Ilia shook her head. “I was her teacher, but it would be more accurate to say that I assisted in the performance. I cannot claim to be the one responsible, that would be—”
“—Emily, right?” I said, rudely butting in.
Ilia looked at me for half a second but then nodded. “Yes, Emily. She’s quite a girl. Can’t sing more than adequately, but she used what talent she has brilliantly.”
I didn’t want any extra attention from this. It would only lead to me repeatedly answering the same questions I had with Cassandra this afternoon. I didn’t mind it once or twice, but if word got around, I would spend the rest of the night having to repeat myself due to being 500% more interesting because I was incarnate.
After spending my morning riding in a carriage, I wasn’t in the mood to put up with the hassle.
Wolfkin turned to me. “You didn’t have anything to do with it? I ask only because I’ve been wondering how you managed to be seated at our table.”
Ilia chuckled musically. “Arnold, the poor dear, happened to be in the music hall while I was practicing. He’s currently charmed and under my care until he develops some level of resistance.”
Wolfkin blinked. “How badly is he affected?”
“Completely,” Ilia said. Everyone who was listening suddenly looked at me with varying degrees of sympathy—some, like Wolfkin, were outright concerned. “I’ve caused this effect numerous times. With my assistance, he will gain some level of resistance within a few hours. By tomorrow morning, he will only be partially charmed. His mental resistance should grow to the point where he can deny me within a week. Until then, he will have to enjoy my company.”
I grinned. “That is as easy as breathing.”
The meal finished after the twentieth course and the plates of food were cleared away. The tables vanished as easily as they had appeared and the guests began migrating to different rooms. There was dancing, singing, poetry, and boys fighting with unsharpened blades. Everywhere nobles seemed to be competing in some form.
Ilia and I were wandering through a small library, waiting for our turn to pay our respects to the regent, when I heard the familiar sound of Malia singing.
I turned to the corner of the room.
Malia was seated in a chair, wearing an elegant dress entirely different from her usual ostentatious attire, gently playing her guitar. She sang softly, not trying to draw attention but create a comfortable atmosphere for others.
Ilia followed my gaze. “You know her?”
Know was too strong a word for our relationship. It was more accurate to say that she used me. She’d barely been interested in me once I’d finished going through my socialite rite. It had taken me a day to track her down and ask her out to dinner. Dinner consisted of barely any conversation on her part, finally ending with her outright stating she wasn’t interested in me as anything more than a bedwarmer.
That kind of hurt.
Not enough to turn her down when she asked if I wanted to go back to my place, but I mean, it still sort of hurt.
“She brought music back into my life. I played the guitar in my world and didn’t realise your world had them until she stayed at an inn I was visiting.”
“If that was all there was, you wouldn’t be looking at her like she had been your lover.”
I chuckled. “You are as intuitive as you are beautiful.”
“No, dear, you are just obvious. Would you like to say hello or run away? She hasn’t seen you yet.”
I changed direction twice before I finally started walking towards Malia.
Ilia chuckled.
We were about halfway there before Malia spotted me. She gave me a small smile that was barely above polite, and then her gaze fell on Ilia. She missed a note. Her smile widened, lighting up her face. It was like a garden of wildflowers in spring.
If Ilia had been a guy and we were competing over Malia, that smile would have told me Ilia had won and it was over. The fact that she wasn’t still told me it was over. There was never going to be anything between us. That didn’t bother me on an intellectual level, because I’d accepted that already, but my ego still took a hit.
I thought about it more and realised the smile made a lot of sense. Ilia was amazing. She deserved that smile and every other. It was only right that Malia had that reaction.
Ilia and I came to a stop beside Malia and waited for her to finish the song and transition into one that was purely instrumental. The smile never left her face.
I cleared my throat. “Bard Malia, may I introduce Master Bard Ilia. Master Bard Ilia, may I introduce Bard Malia.”
Malia actually blushed. “I am honoured to meet the royal songbird. The bard who made the king weep. I hope to one day perform a feat a tenth so worthy.” She was gushing, talking a little too fast.
Ilia was unimpressed. “You will need to master the basics of our class if that is your intent,” Ilia said calmly. “Relying on promotions, abilities, and an exotic instrument will take you no further than what you have achieved here.”
Malia nodded. “Thank you for the advice.”
“You are welcome. However, your thanks should be directed to Arnold. I would not have offered these words freely if he did not know you.”
Malia nodded again and finally turned to me, still playing gentle music. “Thank you for the introduction, Arnold.”
I shrugged. “You’re welcome. You’re like, one of the five people I actually know at this ball, so it would be kind of rude not to say hello.”
Malia gave a husky chuckle. “How did you get invited then?”
“You know, the usual way. I discovered an exploit for noble experience and the regent invited me here to learn what it was.” I was trying to be charming.
Malia stopped playing.
Ilia looked at me with open horror.
Malia lost all friendliness in the time it took her to take a breath. “Please, Arnold, if you have any care for my wellbeing, walk away and forget you know me.”
This was not the reaction I expected.
Ilia tightened her grip on my arm and began leading me away before I could reply. She dropped her voice to whisper when we were halfway across the room. “Is that truly the reason you are here?”
