“That’s not for you,” Leoff said with a good deal more force than he meant to.
“I’m sorry,” Mery said, drawing her shoulders in.
He found that he was breathing hard. Didn’t I put that away?
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault, Mery,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left it out. It’s something I started, but I’m not going to finish it. Don’t give it another thought.”
She looked pale.
“Mery,” he asked, “is anything wrong?”
She peered up at him with wide eyes.
“It’s sick,” she said. “The music—”
He knelt and clumsily took her hand with his maimed one. “Don’t think about it, then,” he said. “Don’t try to hear it in your head, or it will make you sick. Do you understand?”
She nodded, but there were tears in her eyes.
“Why would you write something like that?” she asked plaintively.
“Because I thought I had to,” he said. “But now I think maybe I don’t. I really can’t explain more than that. Do you understand?”
She nodded again.
“Now, why don’t we play something happier.”
“I wish you could play with me.”
“Well,” he said, “I can still sing. My voice was never extraordinary, but I can carry a tune.”
She clapped her hands. “What shall it be, then?”
He fumbled through the music on his desk.
“Here we go,” he said. “It’s from the second act of Maersca. It’s sort of an interlude, a comical side story to the main plot. The singer here is Droep, a young boy scheming to, ah, visit a girl at night.”
“Like my mother used to visit the king?”
“Umm, well, I wouldn’t know about that, Mery,” Leoff temporized. “Anyway, it’s nighttime, and he’s under her window, pretending to be a sea prince from a very distant land. He tells her he speaks with the fish of the sea, and he explains how word of her beauty has come to him under the waves and across the world.”
“I see it,” Mery said. “The bream tells the crab, and the crab tells the bluefin.”
“Exactly. And each has a little theme.”
“Until we get to the porpoise, who tells the prince.”
“Exactly. Then she asks what he looks like, and he tells her he is the fairest of all who live in his country, which is true, in a way, since he’s made the country up.”
“No,” Mery said. “That’s still a lie.”
“But amusing, I think,” Leoff said.
“The melody is, anyway.”
“Ah, a critic already,” Leoff said. “But to continue, she asks to see him, yet he swears that only by magic was he able to come to her, and if she gazes on his face, he must return home, never to come again. But if she should lay three nights with him without seeing his face, the spell will be broken.”
“But then she’ll know he lied,” Mery said, puzzled.
“Yes, but he reckons that by then he will have managed to, well, ah, give her a kiss.”
“That’s a lot of trouble to go through for a kiss,” Mery said dubiously.
“Yes,” Leoff said, “it is. But that’s how it is with boys his age. You wait until you’re a little older, and you’ll see exactly how much trouble the young men will go through to win your attentions. Although I suggest that if one should ever claim to be from some far-off land, one you’ve never heard of—”
“I should insist on seeing his face.” Mery giggled.
“Exactly. So, are you ready to play?”
“Who shall sing the woman’s part?”
“Can you?”
“It’s too low for me.”
“Well, then,” Leoff said, “I shall sing falsetto.”
“And the duet?”
“I’ll improvise,” Leoff replied. “Here, we’ll skip the part where’s he’s introducing himself and get straight to the song.”
“Very well,” Mery said. She put her fingers to the keys and began. Under her influence, the accompaniment bounced even more boisterously than he’d imagined it might.
He cleared his throat as his cue arrived.
I have heard from the sea,
From the denizens of the sea,
Across a thousand leagues
The report has come to me
Of a lady so lovely
In such afar country
That I, the prince of Ferrowigh
Must hurry here to thee
You were bathing near the birm,
Admired by a bream
Who told his friend the crab
Who came scuttling by just then
And the crab told old bluefin
Who told a skate or ten
That I, the prince of Ferrowigh
Must come your heart to win…
For the first time in a long time it occurred to Leoff that he was happy. And more than that, optimistic. The terrors of the past months receded, and he felt as if good things actually might happen again.
He realized that he believed Ambria’s promise of escape, had believed it from the moment she’d told him. But in a way, it didn’t matter now.
“Well, aren’t we all jolly?” a feminine voice interrupted. He jumped.
Areana was standing inside the doorway, watching them. She hadn’t spoken to him since the morning she had found him with Ambria.
“Areana!” Mery cried. “Won’t you join us? We really need someone to sing the part of Taleath!”
“Do you?” she said skeptically, her gaze fixed on Leoff.
“Please,” he said.
She just stood there.
“Come on,” Leoff said. “You must have heard us. I know you want to sing it.”
“Do you?” she asked coldly.
“I want you to sing it,” he answered.
“I can start again,” Mery said.
Areana sighed. “Very well. Start it again.”
Mery grew tired a bell or so later and went to take a nap. Leoff feared that Areana would leave, as well, but instead she walked over to the window. After a moment’s hesitation, Leoff joined her.
“There’s something going on at the great wall, I think,” Leoff said. “At Thornrath. There’s been smoke for days.”
She nodded but didn’t seem to be looking at the wall or at anything else, for that matter.
“I thought you were very good singing Taleath’s part,” he attempted again, “although it’s not the part I wrote for you.”
“There will be no part for me in this travesty,” she snapped. “I won’t do it.”
He lowered his voice. “I’m only working on it to keep Robert from hurting you or Mery,” he said. “I’ve no intention of performing it.”
“Really?” Her gaze met his and softened a little.
He nodded. “Really. I’m working on something quite different.”
“Good,” she said, looking back outside. He struggled to find some way to keep the conversation going, but no acceptable words offered themselves to his tongue.
“You’ve made me quite foolish, you know,” she said, her voice sounding thick. “Quite foolish.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“That makes it worse. Why didn’t you tell me about you and Lady Gramme? I should have guessed, I suppose. She was your patron, and she is beautiful, and skilled, and you get along famously with Mery.”
“No,” Leoff said. “I… there was nothing to tell until the other night. She came—I was unprepared…”
She laughed resentfully. “Oh, yes, and so was I. And there’s no hiding I had the same idea. I thought I might ease your pain and I—” She began crying and gulped.
“Areana?”
“I was a virgin, you know. Not so fashionable in Eslen, but out in the poellands it’s still something to be…” She waved her hands helplessly. “Anyway, that’s gone. But I thought if I was with someone kind and gentle, someone who wouldn’t try to hurt me, I might wash it away, what…”