Then the invisible musicians began to play.
She hadn’t been sure what to expect when Verte had said the Spirits were musicians. She wasn’t sure what kind of music that they would play, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure whether or not they would actually be any good. She had a good ear for music and she knew it, and she was afraid that they might be terrible. After all, just because you were a magical being it didn’t follow that you were any good at the sorts of things that humans did. For that matter, just because you were a human being, it didn’t follow that you were any good at being a musician!
But they were good. Not brilliant, but quite good. Just as good as any of the musicians at the Wool Guild ball.
They played a mix of the sorts of pieces that she would have expected to listen to at a concert, and dance music. And eventually, as her toes began tapping her evil mood got charmed right out of her.
“It’s too bad we can’t dance,” she said to Sapphire, wistfully.
The musicians paused. She got the feeling that they were talking among each other, even if she couldn’t hear it.
Sapphire began writing again. “Wait,” she said.
Just as she was beginning to get impatient, a parade of…laundry…came wafting in.
That was her initial confused impression, anyway. Eight shirts and sleeved tunics, seven skirts or petticoats and bodices. As they lined up, she suddenly realized what this was — these were her dance partners, enough for two “sets” of four dancers!
She picked a floating tunic as her partner at random, and the musicians struck up a Running Set, as if they somehow knew this was her very favorite sort of dance.
She quickly got used to grasping invisible hands at the ends of sleeves; she wished she could see the faces — if they had any — of her fellow dancers, in order to know whether or not they were enjoying themselves, but they did seem to be. They were certainly enthusiastic.
And tireless! As the light coming in the windows began to darken, she finally called a halt to the fun. She was actually starting to get a stitch in her side, and was a little winded. But the sore muscles she’d had when she’d awakened were quite worked out now!
“Thank you!” she said, and applauded them all, making a little curtsy toward her partners, and a larger one to the musicians. “Thank you so very much! This was glorious! Can we do this again?”
Sapphire scratched on her slate. “Evry day.”
She laughed with glee. “Then — about this time? For about two hours before supper?”
“Yes.”
“And did all of you enjoy yourselves?” she persisted. Because she wasn’t going to make this a daily exercise, no matter how much pleasure she got out of it, if they hadn’t had fun, too. After her tirade at Sebastian, she was suddenly aware that if her lot was onerous, how much more was theirs? Hard enough to be a servant, but to be a servant who was treated as blockheadedly stupid, and requiring no consideration at all? Poor things…and she was not going to inflict something on them that they really didn’t want to do.
But Sapphire’s enthusiastic “YES!” set her fears to rest.
“Wonderful!” She beamed at them. “Thank you so very much, again! If something comes up and I am going to be involved in something else, I will be sure to have Sapphire let you know.”
The clothing and instruments gave her a little bow, and sailed out the farther door again. She and Sapphire took the nearer one back to her rooms, where Sapphire did her best with hair that had turned into a tumble of waves with a mind of its own.
When she came in to supper, she was a bit surprised to find that she was there first this time. While she wondered if she should wait for Sebastian, the Duke came in, and looked at her hopefully.
“It’s all right, I won’t bite you,” she said, with just a touch of sarcasm. “I’m back in temper again.”
“I heard the music and followed it to the Mirror Hall, but you were so engrossed that I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said, a bit wistfully. “I didn’t know they could do any of that — the music and the dancing. You’ve found out more of what they can do in a few days than I have in years.”
“You never asked them,” she reminded him, applying herself to her soup.