And the little standing drum changed. It turned from the carved, wooden upright drum with the stretched animal hide into…something else.

A different kind of drum. Rounded, sitting in front of Cara. And—instead of playing on it, she was tapping on some kind of foot-pedal which swung a little mallet into the drum.

Seraphel du Marquin sat up as a fast beat began to echo throughout the hall. Lord Lantal blinked. Risel leaned forwards as Grishen grunted in surprise.

Violetta put her bow to the strings of her cello and began to play. Faster, brighter than any other tune Idelt had heard in a long time. The music came from her and Cara’s illusory drum. And then—something else.

A piano’s keys. Cara was sweating as she played on the drum and called each note from the spell. But she knew this song. It was not for Seraphel. It was for Culin. For Sasi.

For Afiele and Violetta and the death of dark, miserable days. She opened her mouth and began to sing.

The heads across the hall rose as Cara closed her eyes. Every eye fixed on her. The words said one thing—but it wasn’t a sad song. And then—Violetta took a shuddering breath, and she began singing.

It’s Gonna Be Okay by The Piano Guys. You could duet it, after all.

Idelt stared at his daughter as her voice wobbled. But this song. This song! Cara opened her eyes and saw Violetta staring back, terrified but also elated. This song was meant for a cello and piano. And it was meant for more than one voice. Violetta’s voice wobbled as she sang.

Cara and Violetta sang together.

——

Princess Seraphel sat there as the song took over the entire room. The silence, almost like quietus, the reserve—it broke into pieces. Duchess Grishen was glaring, and some of the other guests looked shocked.

But Culin and Sasi were laughing, banging on the table along to the music. Their parents stared at Violetta, who was making her cello sing in a way they hadn’t imagined the instrument could be played.

And the words—Cara O’Sullivan glanced at the [Princess]. And when she was singing—her glare was gone. The next words struck Seraphel in her heart.

The [Princess] felt weak. She sat back, listening with every fiber of her being; too weak to move at the same time. She felt struck. But not in a bad way.

The two played. A duo. Cara and Violetta. One with a drum and music from her world. The other a cello.

Copying a song Cara knew and loved enough to replicate.

Incidentally, Sir Cliff Richard had featured in this song, which had been made by a duo of musicians who played with piano and cello and had become famous. It was perfect for Violetta.