quite liked taking care of herself. Magic was of great use with common feminine issues like pesky corset strings. Although typically she wouldn't use magic for such trivialities, this was an exception, and no one would suffer for her modest indulgence. At least, she hoped not.
"Today you will get to know the bards," Hamoni announced straightaway, using Alori's arm for increased support as they traced a path to the dining hall.
Morning light filtered through the glass ceiling, falling on the walls and floor at dramatic angles. They passed through the bars of pale sunshine, shielding their eyes against the brightness illuminating tiny dust motes in the air.
"Good," Alori said resolutely. "I was planning to speak with the players from the trio."
"They were brilliant, weren't they?" The marchioness' cheerful smile softened the deep age lines around her mouth.
Alori shrugged as if it was of little consequence, even as her nerves begged to differ. "I'm sure it was orchestrated to be impressive, Hamoni. The trio played last, and Tomso said himself they're the best of the bunch. He must assume I'll select one of them to become the next bard prince."
"Won't you?" Hamoni squeezed her granddaughter's forearm, then gave it a decisive pat. "The two with dark hair seem like fine young gentlemen. I'm not so sure about the other, the Dunden with blue hair. I found him rather cocky."
"As did I." A commiserating smirk tugged at Alori's lips before her thoughts shifted to more complicated territory. "But he played very well..."
"Indeed. They all did. I suppose you must give them each a fair chance, even the arrogant ones." Hamoni stopped just outside the archway into the dining hall, leaning in toward Alori's ear to whisper, "But if it were up to me, I would choose the cello player. So handsome, with that curly hair and those cheekbones."
"Hamoni!" Alori laughed, shaking her head as they took the final steps into breakfast together.
What had gotten into the old woman?
Then again, Alori wasn't feeling quite like herself either.
♫♫♫
The bards were gathered around the long trestle table in the dining hall, all twenty-one of them. Alori assumed correctly that the vacant seat at the center of the table, between Taelan and Reeve, had been saved for her.
A server pulled out the empty chair and waited for her to sit. Yuka was directly across the table, opposite Alori. Their eyes met as she unfolded her napkin and smoothed it onto her lap, his flashing with the disdainful teasing she'd come to expect.
"Good morning, Your Highness. Did you have a restful evening?"
Alori turned her chin to address the polite, soft-spoken greeting that hadn't come from the Dunden.
"Good morning, Reeve," she said kindly. "To be honest, no, I didn't sleep well. But perhaps that's to be expected when in an unfamiliar bed."
Yuka raised his eyebrows. Hamoni stifled a chuckle, sharing a look of thinly veiled amusement with Tomso, who was sitting at the head of the table. The two of them were like antique bookends ensconced in identical, oversize wing-back chairs.
Alori sighed. What must the bards think? Either that she was used to sleeping in unfamiliar beds, or that she was completely inept at expressing herself with the sophistication expected of a future queen.
What a disgrace. Alori had been trained in propriety all her life, and knew better than most how to conduct herself in social settings, but this was different than anything she'd faced. One of these men was going to be her husband, not years from now, but months, or perhaps weeks if she was decisive. It was utterly disconcerting.
Yuka leaned back in his chair, stretching his long arms like a cat after a particularly pleasant nap. "I understand, princess. Strange beds are always unnerving until one becomes accustomed to them."
Alori glared at him. Exactly how many strange beds had he frequented?
On second thought, she had no desire to find out. But she was pleased to note that his voice was higher pitched than either Taelan's or Reeve's, more tenor than bass, and possessed a nasal quality that worked wonders at undermining his pretty face.
She hadn't noticed yesterday, but this morning his flaws had become all too obvious.
"It's Yuka, right?" She met his intrepid hazel gaze without blinking.
How easily could she ruffle his proud feathers? she wondered.
"Yesterday you answered a question I didn't ask. I believe you said, 'I chose this path because I wanted to.'" When he shrugged in agreement, she smiled with confidence and continued her thought. "You must live here at the Conservatory, if you're in the running to become my consort, but it sounds like you're well acquainted with familiarizing yourself with strange beds." She took a quick sip of tea from the steaming mug in front of her. "So tell me, Mr. Ellis– since I must take everything you say into the highest consideration, and I can't have a wanderlust for a husband– are you a faithful sort of man?"
Taelan chuckled under his breath, an alluring sound like the rumble of thunder before rain. Alori was surprised by the raven-haired bard's unguarded response and curious about his connection to Yuka.
