Violetta’s face turned wondering. Cara pitched her voice as the villagers turned back. The children were the ones who really perked up.

She’d just gotten to the highest point in the melody when Cara saw one of the villagers grimace. But Violetta was listening to the strings playing and trying to copy the sound with her bow. A girl gave Cara a gap-toothed grin.

When Cara finished, she heard laughter. It came from the children gathered around the well.

The adults hated it. Violetta was asking what the song was and Cara was trying to explain the iPhone as well as the genre of pop when a villager walked over. He was a [Farmer]—and he politely asked Cara to stop singing.

“I can sing something more placid—”

The man shook his head and looked at Violetta.

“It’s too noisy. We need Violetta’s music. Not…that.”

Crestfallen, Cara saw Violetta put up her bow and begin to play. But the children had loved the music!

She had seen their faces light up.

And again, Cara had misjudged her audience. This time she’d gotten half of the village on board. But the other, older half didn’t want what Cara was singing.

The [Singer] stomped off. She—felt a bit guilty as Violetta’s somber music filled the air once more. But she’d been trying to bring culture to Landsmecht! She’d tried art. And then she’d tried popular music.

The cello’s music drifted after her, bringing a resume to the calm harmony of the village. Cara went to kick rocks.

——

…She could have found a middle ground. But those guilty thoughts only surfaced after Cara had kicked around the village for a bit. The truth was, she didn’t belong here. Not in this quiet place in the middle of nowhere. She had left her hometown to get away, to make a start. Now she was here.

What was she doing in a place like this? As Violetta broke for another drink and snack, she shyly came over. Cara was sitting, head-down, on a bale of hay.

“I’m sorry, Cara. I liked the music. But it doesn’t fit here.”

The Irish [Actress] blushed. She’d been meaning to come over first. She looked up at the young woman and shook her head.

“I knew that. I lost my temper. I’m sorry. It’s fine. I should have known my audience. I was excited and—

it was stupid.”

To her surprise and gratification, it was Violetta who shook her head.

“Oh, no! Father and the others didn’t like it, but I did. So did Hernon. He said as much. It’s just you can’t work to it.”

“Who?”

“He’s over there, planting.”

Violetta pointed at a young man a few years older than her. Cara brightened up a bit. Violetta went on, gushing.