Chapter 42 – Yet Another Party II
Wherein the night comes to an end.
Rose entered the salon where the musicians took their break. They were eating, drinking, and chatting. As open as they were amongst themselves, they closed their front as Rose joined them. A few remarks on the make of instruments were enough for her to be taken up in their group.
She quickly got to know the individuals in the group. There were three groups who had merged for this party. The third ensemble split up to make the other two more rounded in sound for dancing. And then there was a woman who was a little older, who was a soloist, and well-known in their circles.
Rose confessed she had never heard her name, that she either played the streets or attended Bardic College and that she hadn’t had the chance to really investigate Splendor’s music scene.
"There’s not much to explore," one of the men said. "There’s a few music halls for the common folk, decent pay, if you can get on their roster. There’s parties like this, most of us play for rich folk. And there’s Bardic."
"There’s the modern gatherings," someone else scoffed. This got a round of laughs.
One young man didn’t join in. "The pay’s good."
"But it kills the soul!" the first speaker exclaimed.
The young man shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich. "It challenges the listener to experience music differently."
Rose cocked her head. She saw the soloist was oddly quiet.
"Did any of you graduate from Bardic College?" she couldn’t help asking. A round of no’s was her answer.
"I’m a third year student," the young man who did play modern pieces stated. He didn’t look happy saying it.
"Why are you staying?" Rose asked. She could guess as to why the rest had dropped out.
"Because my grandmother’s paying my tuition fees, and wants me to graduate."
Rose supposed that was as good a reason as any.
"Why are you staying?" he returned the question.
"I want my road magic license," she replied. "I’d feel better having that and travelling than going without."
"Why? It’s a useless piece of paper," another stated. This caused a ruckus. The others did or did not share his opinion and were loud about it. Once again, the soloist remained quiet.
Catching her gaze, Rose asked: "What do you think?"
"If nothing else, you should get the license." The woman’s tone was curt. She attempted a smile. Rose saw hurt flashing in dark brown eyes. "And we all should go back to playing, as we were hired to do." She grabbed her silver flute and left the salon.
"She lost her brother on the road," someone whispered to Rose. "He was caught twice, they hung him the third time."
Still in a daze over this revelation, Rose followed them out of the salon and promptly bumped into the one woman she hoped to avoid this night; Brittany of Chaumes. Rose hid her half-eaten meat-filled mini-bun behind her back, for no reason she could deduce herself.
"Look who it is," Brittany smiled, venom dripping from bright white teeth, "the tick who finally learned its place, on the dog’s ass."
Before she could think better of it, Rose lashed out: "Do you even know what the words you're speaking are supposed to mean?"
"Do you?" Brittany mirrored in a mocking tone. Her hawk’s gaze zeroed in on the hand behind Rose’s back. "What do you have there?"
She grabbed Rose’s arm, jerking at it whilst pressing long manicured nails into her soft skin. "Are you stealing pastries?! You’re such a peasant."
Brittany pressed her nose as close to Rose’s as she could without the tips touching. "Get a clue, Fairfields pig. You don’t belong here."
Suddenly, Rose was pushed back. She stumbled, dropping her half-eaten bun, slipping on that. Fabric tore as Rose grabbed hold of something – anything – a standing candelabra in this case. Hot wax rained down on her.
Brittany laughed. It was a cheerless sound, cruel and sharp.
"You are such a b-" Rose started, anger burning in her veins as wax burned her skin.
"Brittany!" a rotund, matronly woman chirped. "How wonderful to see you! I'm so happy you could make it after all!"
"Aunt Hilda!" Brittany turned around, her demeanour as sweet and pliant as Valentina’s.
Before more attention could fall on her, Rose slipped away, to lick her wounds in quiet.
She was ready to be away from the party in general, but there was to be a grand fireworks display at midnight and it was only a quarter past eleven.
Half an hour later, Rose joined the exodus of guests as they streamed towards the front lawn. Outside, cold, and with candle wax still dotting her hair, Rose re-joined her friends. Bosra was easy to spot. She was the tallest in the crowd.
"What happened?" the Highlander woman demanded to know on a low growl.
"Brittany."
The growl intensified.
Rose felt tears well up, deftly wiping them away. "Leave it be, for now." She didn’t want to expend more energy on the topic.
Before Valentina could ask, a bell rang in the distance. Loud and sonorous, it boomed from up on the mount. "The Herald," Valentina whispered the name of the big bell as it rang. "It’s midnight."
Where the sound reached, more bells started to chime. Servants poured champagne. People around Rose toasted to the new year, wishing each other well, when with a thunderous bang the first of the fireworks rockets exploded. Sparkles lit up the sky. Each thunderclap brought more lights into play. Black-powder residue rained down unnoticed. Sulfuric gasses scented the air.
Wizards manipulated the sparkles into shapes of legendary creatures. Against her own expectations, Rose found herself impressed and delighted as a unicorn of golden stars tossed its mane and reared up. Crackles washed over its radiant body, changing colour from gold to crimson and silver.
Bosra saw people coming for her as the sparkles were laid to rest, led by the same moustached guy as during dinner, and grabbed Valentina by the shoulder. "Home. I’m done here."
"Don’t you want to-"
"Please, Tina?" Rose joined in, her voice soft.
"Okay," the third woman sighed.
Silence reigned in the carriage on their way home. Too awake to sleep, too caught up in their own thoughts to talk.
Bosra lay awake, staring at the random bursts of colour that flashed across the ceiling. She fingered the petrified bark pendant.
Buddy… How she missed the bugger.
He had always made an impression at parties. For as much as large lizards could like anything, he had always seemed to like when he was the centre of attention.
Bosra pondered her future. She received her share of job offers tonight. She could take one of them and be free again. Free to go out, slay monsters – animalistic, humanoid, or anything in between – and live day by day.
Except...
She clutched the pendant tightly, feeling the rough edges press into her skin. Bloodshed wouldn’t bring Buddy back. Wouldn’t bring her son back.
Even if she could have a few more good years on the road, sleeping on the cold, hard ground would ruin her back. Her knees ached on cold days and she had started looking forward to the modern comforts of civilised life: hot showers, plenty of soap, half-decent food, and a steady roof over her head.
She rolled to her side. She missed having a clear and concise purpose.
She heaved a sigh.
Work. She missed work. She would be back at it soon enough. Mucking stalls would help her out of her melancholy.
Likewise, Valentina had trouble falling asleep.
Each distant crackle and pop brought the image of a woman seen at tonight’s party back into focus. She was young, a little older than Valentina herself, perhaps. Newlywed, but her husband had no glance or dance to spare for her. Dressed up in finery, she had struck a lacklustre cord. The look in her eyes was as vacant as the house on Stygian Way had been. When Valentina had caught her gaze, she smiled perfunctorily. The smile had done nothing to lift the mask of despair the woman seemed to wear.
Valentina couldn’t escape the feeling, down low in her gut, that in a year’s time this would be her. She would be the puppet whose movements were too jerky to resemble a living being.
At long last, after the barrage of artificial thunder had faded into nothing more than background noise, exhaustion claimed her.
Rose was the only one who found sleep quickly. The party had been a dispiriting end to a week that had started bright. Tomorrow, however, Marissa was taking her to church. Rose could hardly wait for dawn.