Were the two of them friends or rivals? A little of both?
Yuka leaned across the table, bearing his weight on his elbows. "I've cleaned up my act just for you, my lady."
She hadn't expected such a direct answer, and it flustered her. Taelan was fidgety as well, his fingers gripped tightly around the wide bowl of his juice tumbler, like he'd crush it.
"I'd heard tales of your great magical power and incomparable beauty since I was a boy, so naturally I endeavored to meet you, the princess who helped the queen save Ville-You when she was but a child." Yuka sat back again, laying his slender hands on the arms of his chair. "I knew that you would choose a bard as your consort, and I happen to possess a talent for music, so the path was not a difficult choice."
"You heard this about me all the way in Dundenbirk? Magic isn't so important there as it is in the Ville-Realms. Unlike Cardosia, your country has no vested interest in our affairs."
"That's true, but I only lived in Dundenbirk a year. My father was a traveling merchant who didn't care to stay in one place long. My mother was too sick to be at sea, so we ended up in Ville-Saseum in search of a mendmage who might save her."
"I see... I'm sorry to hear about your mother's illness. I hope your family wasn't disappointed when they arrived in this land-locked place threatened by demons."
He waved off her platitudes, a sentiment she understood all too well. "Dundens are adaptable. We have to be, the sea is a fickle mistress. My parents have both passed, but they liked it here. They were happy to see me come to the Conservatory. I'm sure they're looking down on me now, proud of how far I've come."
"I'm sure they are." Alori swallowed the growing lump in her throat. She stared down at the plate of fruit and eggs a server had delivered, just noticing them.
That had not gone as planned. Not at all.
"Yes, our Yuka's tale is full of woe and triumph." Tomso tore a roll in two and stuffed one buttered half into his mouth, sharing another goofy smile with Hamoni.
Alori didn't understand her grandmother's interest in the tacky old conductor. Tomso was unattractive and had poor manners. The marchioness could have any silver fox she wanted, so why did she seem so taken with this graying, owlish lump?
"Let's not dwell on such things, shall we?" he harrumphed.
For a moment, Alori wondered if Tomso was answering her thoughts, but then she remembered what they'd been talking about. Yuka.
"Who else wants to regale our young princess with a more– mmm– cheerful tale?" The conductor's bushy eyebrows shifted as his gaze drifted around the table.
Alori found it difficult to listen as others attempted to draw her into conversation. It surprised her that any of the bards had auditioned at the Conservatory solely for the opportunity to meet her, most of all Yuka, but it shouldn't have been a shock. She was the Crown Princess of the Ville-Realms, and whomsoever she chose as her consort would become a prince.
Instant status, wealth, and the privilege of having their music threaded with her magic would be the prize of the bard who won her heart. Was that what Yuka was really after?
Alori was looking forward to the experience of working with the bards, but only His music lingered in her mind. She wanted– no, she needed to hear her favorite songs played by the composer's own hands. Not in a trio that sought to confuse her, but by the one whose music spoke to her magic like no one's ever had.
There was nothing artificial or exploitative about His intentions. Somehow, she knew that much was true.
It might be a futile endeavor, but she wouldn't kid herself anymore. The identity of her enigmatic composer was important. It mattered more than she'd realized.
♫♪♫
When breakfast ended Hamoni asked Alori in confidence which bard she'd prefer to chat with first in the courtyard garden. There wouldn't be time to meet with each of them in one day, but if they kept to a tight schedule she could speak to the majority of the men for a few minutes. It was a start, however weak.
Alori hated to be so regimented, but this was one of the most important decisions she'd ever make, and mistakes were a luxury she simply couldn't afford. She was sure that either Reeve, Taelan, or Yuka was him-- her composer-- but on the off-chance she was wrong, and for the sake of being fair to the others, she needed to give each bard his due attention.
Taelan's name was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit back the urge to request him. Whenever the raven-haired bard looked at her, she clammed up like she was seven years old again. If she was smart, she would use these next several hours to gain the confidence to face him.
Practicing conversation with the others seemed like the best course of action. Reeve had been polite and courteous, and was one of the best musicians at the Conservatory. It seemed prudent to choose him first, and neither Tomso nor Hamoni looked surprised when Alori said as much.
Promptly the curly-haired bard was called to attendance, and Reeve and Alori set off on a casual stroll, wending their way through the quiet stone pathways of the garden. Alori stopped occasionally to admire a water feature or a particularly beautiful flower, play-acting as if their little tete-a-tete wasn't orchestrated.
