Chapter 36 – Friends and Family

Wherein Rose falls in love.

The music room was as grand as Rose had imagined. Gilded crown-moulding along the ceiling. Beautiful wall hangings and a little podium and chairs added to the opulence of the room. 

There was a spinet, a paddle harp, a display case filled with wind instruments, and, in one corner, enough string instruments to outfit an orchestra. 

Reverently, Rose touched the wood, the strings, the bows. She still had hope for her own violin. Yet here, here were the true masterwork instruments. A fortune on casual display. 

She picked up an alto and a bow. She tuned it, though it barely needed it. The first notes of the song that sprang to mind hesitated to be played. Her fingers found their footing on the unfamiliar neck. 

The sound though... oh the sound... 

Lyrical, deep, pure, and so alive. 

Rose kept playing, lost to the music. 

Valentina sat down on a canapé. She was as enchanted by the music as Rose was. She watched Bosra tentatively lower herself onto an ottoman. The music invited them to close their eyes, and as they did, they were transported to a different time and place. 

Over green fields Valentina flew, over brooks and a coppice of green wood, until she ended on a farm, surrounded by animals of all sorts. Then into a carriage that went round and round on a paved track. A Havanaise that spoke of exotic destinations, of wilderness barely tamed by man. 

As the last notes came to a wavering stop, Rose lowered her bow. Applause resounded through the room. She bowed with a flourish to the audience that had amassed.

Staff had trickled into the back rows of seats from a servant door that had been cleverly hidden in the woodwork. She smiled at them and got smiles back.

Then, she noticed the young boy on the cusp of adulthood, standing just beyond the threshold. He had Valentina’s blond hair, but Rhodum’s angular face. Rose winked at the boy. He blushed and ran off.

Valentina looked over her shoulder in the direction of Rose’s wink, but saw nothing.

"That was enrapturing." She rose. "You’re taking that viola."

Rose agreed.

"Now look for a second instrument. As you can tell, it will hardly be missed."

It didn’t feel right to take more than she needed, but at the same time, this was like a free pass in a bakery. And the Arch-Duke himself had insisted she take more than one.

Paying little mind to her audience, yet noticing that they shuffled out one by one, she looked at the collection anew.

Flutes, harps and harmoniums were not for her. 

A hurdy-gurdy... maybe. She had played one once and loved it.

Her eye stilled on an instrument that was the epitome of bardic tradition: a lute. 

She waded through a veritable sea of strings, carefully setting aside a contrabass and cello, to reach the picking instrument. With her find in hand, she made her way back to centre stage. 

It wasn’t just any lute. Even at a glance she could tell it was a masterwork. The neck was inlaid mother-of-pearl, the pegs were gilded, the belly polished, and the lute had eight pairs of high quality strings.

She took the tortoise shell pick and strummed it experimentally, not even attempting a melodious accord. Like with the alto, the experience of sound was transcendent. She would need no amplification tricks to be heard in the back of the crowd if one filled this room to the brim. 

She started playing, plucking a simple tune, to experiment with sound and technique.

Unwittingly, she created one of those contemporary music pieces her teachers at Bardic College had been wanting to hear. 

A smile threatened to tear her face in half as she found her footing. She played an upbeat tune that gave the impression of a jig.  

It sounded like people dancing, while the jig itself was woven into the background.

The tune died down. The last notes floated through the air, reminding Bosra of butterflies on a sunny autumn day. 

The last servants filed out, closing the door behind them. The panel fitted into the wall seamlessly. One would have to know it was there to be able to find it. 

"That one," Bosra said, realising this was meant to be. "Nightsoul's blessing upon it, upon you, Pupper. That was..."

"I could see the dancers! How did you do that?" Valentina breathed, coming closer to examine the opal inlay on the flat chest. 

Rose shrugged. She’d imagined a fair at home.

"You have to take it!" This was Valentina, who had straightened. "I have never seen it before in my life, but you have to take it."

"There should be cases," Rose said, not willing to risk damage to these two masterwork devices. Just as she started opening cabinets to see where the cases were, a servant returned. He helped her wrap the instruments in silk and box them into their respective cases. Beautiful lacquered cases with polished brass clips and names of prominent artisans engraved in the lid.