“Yeah,” I said, still confused by Malia and Ilia’s sudden change.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
She sighed. “I guess I didn’t. So then, I guess you would know Emily’s parents.”
“I know her father, Jeric, but I’ve never been formally introduced to Emily or Jeric’s wife, Isabelle.”
“So when I asked you why you were offering your assistance, and you said you were just trying to be helpful, what you really meant was you were just trying to be helpful to her father.”
“No, I was trying to be helpful. If I had the same knowledge and didn’t know Jeric, I still would have given the same suggestion.”
Ilia groaned.
“I’ve caused you some sort of trouble, haven’t I? Would you like all my money by way of apology?”
“Yes, you have, and no, your money is your own.”
This clearly had something to do with the regent, I suddenly realised. I was lucky I had something that could help. “Would you like me to tell the regent my exploit? From what I’m told, she really wants it and it’s worth a fortune. I’m sure it will fix any trouble I might have caused you?”
“Be quiet for a moment. I need to think.” Ilia led me from the library down the hallway to a closed door. She opened it and pulled me into another empty hallway before closing the door behind us. “I need you to focus for a moment. You said you’ve created an exploit for noble experience and that’s the reason you are here. I need to know if you actually want to give the regent this exploit, not for me, but for your own reasons. Tell me in detail.”
I spent several seconds trying to frame my reply. “To be honest, I didn’t even want to be here until I heard you sing. I had important business
to attend to in Weldon before the regent invited me. Not that the invitation was optional. And I really don’t want to just give her the exploit, but I’m willing to sell it to her if she will pay. But everyone keeps telling me she won’t pay until she’s tried to strong-arm me into giving it to her for free. And I really don’t want to give it to her for free. It’s worth a lot of money. Do you want the money when I sell it?”
Ilia groaned again. “No, I don’t want the money, Arnold. Try to remember that you don’t want to give it to me either. It’s just the effects of being charmed. You need to fight against those impulses to please me.”
“I am.”
“Well, fight harder.”
I thought about that for several seconds and then pinched my arm because I had felt the impulse to offer her money again. The pain gave me enough of a push to stop myself from voicing the offer. “I think I can do that.”
“Good boy,” Ilia said.
“I just had an idea,” I said excitedly.
Ilia sighed. “What is it?”
I grinned at her. “Will the trouble I’ve caused go away if I’m dead? I could hang myself or jump off the palace roof.”
Ilia grabbed me by the shoulders and slammed me into the wall, showing that her strength was a whole lot higher than my own. Her eyes sang into my soul as she forced me to look at her. “Do not kill yourself, Arnold. I told you to fight the instructions I give you, but this is not one of those instructions. I am telling you unequivocally do not kill yourself. It will not make me happy and it will not help my singing. You must stay alive.”
“Okay, I can do that.” I started checking for pointy objects that I might slip and fall on. I couldn’t be too careful. Ilia’s singing was at stake.
Ilia kept staring at me, shaking her head.
They cleared the great hall. No tables. No chairs. No guests. The only ones left were the regent and her family. Everyone else had migrated to the other rooms where Emily and the other nobles were showcasing their talents.
A servant broke from his position by the door, approaching us as we walked up to the entrance of the great hall, following the highlighted indicator on the ground.
He bowed, turned to me specifically, and cleared his throat. “I am sorry, sir, but you must display your name and either your class or a class title for the herald to announce you.”
Ilia released my arm as her husband approached, smoothly changing partners.
I opened up my interface and displayed my landlord title with my name. “Is that sufficient?”
The servant blinked. “Yes, sir. I apologise for the inconvenience.”
“It’s fine.”
“Do you know the protocol?”
“No.”
“Simply follow three paces behind the master bard and her husband. Stop when they do. Bow to the regent when they do. And when the regent says your name and ‘Welcome to my home,’ say ‘Thank you for the invitation, I am honoured to be here.’ If the regent asks you any other follow-up questions, then you may reply; otherwise say nothing. Follow the master bard and her husband when they leave.”
“I can do that.”
The servants nodded and returned to his position beside the door.
Ilia’s handsome husband Jeremby turned and smiled at me over his shoulder. “How is the mental resistance coming along, Arnold?” He’d told me, when we first met, that his wife had to babysit someone like me every other month and he was quite used to it by now. His cheerful demeanour reinforced that.
“I’m still no further along than when we started,” I said, honestly. My disappointment over being incapable of doing what Ilia asked me to was obvious.
He shrugged. “The first step is always the hardest, once… oh, I think we’re up.”
Jeremby turned to face the hall and changed his position to make it less awkward for Ilia. Then they walked to the door and stopped.
I followed behind.
The master of ceremonies who had announced Emily slammed his staff against the ground and loudly proclaimed, “Master Bard Ilia, and her husband, Adventurer Jeremby, with Landlord Arnold.”
Ilia and her husband began to walk forward with me three steps behind.
