Their connection to her birth house seemed to have caught the former empress’s attention, and she studied them intently.
I’d intentionally flattered House Selesnoa while introducing them, not only out of respect for the former empress but also to prevent Lydia from objecting. However, that didn’t work.
“Wait!” Lydia exclaimed, her voice ice-cold. “They are vassals of my house, yet I haven’t been made aware of this! To invite them here without informing my father or myself is unthinkable...”
Under the class system of this empire, she had a point. I’d intentionally hidden all of this from her, so I’d been expecting her ire, and it was probably justified to some extent. However, the next thing Lydia did, all the while trembling in anger, was something a noble lady should never do.
She pointed her finger at Olga. “That girl in particular should not be here! Under the laws of the Selesnoa Marquessate, she has no right to show herself in front of Their Exalted Retired Majesties. Her rank does not award her that honor! Rank and order are the foundation of stability. Lady Yulnova, do you wish to disrupt this empire’s stability? How could a lady of one of the three grand ducal houses plot to harm our great empire?!”
Oh boy...
I hadn’t been expecting that sort of reaction, and I was more shocked than mad. What sort of country fell into chaos because a young girl sang in front of a retired emperor and empress?
The thing was, Lydia looked dead serious. I imagined that was what she’d been taught growing up, and she believed every word she’d just said. She probably intended to strengthen the class system after becoming empress and was convinced that she’d be doing the empire a favor by doing so. Her beliefs were the product of a sheltered upbringing, intensified by a teenager’s natural perfectionism and tendency to push things to extremes.
What is Big Sister Ekaterina supposed to do with you? I couldn’t let her insults slide—the prestige of the Yulnovas was at stake. Hmm. How should I answer?
Before I could reply, however, a calm voice intervened. “Stand down, Lydia.” Despite the former empress’s calm, the slow, unhurried words carried an aura of majesty that made it hard to ignore them. “Where do you think you are? The laws of the Selesnoas only carry weight within the boundaries of your marquessate. Here, in the home of a retired emperor, the mere mention of them is absurd. He might have abdicated the throne, but you are still in the presence of His Imperial Majesty. You, that young girl, and all the people of this great nation are his vassals. Never forget that again.”
Lydia’s face paled. She quivered, but I saw anger in her eyes, not fear, as she gawked at the empress. Clementina was from the House of Selesnoa, but she wouldn’t support her even though she was in the right. Lydia couldn’t understand why.
As far as I was concerned, the empress had said something reasonable. It was only natural that the laws of the marquessate would apply only in the marquessate. However, history had proven that women who married into powerful families often tended to favor people from their birth families, regardless of right and wrong. Luckily, Clementina didn’t seem to be like that. I was thankful for it.
Neither Valentin nor Mikhail said a word. They’d probably judged that leaving this matter to Clementina was the best course of action. I’d heard that Clementina was a reserved woman, one who had struggled to behave like an empress during her time in the role, but she now projected dignity so effortlessly.
That’s an empress mother for you! You’re so wonderful, Your Majesty!
I was worried Lydia might have scared Olga, though.
Is she okay...? My gaze found hers, and I was surprised to see Olga smile at me. What a relief. She seems calm.
“I...apologize for my rudeness...” Lydia murmured. She mobilized the noble lady skills she’d been nurturing her entire life to cut her losses and sat back down quietly.
Once Renato confirmed that everyone was ready to listen, he whispered something in Olga’s ear. She nodded, and he walked to the piano.
It’s finally time...
At the thought, my nervousness grew tenfold. I clenched my hands over my knees. It was far too late for such worries, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the choice of the song was right. Was the arrangement good enough?
No, it’ll be fine.
My choir’s advisor had made us listen to this song until our ears practically fell off. Besides, the original piece on which this song was based—“Jupiter” from Holst’s orchestral suite The Planets—had more or less been turned into a second national anthem in England, just with a different set of lyrics. It had to mean the melody was appropriate for state functions. A former emperor and empress would like it.
They have to!
Olga stood alone at the center of the stage, and she bowed to Valentin and Clementina. I’d made her go through a crash course to improve her bows, and it had worked—she was very elegant.
She straightened her back and took a deep breath.
There was no instrumental intro in this song; the singing and the accompaniment started at almost the same time. However, Renato’s arrangement had Olga sing the first line entirely a cappella, higher than the original melody.
Even though most of the pop song I’d translated had Japanese lyrics, the first line of the song was originally in English. When I’d written the song in the language of the empire, I couldn’t keep that distinction, but I’d tried my hardest to make the words scan like the original: “Every day, I listen to my heart.”
Olga opened her mouth, and those words echoed out as she held the final sustained tone using her entire body. Her voice rose like the tide, turning into a gorgeous yet sorrowful falsetto that rose toward the heavens. Her voice was much louder than one could have expected from such a small body. It filled the entire theater.
In the original, the first line had been much lower. It wasn’t like Olga couldn’t sing it—she had a surprisingly wide range thanks to her grandmother making her do vocal exercises and practice those regional songs that reminded me of Japanese folk songs. Her grandmother’s training had given her voice a unique beauty and flexibility, so she could have sung it just fine in the original key. However, getting the notes out wasn’t all there was to music. The same song could give off an entirely different impression based on the way it was arranged. That was why Renato, Madam DiDonato, Olga, and I had spent a lot of time considering how best to present this song to the former emperor and empress to efficiently win their favor. We’d decided on every detail with this sole idea in mind, and Olga had practiced again and again to get everything down to a T.
This song would feel quite unfamiliar to Valentin and Clementina, so the idea was to adjust them to the world and atmosphere of the song and let them feel the beauty of Olga’s voice from the get-go. The vibrato and long sustained notes were there so they’d get a sense of Olga’s technical skills too.
Olga delivered exactly what we’d agreed upon, and her clear voice swept over the theater.
Ah... It’s so beautiful.
Next to me, I heard the former emperor let out an admiring sigh. As for the former empress, she listened without a sound. Her eyes were glued to Olga.
Just as the echo of the last note of the introduction faded, Renato started playing. The second line—“I’m not alone”—melted into the sound of the piano. The following lyrics about hearts being linked, stars shining in the sky, and miracles being real floated through the air one after the other.
The sky was overcast today, but as the falsetto that had charmed me so much soared toward the heavens, I felt as though I could see the stars that were hidden behind the thick blanket of clouds.
Olga’s singing had peculiar effects on me, it seemed. Now that I thought about it, I’d very clearly seen a full moon the last time I’d listened to her perform.
In my mind, I couldn’t help but automatically compare her to Lydia. I’d been impressed by Lydia’s technique, but Olga’s pitch, volume, stability, long tones, and vibratos were as good as hers. But for some reason, I didn’t get hung up on technique when I listened to Olga. What came to mind when I listened to her was something else entirely.
One can only know love through loneliness, I thought.