“You know…people are people. Have I met violent Drakes? Possibly. Have I met violent Humans?

Again—people are people.”

The young woman seemed to be impressed by the vague platitudes. She nodded, wide-eyed.

“Then what about Gnolls? Are they really…giant furry people? How do you, I don’t know, talk with them?”

Wookies? Cara desperately changed subjects.

“You know, I think we can perform together. Why don’t we practice that song I taught you.”

“Really? You want me?”

Cara felt at her pocket and felt a bit worried. But only a bit. She had the spark, and she saw it in Violetta.

“My, uh, magical artifact is out of power. But I know a lot of songs. And I know some perfect parts for you.”

…8% after playing in the fields. A pit formed in Cara’s stomach, and she pushed it away. Think of what she could do without using it.

A cello could cover a lot of music. And with the drum Cara had borrowed from Landsmecht—they could at least put on a good performance. Whether it was something a [Princess] would appreciate, Cara wondered. But she had other abilities.

“Cara. Why did you want those stones?”

Violetta was peering at a sack of stones Cara had gathered. Black and white, half of each color for variety. Five to be exact. Cara smiled.

“Just to liven up the act. I’m a woman of many talents. Well…this isn’t exactly the same as the stage, but you said we could earn money performing outside the keep, right?”

“That’s right. Townsfolk have lots of money.”

Cara wondered if that was bias, especially from Idelt’s grimace that said he preferred more money than they gave him. But she was penniless so she’d take the risk. Cara sat back.

“Trust me, Violetta. I think we can earn some money. Just practice that song. Let’s go over the notes again.”

She began to hum, and Violetta copied the complex tune. Idelt smiled as Cara began to sing and beat on the drum. Oh yes, they’d impress someone. And make money as well. Cara might be out of practice with some of her talents—

But she could always wash dishes. Right?

——

The 4th Princess of Calanfer, Seraphel du Marquin was bored. She knew Lord Lantal and Lady Riesel were trying, but the truth was that their efforts were doomed.

“How long am I to be here?”

She snapped at her [Handmaiden]. Mariel and Ser Dalimont both flinched. The Thronebearer [Knight]

bowed stiffly.

“Your Highness, it is an unavoidable delay. Until your safety is assured, I cannot permit you to leave the keep or town. An escort is making from Noelictus’ capital, but it will be three more days yet.”

“Why? With a movement-Skill—”

Some [Riders] could race about, covering over a hundred miles in a day. Couriers, the messengers who bore letters and packages across the world, could outrace even magical horses on foot.