Culin and Sasi nodded. Seraphel began leading them indoors, but they soon realized that was a problem in and of itself.

Because the diners in the banquet hall could have used some music to liven their mood—if not for two dozen bodies literally passed out on the benches or floor. Some were dozing into their food, or eating because they were famished, but this was not the place.

“Upstairs?”

The keep was full to the brim with sleeping people, or others with needles, mending armor, and so on.

All four, [Princess], [Singer], and two children, peeked upstairs, saw Duchess Grishen calmly whetting a sword’s blade along a bit of stone, and decided this was not the place to sing.

Lord Lantal and Lady Risel’s bedroom was the best spot once they closed the doors to the balcony. Even then, Cara felt she would have to whisper-sing. Yet Seraphel scooted onto a chair almost as eagerly as Culin and Sasi.

“Are my songs really that entertaining, Your Highness?”

Seraphel blinked as Cara did a few vocal warmups and took a sip of rationed water. She replied slowly.

“I have never heard that particular style, Miss Sullivan. Not from Baleros or Chandrar, which have fanciful music, nor even Gnoll songs of the plains. They have many and varied musics—but not that.”

That was true, Cara supposed. Pop and the chorus of electronically-designed instruments might well be impossible. There was surely energetic music, but…she hesitated.

“Well um…I shall sing then, if it pleases the crown.”

She was only being a bit sarcastic, but she saw Seraphel’s face fall and felt guilty about it. Cara sang two songs in quick succession.

The second one was the song she’d first sung in the banquet hall. It’s Gonna Be Okay. Cara saw Seraphel sit up, close her eyes, and listen to the music. The lyrics.

Her experience was completely different from Culin and Sasi. They just loved the energy. They took in the words—but Seraphel? She listened to it. The spirit of the music.

She didn’t know it, but her voice rose. So Cara was singing louder, and her voice ran throughout the keep.

——

A [Duchess] cut her finger on the whetstone. She raised her head, glaring—but relented when she stomped out of her room and saw the [Seamstress] and her helpers smiling.

A Thronebearer of Calanfer tiredly searching for his [Princess] raised his head with sudden intuition.

And a [Lord] being helped to his rooms by his wife, arm too tired to raise, paused a second in the hallway to listen. Lord Lantal closed his eyes and Risel looked up.

“What a beautiful song. Afiele should be filled with them.”

Lantal looked at Risel, and made an impulsive promise.

“When this is over—I promise I will hire a [Singer] every day of the year.”

She just laughed and kissed him on a clean part of his face in reply.

——