Her hair caught on the light air currents flowing down through the vents in the courtyard dome, sending loose strands from her braid fluttering against her cheek. The mild intermittent chill was the only reminder that outside the Conservatory it was the middle of winter.
"Tomso tells me you're a multi-instrumentalist," she said after a few minutes of companionable silence had elapsed, in the hope that she might eventually gain insight into the dynamic Reeve shared with Taelan and Yuka.
"Yes, Your Highness." He paused near the central fountain, a stone carving of a fictional representation of a young mage queen with her bard prince, the latter plucking a lyre which produced arcing streams of water. "In addition to cello, I also play piano and drums."
Him too? Would they all play piano?
Alori pressed her gloved hands together, fighting the urge to sigh aloud. "You're all such great talents. May I ask which instrument you prefer for composing?"
Reeve's easy smile shifted. Would he lie to her? He seemed an honest sort, but that didn't mean he would be forthright.
"Is it uninteresting if I don't have a preference? I love all instruments, including the voice." His face became flushed, highlighting the prominent cheekbones that had won her grandmother's recommendation. "I've heard you have a very beautiful singing voice yourself, my lady."
"I didn't know the rare occasion of my singing was a topic in anyone's conversation, much less an accomplished musician like yourself, but thank you." She frowned, turning toward a bench facing the fountain. Alori hadn't sung in years, and had never made it a public affair, so how had he known about her childish hobby? Had Hamoni been gabbing? "Would you sit with me, Reeve? I'd like to ask about your performance last night, and your relationship with the other bards in your trio."
Reeve kept a respectable distance between them, tucking down the loose sides of his sky blue tunic so that nothing of theirs touched on the bench, including their clothing. "Taelan is my closest friend here," he said without preamble. "I was shy and lacking confidence when I arrived, but he saw the potential in me. He's young but wise beyond his years."
The fact that he would compliment his friend so graciously in the midst of a competition said as much about Reeve's character as it did Taelan. It also made her wonder how invested Reeve was in the outcome of her visit.
"That's kind of you to say." She watched the water flow through the fountain, leaning back on her hands. "And what about Yuka? He's a terrific musician, but his personality seems at odds with the two of you. Is he also your friend?"
Reeve rested his hands in his lap, massaging his fingers in what appeared to be an unconscious habit. "Yuka takes some getting used to, and sometimes it feels like he's always scheming, but he means well. I would trust him with my life."
"Really?" That was a surprise. Entrusting one's life to someone else was no small responsibility. "Well, thank you for being plain with me. I appreciate your candor."
"For all that you do for the Realms, you deserve the truth. I would never lie to you, Your Highness."
"I didn't think you would." She reached out to pat his shoulder and he jerked away as if her touch stung, his lightly freckled cheeks flaring red underneath his deep tan for the second time in as many minutes.
"I'm so sorry," Alori stammered, thrusting her hand back down. "Please forgive my manners. It won't happen again."
"Your manners are perfectly acceptable, my lady. I'm the one who should apologize." His shadowed gaze sunk to the stone path at their feet. "This might cast me in a poor light, but I must confess that I'm wary of being touched. It's an anxiety of mine."
Alori didn't suppose she could feel any worse for breaching someone's personal boundary, however innocent her intention. Having been under intense scrutiny for as long as she could remember, she was acutely aware of how uncomfortable unsolicited attention could make someone feel.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I understand entirely. It's easier being the one who reaches out, less so when you aren't expecting to be touched."
"Please don't cater to me, Your Highness. The fault was mine in overreacting to your kindness."
"Why don't we agree that neither of us is at fault?"
Alori smoothed her skirt as if brushing away the awkward moment, then lowered her voice as she would when whispering gossip with her sister Liahfey. There was something about Reeve, about his cautious honesty, that made her feel free to speak her mind.
"My intention in requesting these chats is to get to know each of you, so that I can make the most informed decision. Some may think of this as a purely romantic endeavor of mine, but it's more important that I choose someone honest and hardworking to become my consort. Whomever I select will become my partner not only in marriage, but also in protecting the Ville-Realms."
Reeve leaned against the back of the bench, crossing his legs. The red on his face was fading, and he seemed to be calming down, which was a relief. "I understand, my lady. You'll choose the musician who best complements your own skillset. The two of you will be working in tandem and will need to have great respect and consideration for one another."
The two of you.
