That young woman thought her voice was something to be caged. Seraphel du Marquin could not believe it. But then—this was a song Cara knew so well she could sing from memory alone.

She had forgotten the magic. It had faded, but it was Seraphel’s favorite song. It might have been even if this were not the only music she could hear.

By the time Cara got to eight songs, the two children joined in on the chorus of the song—which was on its third encore. She stopped when Seraphel joined in.

The [Princess] blushed slightly as Culin and Sasi looked at her.

“I apologize. Was I off?”

“No—I’m sorry. I was just surprised.”

The [Princess] had a good voice. A trained voice. It was just so surprising that Cara had stopped. Culin and Sasi watched her, and everyone, once again, remembered she was a [Princess].

A wall went up and Seraphel looked disappointed. Not sad, just resigned.

The [Singer] saw it. The children didn’t, but they didn’t really see a Human being. Just a [Princess], sitting in her rich clothing, patterned like a sunburst, yellow and orange and gold, a proper dress fit for a ball amid drab Noelictus.

Ruffles and stockings and even long gloves, oh my. It made Cara’s hackles rise—until she realized that this was extensive formal wear.

Perhaps the [Princess] can’t get her washing done and she has to wear whatever she brought. Which still spoke to her wealth compared to Risel and Lantal’s plain clothing. Yet she politely sat there, well-mannered as could be. So Cara hesitated…then tossed a rope over the wall.

“Did you learn to sing from an instructor, Your Highness? You’re very good.”

Seraphel could hold a note, and someone had told her how to breathe properly. The [Princess] blinked.

“I had a [Tutor], yes. A lovely [Bard]—Calanfer has many, you understand.”

“A [Bard]. Of course. Do you play an instrument?”

The 4th Princess sighed.

“No. My parents considered a harpsichord, but few instruments are truly played by royalty. I believe His Majesty of Avel has a passing…grace…with a horn. He apparently serenades his castle at dawn from time to time.”

Again, this went completely over the heads of Culin and Sasi, who probably imagined a grand [King]

playing on the trumpet to greet the dawn. The way Seraphel said it painted a completely different image to Cara, and she would have loved to see it. She coughed into one hand and saw—Seraphel was smiling.

Very slightly, but she had been telling a joke.

Subtle. So Cara went on.

“Oh. Then—Calanfer teaches its princesses to sing. To dance, I assume? Your Highness?”