Valentina shifted from foot to foot. Then up to her toes and down.

"Come on, let's take them home."

If her father had sent a servant here, another was on his way to inform her mother. She prayed they would make it to the waiting carriage without being intercepted by the wicked witch. 

Rose picked up a case in each hand. "Ready."

"Let's go then." Valentina hurried through the halls, Rose and Bosra hounding her closely.  

They made it to the foyer, accepting their winter cloaks from Jasper, when the hag descended. The clicking of heels on the polished marble announced her imminent arrival.

Venlica breezed past her daughter, to come to a standstill in front of Rose. "If you think you can demand favour from my husband, you are wrong. He may be played like a good-hearted fool, I am not." 

Rose glanced at Bosra. She would know how to handle this.

"If you say so," Bosra remarked dryly. "We're leaving. Good day."

"You will not leave until I say so," Venlica stated, her hand reaching for Rose’s arm.

Bosra stepped in her path before she could grab on. She levelled an intense stare at the much smaller woman.

"Yeah? Who you gonna bring for that?"

Venlica blinked, looking owlish. Then a predator’s smile stretched her skin taut. "There are plenty of guards, my dear. How many do you think it will take to keep you down?"

Bosra shrugged. The hall was empty, as far as she could tell, save for her friends, and the butler.

"Ain’t waiting to find out. G’bye."

She gave Rose a gentle shove towards the grand door. Valentina was already there, waiting. The butler was holding both instrument cases and sported a very neutral facial expression.

"Don't you dare ignore me!" Venlica screeched. 

Bosra continued to do just that. She shepherded the younger, smaller women out the door the butler now held open for them. A footman took the cases and loaded them into the waiting carriage.

A yank on her braid made Bosra’s head snap back. Her exhale came out as a growl. With murder spelled in her eyes, she turned around.

Venlica promptly let go of the long bundled tresses, taking a few hasty steps backwards. A nasty smirk lit up her face for a split second.

"Don't touch me!" the woman wailed, enraging Bosra further.

"I swear it was an accident," she continued. "Please... please, don’t hurt me."

Bosra snorted. It would have been fire, if she had been capable of such a feat. 

"G’bye." She turned on her heel and jumped the three steps in one long stride. She ducked into the cabin of the carriage and let the door be closed behind her. Once again, she had to rearrange her bow to make sitting comfortable.

Through the little window in the door, she locked eyes with the butler. Her gaze told him exactly how much trouble any one of them would be in, should they lie about what had happened here. 

Sitting in the coach, pulled by four beautiful dappled greys, Rose was silent. She hugged the cases to her as she would her children. She exchanged a glance with Valentina and didn't like what she saw on the other woman’s face. Out the window her gaze went. 

"I bet this wasn’t the first time she did something like this…"

"It isn’t." Tina agreed quietly, melancholy in tone. "She just always gets away with it."

"No."

Both girls looked at Bosra. "No?" they asked in tandem. 

"No," the Highlander replied. Anger made her marks stand out stronger. Made her facial features more defined. "Servants talk. Maybe she has a bootlicker or two. But she doesn't have the house." Bosra was convinced of that. 

"No... she doesn't," Tina concurred. 

"Word will travel." Where it would go, Bosra didn't know. She didn't care. She did know Venlica hadn’t won this round.

"Someday she’s gonna drink poison, or get shivved, ‘cause she pissed off the wrong guy." Of that, Bosra was sure. Valentina's mother was too ambitious for her own good.

Valentina did not know what to make of Bosra's judgement about her mother. On the one hand she didn't want to think that about the woman that had birthed her. On the other... that knife could not come quick enough. 

She watched the scenery float by, and heard the clip-clopping of hooves on the pavement. The sound soothed her. The rhythm of four sets was equal and measured. 

"Ey. Tina."

Valentina looked up at Bosra on the seat across from her, bow in her lap. 

"She ain't no-one to me. Gotta let it go."

Rose let go of one case long enough to grab Valentina’s hand. "We are your family now."