Was Alori projecting, or was Reeve hinting that he didn't expect and possibly didn't even want to be chosen?
The notion that any of the bards would be against marrying her hadn't crossed her mind. All this time she'd imagined getting to know the bards would be like cultivating any other healthy relationship. They'd meet, discover each other's personalities, find friendship and perhaps love if they were lucky. The music would be a bonus, the frosting on top of a well-built cake.
But it wasn't going to be like that. Reeve was right, Alori was in a unique position. She was the crown princess, and they were the Ville-Realms' most talented musicians. One of them wrote the loveliest pieces of music she'd ever heard; and once the composer's identity was revealed, she wasn't sure she'd be able to accept anything less.
Her mother would roll over in her grave if she knew the direction Alori's thoughts were headed.
To distract herself from falling down a rabbit hole of worry, she forced herself to contemplate Reeve's unique personality. It was possible that he intended a less lofty career path than the one she could offer, one where his music might be sent to aid any number of the Ville-Realms' licensed shieldmages, those who lived along the nation's borders and kept a close eye on the shield for thin spots and breaches. Supplying the shieldmages with sheet music was an important job, and it would be significantly less stressful than taking on the mantle of the bard prince.
Alori didn't always want to deal with the responsibility of being the crown princess and Shieldmaker either. Sometimes she dreamed about a simpler life, although she wasn't so naive to think that a simpler life meant things would be easier. Her father had taught her never to look down on those with less, that they were as important to the queendom's health and prosperity as anyone else.
"Thank you for walking with me, Reeve."
He followed her lead, starting back toward the door closest to Tomso's office.
"I'm glad we had this chance to talk, just the two of us." After a beat, she added, in a quiet tone, "It's helped me put some things into perspective."
"I'm glad, too. We all want you to make the right decision."
They all did? What exactly did he mean by that?
Alori still had more questions than answers, not the least of which being what she'd do if Reeve turned out to be her secretive composer and she felt no attraction to him whatsoever, or he to her.
That would be a tricky situation, indeed.
♫♪♫
"Are you having a hard time making heads or tails of us, princess?"
It was approaching evening and Alori couldn't recall how many of the bards she'd circled the courtyard with, but the rigmarole was starting to make her dizzy. If she had to go one more round through the gardens, stopping at the same statues and pretending to be enchanted with them for the twelfth or fifteenth time, she was sure something humiliatingly unrefined would escape her lips.
"To tell you the truth, Yuka, yes. I'm so sick of this courtyard. I feel as though I may lose my lunch." She kneaded the area between her eyebrows with two fingers.
"Would you like a change of scenery? You know–" he added, winking, "the courtyard isn't the only attractive feature of the Conservatory."
"A change of scenery would be wonderful," she said, ignoring his obvious attempt to get a rise out of her.
"Are you a fan of the fine arts? There's a gallery not far from here. We won't even need to take the stairs. And who knows, we may spy someone painting. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Alori glanced across the path at him. "You're painters as well as musicians?"
"I myself can't be bothered to mix and match paints, but some of us find it therapeutic."
She followed Yuka out of the courtyard and back through the halls of the academy, which were starting to become familiar. The late day sun cast deep golden tracts of light through the glass ceiling in the opposite direction from earlier.
It was probably unwise to make conversation with such a shamelessly opportunistic partner, but Alori had little choice.
"I must compliment your performance last night, Mr. Ellis. Is the piano your primary instrument for composing?"
"Ahh, getting right down to it, are we?" He chuckled. "You'll be asking all three of us this question, I presume?"
His gaze was trained on the corridor, leaving her to analyze his sharp profile for any sign of a hidden meaning. Besides his usual sarcasm, she couldn't detect an undertone.
"Reeve claims he has no preferred instrument, and I've yet to talk to Taelan. But yes," she admitted, unashamed. "I plan on asking all of you. Can you blame me?"
One of Yuka's lean, broad shoulders rose with minimal effort, as if he could hardly be bothered. "I suppose not."
"I don't understand why any of you should feel the need to hide the answer." Alori crossed her hands in front of her waist, allowing a small hum of consternation. "I may be younger than the three of you, but I've lived among sycophants all my life and, quite frankly, I'm tired of petty games."
Yuka stopped outside a closed oak door with an ornate flourish carved into its center, rounding on her with an impertinent twinkle in his eyes. "Has anyone ever told you how refreshing you are, princess?"