Entering the great hall was like stepping into a hunter’s trophy room or a museum, only instead of deer, the heads on the walls belonged to monsters, none of which were smaller than an elephant. The heads came in all colours and textures, changing from scales, to fur, to hardened stone-like substances. There was nothing as mundane as a troll or ogre present, only exotic large insect creatures and other bizarre monstrosities. It was an impressive collection. And at the very crown of it, above the regent, was a dragon’s head, its jaw open wide enough for me to walk into.
I was so distracted by the collection I was halfway across the room before I lowered my gaze to the regent’s throne.
The back of the beautiful silver throne housed hundreds of gold peacock-styled feathers encrusted with jewels. They fanned out six feet on either side, enhancing the simplicity of the delicate silverwork that was the throne's seat. The throne’s thin legs seemed far too fragile to support a person's weight, let along the woman who sat upon it.
Regent Katella looked every inch the Amazonian warrior I’d heard she was. She had large shoulders and firm, impressive biceps and calf muscles. Despite the obvious strength, her face had unwrinkled, soft, attractive curves. She was stunning. Not what you would expect to see when you thought you were meeting someone in her mid-eighties.
She had eyes the colour of dark polished wood and her dirty blonde hair was in a tight elaborate plait that hung over her right shoulder. Her dress was an open hanging piece of blood-red silk, which clung to her body, emphasising her physical power, with a cut down one side that started just below her hip.
She was the most scantily clad woman I had seen at the entire ball, and yet her state of dress, I was sure, had nothing to do with attraction. Every gap in the fabric was skillfully placed, allowing the most range of movement. If violence broke out, she would be ready. Somehow, I knew that on an utterly instinctual level.
She was a warrior; everything else came second.
I followed, taking everything in, coming to a stop when Ilia and her husband did. When they bowed and curtsied, I bowed. When they rose, I rose.
The regent smiled at Ilia. It never reached her eyes. “Master Bard Ilia, it is good to see you again.” Her voice was somehow powerful enough to crack a walnut without losing any of its femininity.
“I am honoured, Regent.”
“No, it is we who are honoured. You have outdone yourself with Noblewoman Emily. I gave you less than a week, and you created a performance that has changed the way scholars will view the test of song for the rest of history.”
“Actually, Grandma, it was incarnate Arnold’s idea,” Cassandra said, pointing at me.
My gaze tried to move from the regent to Cassandra, but it had to pass over her mother to get there.
Her mother was utterly breathtaking and more beautiful than any woman on earth could ever be. She calmly reached out and caught her daughter’s finger, and lowered her arm. “We do not point.” Her voice felt like satin. She had the same ringlets as Cassandra, but her eyes contained all the blue in a still lake instead of the green in a summer meadow. There were no bulging muscles, just curves that drew the eye in an endless pattern.
“Arnold, you are ogling again,” Ilia whispered.
I pulled my eyes from Cassandra’s mother back to the regent. She was looking at me, her beautiful face entirely neutral. “What do you mean by ‘it was his idea,’ Cassandra?”
“I mean, it was his idea. The whole performance, though he can’t actually sing. He’s terrible—”
Why does she have to keep saying that? It was more honesty than the conversation needed.
“—He was in the music hall when we arrived and was playing funny songs on a guitar while Emily practiced. One of them made me laugh and I went and asked where he learnt it and discovered h
e was an incarnate. We talked about his world and then started talking about Emily and her ascension ball. I told him she wasn’t going to succeed because of her poor singing, and he went to Ilia and taught her the song Emily sang, suggesting how she should present herself. Master Bard Ilia understood what he was attempting to do and improved it so that it was brilliant, but the initial idea was his.”
The regent frowned at Ilia. “Is this true?”
“Yes, Regent,” Ilia said. “Landlord Arnold saved Emily’s performance.”
“Is that why he is here with you?”
“No, Regent, he was in the music hall playing a guitar when I arrived. I thought nothing of it and made the mistake of practicing my craft to its full extent. He was charmed. It was an accident. One that I am currently correcting.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “He didn’t seem charmed. Shouldn’t he be trying to kidnap or rape you?”
My eyes widened. Was it really that common that even Cassandra knew? It made sense that she knew, but the fact that she spoke of it so casually disturbed me.
The regent turned to her granddaughter. “Musical charms are different from those of physical beauty. They cause obsession, but it is an obsession with sound. He will follow any order Master Bard Ilia gives and any order he imagines she gives. If he thought it would please her to kill himself, he would do so.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Cassandra said. There was a level of childlike disbelief in her tone.
“He’s already offered,” Ilia said.
Cassandra looked at me, worried. “You didn’t?”
I shrugged guiltily. “I caused some trouble and thought it would help her. I now know it won’t which is why I’m staying away from sharp objects.”
Cassandra caught her mother’s hand and held it, clearly worried for me. She didn’t need to worry. There were no sharp objects nearby.
“Back to the matter at hand,” the regent said, looking at Ilia. “Landlord Arnold has information I want. You will let him share it with me.”
Ilia shook her head. “If this information is the exploit for the noble experience, then I cannot. The subject has already come up and I have learned his personal feeling on the matter. He is willing to sell that information to you if you wish, but he does not want to freely give it to you.”
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