Olga and Renato seemed right out of a sports manga. The only reason they hadn’t grabbed each other’s hands yet was the proper distance to be maintained between noble young men and women. Regardless, I felt the need to support them with everything I had. I smiled fondly.
“Now that this is settled, Lady Yulnova, I have another request,” Renato said, turning to me. “Could you teach Olga a song the previous empress would like?”
I started. “M-Me? Teach her a song?”
“Yes. That ‘As I Am’ song was wonderful, but considering the lyrics and composition, I feel like it was made for young people.”
That was a fair assessment. It was the theme song of an animated movie, so the main target audience was children and teens, right?
Looks like the name of the song in this world is gonna be based on the Japanese name, huh?
But singing one hit doesn’t mean I know what the previous empress would like!
“I think a song of yours would be worthy of being presented to the previous emperor and empress, even if it’s not ‘As I Am.’ To be honest, I’m interested in the other songs you’ve written, regardless of this. Could you sing a few for us?”
I didn’t write anything at all! All I did was translate the Japanese lyrics into the language of the empire. That’s all!
I’m sorry... I’m so sorry!
I’d gotten kind of addicted to translating song lyrics since I’d tried my hand at doing the theme song of Project Something. It was good mental exercise too.
I never thought it would lead to this, though...
The other songs I’d translated were either J-pop or from musicals. There was no way the previous empress would like J-pop.
Unless...
There was one song among the ones I’d translated already that came to mind. It was a J-pop song, but it had been well received by the rest of the world. The lyrics were refined, so maybe...just maybe...
Renato and Olga seemed to have read from my expression that something had occurred to me, and they both looked at me with sparkling eyes.
That’s not my song either, though. I’d decided to stop popularizing songs from my past world willy-nilly, but... Ah! Damn it!
Dear composer, dear lyricist, dear singer, I’m so sorry for stealing your debut song!
I’m really, really sorry!
Tumultuous days lay ahead. Although, to be honest, they’d mostly be tumultuous for Olga and Renato.
Renato immediately approved the song I sang.
“What a graceful, beautiful song. The charm of ‘As I Am’ lies in the constant modulations of the melody, but this one is a lot more relaxed. There is a classical feel to it that I can picture the previous emperor and empress enjoying, even without being used to this style. It’s innovative, but not too innovative. Your writing is so versatile, Lady Yulnova. I must endeavor to do better myself.”
You’re not the problem, Renato! I screamed inwardly.
I still wasn’t sure why Renato was the one deciding which song Olga would sing, but Olga seemed to trust him. He’d more or less become her producer overnight. Well, given his talent and the knowledge he’d gained about the former empress’s musical tastes and the empire’s musical trends through his relationship with Lydia, he was the best person for the job.
Olga seemed pleased too, and she started humming. Her complexion looked better already.
“It’s such a gentle song,” she said. “It’s very soothing but also powerful and dignified. I can feel courage rushing through me. It also seems more novel than any of the trendy songs I heard at the sanctuary. It’d be an honor to sing it!”
The song I’d sung was derived from an original piece about Jupiter that had been composed a century ago and was beloved worldwide. In Japan, several songs had been inspired by that original piece, but the one I’d translated had remained popular for roughly twenty years after it’d come out, so it had staying power.
Well, twenty years ago and a hundred years ago from the time I’d died in my past world. In this world, which was less advanced, the 1910s were the future, so it felt novel to Olga and Renato.
The adviser of my choir club had been a huge fan of that song, so we’d sung it more times than I could count. She’d also blabbered about it for hours. That was why I remembered the lyrics by heart, and why I knew the composer of the original piece had been English, not German, like I’d once believed based on his name.
I loved the song, but it was really hard, so practicing it with the choir had been hell. Still, it was a great song, and I’d kept on singing it often at karaoke after I’d graduated from high school. To sing it alone, you needed a broad range and great control over your falsetto. Thankfully, Olga had both. I could barely manage it, but I knew she’d be able to perform it for real.
“Let’s practice together whenever her ladyship’s eyes aren’t on either of us,” Renato said.
Lydia forced him to play for her daily, but that was only during her free practice sessions. She had a professional pianist accompany her during her formal lessons with her instructor, so Renato was available during that time. Once she heard that she’d be singing in front of the previous emperor and empress, there was no doubt Lydia would enlist the help of her instructor pretty much every day after school. That would make time for Renato.
“I’ll make your voice shine the brightest!” he exclaimed.
A producer—and perhaps a merciless coach—was born.
Mikhail wrote to his grandfather and promptly obtained permission to organize the visit. After abdicating the throne, the previous emperor and empress had moved to a detached palace on the edge of the capital to distance themselves from the center of power. The two lived a rather secluded life and had more than enough time on their hands for visitors.
According to what he’d told me, Mikhail had barely touched upon the fact that he hoped his grandfather would praise Olga to stop the Selesnoas from changing the law in their marquessate, but the previous emperor was not just anyone. He’d ruled and knew how to read into the euphemisms Mikhail used.
Likewise, the previous emperor had indicated he’d help through subtle euphemisms.
Mikhail showed me his reply. Seeing the handwriting of a former emperor with my own two eyes made me shiver. Either that reaction meant that the class system of this world had been deeply ingrained into me, or that this was all a bit much for me as a former commoner. I couldn’t tell which.
Anyway, his handwriting was beautiful, and the way he worded his sentences was so masterful that it could have been called an art. However, what caught my eye the most was one specific passage:
The name of the young Yulnova lady who will accompany you has reached my ears on several occasions despite the reclusive life I lead. Her achievements remind me of my dear brother-in-law’s own, and I must confess that I long to meet her. My songstress and I also anticipate your visit, dearest grandson, so we may see how much more vigorous you’ve grown since we last laid eyes upon you.
The previous emperor had heard of me? What had he heard, exactly? I was scared to find out!
On another note, I loved that he referred to his wife as “his songstress.” The pair had married for love, and their relationship seemed to still be going well despite the years.
“See, I told you there was no need to worry. He’s a kind person, and you’re Duke Sergei’s granddaughter. You’re special to him.” Mikhail grinned.
The former emperor did sound nice, but I was still super stressed, and my lips twitched as I forced a smile.
Despite my own worries, I did everything I could to support Olga.
First, I wrote a letter to Madam DiDonato asking her to come to the Yulnova residence in the capital every weekend to teach Olga until the day of our audience.