"Never," she retorted. "Usually I'm expected to hold my tongue, but I made an executive decision and decided that you're the kind of man who wouldn't want me to feign ignorance of your charade. Someone tilted the song 'Secret,' for goddesses' sakes. You must have expected I'd be a clueless chit, or else you assumed that I would catch on." She hoped that her steady gaze was unnerving him, but she had her doubts. "At this point I'm only unsure whether the three of you are in on it together, or if this is all your doing."
"I see." He reached for the S-curved doorknob, taking a measured step away from her. "Since you've figured out this much, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you the rest. In fact, it might be fun."
Alori set her teeth. "Do you make all your decisions based on how much fun you might have?"
"Of course, why shouldn't I?" He tugged the door open, grinning as he sidestepped to let her through first. "Let's take a circuit of the gallery, shall we? I'll whisper my secrets into your ear as we walk. Do we have a deal?"
"I don't know. Do you promise not to scandalize me?"
"I'd only do that if you asked me to, my lady."
Alori shook her head, at a loss for words. Yuka was too much, entirely too much. But she allowed him to take the lead, because what else could she do? She needed to know what he was hiding from her.
Gas lamps hung from woven chains inside the gallery, supplementing the weakening natural light as sunset crept across the sky. The interior walls were covered with large framed oil paintings, and more canvases in varying degrees of completion stood on dozens of paint-splattered easels arranged around the room, their creators either busy at work or relaxing on the gallery's smattering of couches.
Taelan was among those present, which wasn't all that surprising for some reason. He was seated behind an unfinished painting of a mountainous wintry landscape. Alori wondered if it was meant to be Ville-You.
"Let's start over here, Your Highness."
Heads turned at Yuka's voice, conversation and brushes stilling as the men realized the princess had entered their sanctuary. Alori instantly doubted her decision to accept Yuka's invitation. She felt Taelan's intense gaze on her back but didn't turn around for fear of what his expression might reveal.
Was he annoyed that she'd infiltrated his private space?
Yuka bent toward her ear as they came upon the first framed piece, a quaint still life of fruit on a round table covered by a woven yellow cloth. "It will seem like I'm telling you about the paintings," he whispered, "but really I'll be explaining the rules of this game to you."
How could he? After she'd told him how sick she was of being toyed with.
"So you are teasing me." She turned her chin up in indignation and their faces came criminally close.
"Oh yes, and it was my idea." His eyes gleamed with delight. "All three of us are involved– Reeve, Taelan, and myself– but only one of us is in love with you."
Yuka had been holding her arm as they walked, but now Alori pulled back. "Are you serious?"
"Very much so. One of us is so besotted with you that he cannot stand the thought of you choosing another."
"If that were true, why wouldn't he tell me himself? What's the point of this silly game?"
"We all know whose compositions you prefer, and they may or may not be his. He wants you to choose him fairly."
Yuka guided her forward with a casual gesture, then rewrapped his hand around her arm. Engrossed in her own thoughts, she hardly noticed.
So the rumors of her having a favorite composer had made their way to the Conservatory, after all. Hamoni hadn't been making it up.
Alori gritted her teeth to stanch her anger. "Let me set this in order. You don't want to tell me which instrument you prefer because it may give away which one of you is the composer in my favor, and you don't want to tell me who's in love with me, because whoever it is wants me to figure it out on my own?"
"That's right, princess. You've got it."
"What's in it for the other two? Why did they agree to such a ridiculous scheme?" She was pretty sure Reeve had no desire to become the next bard prince, so that left Yuka and Taelan.
One of them thought he was in love with her?
"That is for us to know and you to find out, Your Highness."
They had made their way around the circular room and back to the door. Yuka squeezed Alori's hand, then released her arm. She hadn't meant to be so obvious, but found her eyes darting to Taelan's easel. It didn't appear he'd made any progress on his painting, although there was so much white on the canvas it was hard to tell.
She stepped nearer Yuka as they exited the gallery. "If Taelan is the one who fancies himself in love with me, he must be upset by your gross familiarity. If I were to play my hand at this abhorrent game of yours, I wonder if I might ferret him out sooner."
"You think Taelan is your secret admirer?"
Alori bristled. "I didn't say that. I don't know who it is... yet."
"Well, then." Yuka gave her his best indulgent smile, his white teeth glistening in the deepening shadows of dusk. "I fully endorse you playing the game, and I sincerely hope that you win."
Was that so?
"And if I don't pick the right man?"
His smile fell. "Then you will be breaking all three of our hearts, Your Highness."