Valentin still held Sergei dear to his heart. Lydia had brought up my lineage, which had prompted him to mention my grandfather...obviously a plus for me. Smart as she was, Lydia had realized that trying to undermine me further would only backfire and quieted down. The reports of my poor health seemed to have been canceled out by my powerful mana.
I felt a lot better now that Lydia had been forced to eat her words.
Thank you for making that happen, Prince! You’re getting more reliable by the day, aren’t you?
Wait, isn’t it better for me if they’re all convinced I’m unfit to marry him?! But on the other hand, I don’t think I could stomach Lydia getting what she wants either...
No matter what, I wasn’t supposed to look smug, right now, was I? As a noble lady, that wouldn’t have been proper. I did my utmost to remain composed and look down to avoid seeing Lydia’s face. I didn’t need to see her to sense she was seething.
This was the moment the former empress chose to address us, her voice serene. “I’m eager to hear your music. Are you ready to start soon?”
Lydia lifted her head at once. She glanced at me as though she meant to ask me something, then immediately turned back to Clementina with a smile.
“I’m ready to sing at any time,” Lydia announced.
Mm, I get it. She’d briefly looked at me to make it seem like we’d agreed on the order with our eyes, but she’d planned to steal the initiative the entire time.
It was a sensible plan. Performing after a talented singer would only make one’s shortcomings more obvious. We used to lament whenever our turn fell right after a very strong team at choir competitions.
When Lydia stood up, her expression shifted. It was like she’d forgotten about me entirely. She walked toward the stage, her eyes straight on the relief of the God of Music.
The chamberlain who’d been standing quietly near the previous emperor waved his hand, and a young man appeared from the wing of the stage. I assumed this was the professional player who accompanied Lydia during her lessons, and that she’d called him over for her performance. He walked straight to the piano, so I was pretty sure it wasn’t his first time at the detached palace.
Lydia stood in the center of the stage with imposing confidence and bowed to her audience. At that moment, the slender young lady before us appeared much bigger. Then, she opened her mouth.
This was my first time listening to Lydia sing, and if I had to sum up my impression in one word, it would have been: spectacular.
She’s amazing—truly amazing!
The song Lydia had selected was from an opera about Pyotr the Great. This scene depicted Lyudmila, the first empress, encouraging Pyotr before an important battle and professing her love to him. Its patriotic nature made it an excellent piece to perform in front of members of the imperial family, and Lydia sang it magnificently. Her voice was gorgeous, and she knew how to project it. Had this theater been filled, everyone would have heard her, all the way to the last row.
Her voice was pitch-perfect, and her technique excellent. I could not find the slightest fault with it, and it was honestly hard to believe I was listening to a high schooler. The fact that she’d mocked my mother minutes prior had already disappeared from my mind as I lost myself in the sound of her voice. Renato had said her voice drew people in, and it was true. But he’d been right about something else too—there was nothing fun about this.
Her singing was just right. It was subdued when it had to be, explosive when it had to be. Her voice echoed and carried, and the timing of her every breath was calculated with composure. Her vibrato even made my heart shake to its rhythm. In singing, technique served a purpose—delivering the music to the listeners. Outstanding technique hit you straight in the heart. I was impressed and thought her performance was interesting.
But something about it bothered me. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on what.
When I’d listened to Olga at the musical evening, it’d seemed as though my soul had been swept away. I didn’t feel that way with Lydia. Maybe it was because she sounded so self-satisfied, or because the two of us were fighting, but my heart didn’t resonate with hers.
Still, when she finished singing, I clapped harder and louder than anyone else. Reaching such mastery had to have taken years of complete dedication. I had to commend her diligence if nothing else.
Lydia walked back to us.
“You sang wonderfully,” Valentin said. “Your technique has gotten even better.”
Lydia’s cheeks flushed as she curtsied. Then, she smiled at me, like she’d just made sure of her victory. “I can’t wait to hear you sing, Lady Yulnova.”
I smiled right back. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I will not be singing today.”
For the first time, Lydia lost her composure and showed her feelings on her face. “What?”
“It seems like you might have gotten the wrong idea. The song I sang at the little event we held with my classmates was surprisingly successful, so Prince Mikhail suggested I let Their Majesties hear it—the song,” I said, emphasizing it with a smile, “not my singing.”
Understanding dawned on Lydia’s face, and her features twisted in a mix of anger and surprise.
“Unlike you, Lady Selesnoa, I haven’t been practicing my singing since I was a child. I couldn’t very well have Their Majesties listen to my crude technique. Instead...” I looked at the chamberlain, and he bowed before giving a signal. “I invited two of my very talented classmates in the hope they’ll please Their Majesties.”
On the stage, under the gaze of the colorful relief of the God of Music, appeared Olga and Renato.
Renato escorted Olga to the center of the stage. Since they were in front of the former emperor and empress, Renato had donned formal wear. His white hair contrasted with the black of his formal uniform, making him look quite debonair. He and Olga both had small builds, so they struck an excellent balance as they walked together. They almost looked like two porcelain dolls.
Olga usually tied her chestnut-colored hair with a large ribbon, but today, it flowed down her back, looking all soft and fluffy. I’d sent a few maids to the detached palace with her ahead of time, and they’d styled her hair for her, creating lovely waves. Since ribbons were her trademark, they decorated her chest and sleeves instead. In the center of each of them, an emerald shone brightly. This was the sort of extravagance the House of Yulnova, a great producer of precious stones, could easily afford.
Olga wore a pale green A-line dress layered with a delicate silk outer robe. The collar and sleeves of the outer robe were decorated with frills, and the back extended into a long train. The outer robe was crafted from a special silk known as “prism silk,” which shimmered in the seven colors of the rainbow. Though it appeared white at first glance, its hues shifted beautifully with every change of light.
She was actually wearing a dress straight out of my horrible grandmother’s collection. I hated to admit it, but I had to give one thing to the old hag: She’d been a tall, cool beauty. I’d had my maid modify the dress quite a bit for the petite, adorable Olga. It now looked like a brand-new dress.
While the frills enhanced Olga’s cuteness, the train and the ever-changing hues of her dress made her look like a fairy—or perhaps a shaman of some sort—and lent her an air of mystique.
You’re so cute, Olga! I really love that antique, mysterious feeling you’ve got going. It matches the stage so well!
I struck a triumphant pose in my heart. You’ve done amazing, my dear maids!
“Please allow me to introduce them to you, Your Majesties. This is Lady Olga Florus and Lord Renato Selesar, two of my classmates. They’re both vassals of the House of Selesnoa.” I beamed at the former empress. “The House of Selesnoa and its vassals are known for their great musical talent, of course. I must say I found myself entirely enthralled by their talent at the musical event my classmates and I organized a few weeks ago. Lady Florus has only just started devoting herself to the study of music, but I believe she may have a place in our empire’s music world in the future. I was eager to have you discover new talents, which is why I invited them here today.”
“They’re vassals of House Selesnoa, you say...” Clementina repeated, intrigued.