Chapter 24: The Queen of Clear Instruments

After being thoroughly outplayed by Emil’s spectacular “Goro-shi Show.”

I got permission and left the banquet hall.

“Excuse me. Is my father alright?”

“Ah! You’re here. You must be Chloe, right?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you from Oliver. You must have been through a lot.”

A lot of trouble?

Ah, because of my Marine Corps-spirited father?

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m used to it!”

“I see… you’re very mature.”

For some reason, the eyes of the court orchestra members were welling up with tears.

Emil clutched my arm tightly and bit her lip.

What’s going on?

Why is everyone like this?

Is it the hair?

Is it because I have no hair?

Having become a bald person, I quickly changed the subject.

“So, how is my father?”

“He’s out cold. They say he’ll likely be sick in bed for a few days.”

“His health isn’t in danger, is it?”

“He received treatment, so you don’t need to worry.”

That’s a relief. No problem then, right?

I nodded.

“He’s a weak man.”

“?”

To think he was so frail as to faint during work.

What am I going to do with this dad?

But I kind of get it.

If I were him and married young, and my partner was my mom… ahem ahem.

No, more importantly.

‘Why is my dad in the Holy Empire in the first place?’

You’re from Pirandel.

Why are you in the Holy Empire?

You’re a court musician, you said.

Shouldn’t you be in the Pirandel palace?

Did he come for the Empress’s birthday celebration?

[No, Pirandel is a city-state, so there’s no king! Of course, there’s no palace or court musician either! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶]

What a d@mn lore-obsessed novel.

With the time spent on creating such lore, you could have made more hidden pieces for me to find.

[Isn’t it your fault for not knowing your parents’ jobs? 😊]

As expected, Clicker delivers the facts.

This ChatGPT spicy punch makes my conscience tingle.

“But what about tomorrow’s performance?”

“The piece for tomorrow is one where every single empty spot is crucial, and of all people, it had to be Oliver. This is no small matter.”

It was while I was getting my a** handed to me by Clicker in another keyboard battle today.

That I heard the sighs of the court orchestra members.

“Hmm, wouldn’t the Empress understand?”

“She might understand. But the chance for our reputation to rise would also disappear.”

Huh?

Huuh?

“Huuuuuuuuh?”

“Chloe?”

“What’s wrong?”

There’s an empty spot in the orchestra?

Because my dad fainted?

Wow, what a coincidence!

Oh my! On the way here, I was so worried about my dad that I couldn’t even think of it!

[Conscience is the morality that makes people human!]

I know, I know.

That’s why I rushed over here, so my dad’s reputation wouldn’t fall, right?

“Um… then, if you all are okay with it.”

I cleared my throat and said.

“Could I fill in for my father?”

“What?”

“I can play the violin as well as anyone.”

Though in my past life, I played the piano and guitar.

But Luntraval didn’t have either.

There were similar instruments, but they were either poorly regarded or too expensive for a household to buy.

So, there was an instrument I had newly learned.

“…Chloe, you? The violin?”

“Yes! I’ve learned to play in an ensemble, and I’ve even tuned with my father!”

The violin.

An instrument that, by coincidence, also existed in this world.

It’s an unexpected turn of events, but an opportunity I can’t miss.

This is my chance.

A chance to leave a deep impression on my seniors!

‘And…’

I glanced at Emil.

At the face of my friend, who was quieter than usual, as if she knew she had done wrong.

‘I want to play for her too.’

How serious I am about music.

How much I love to sing.

It was then.

The older female musician, who had been lost in thought, said casually.

“…You know, Chloe. I understand how you feel, but.”

“Wait a moment! I know you’re displeased, but I’m not just all talk!”

I shouted, almost losing my voice.

With the sole intention of persuading my father’s colleagues.

“I’m really confident! If you want, I can play right now-“

“No, that’s okay.”

As I was passionately speaking, she grabbed my shoulder.

The older female musician said with utmost seriousness.

“Go get a wig. Cover your head first.”

“Ah.”

Right.

They don’t have any aversion to child labor here.

“But where am I supposed to find a wig that fits me?”

In the hallway, after visiting my dad.

I was faced with a challenge on the level of the Fields Medal.

Farming a child-sized wig in half a day in the Middle Ages!

“What kind of high-difficulty quest is this? The pressure is incomparable to when I was competing with so-and-so.”

“I’m getting angry.”

First of all, Luntraval does have wigs.

Even the Guild Leader was frantically looking for one since morning.

‘But he couldn’t find one, right?’

To be precise, there were no child-sized wigs.

Look at my dad’s colleagues.

They’re not even worried about the instrument, they’re looking for a wig first.

Finding a wig that fits an 8-year-old’s body.

This is proof that it’s vastly more difficult than ‘finding a violin that fits an 8-year-old’s body’.

‘Not easy.’

It’s really not easy.

Come to think of it, it would probably be difficult even on Earth.

When in your life would you ever need to put a wig on a child?

Even a child model for clothing wouldn’t wear a wig.

“You can just have one custom-made.”

“Your way of thinking is still bourgeois. But when would we have time to make a new one?”

“Find a professional. It’s faster with magic.”

“What? There’s magic for making wigs?”

What kind of idle mage would create something like that?

Where on earth is there such a demand for wig magic?

[Wigs are mainly in demand by bald people!]

Ah.

Stop.

Don’t say anything more.

So it wasn’t a product of leisure, but of desperation.

The fact that wig magic exists makes it even sadder, as it shows that even mages can’t create a hair growth potion.

‘Anyway, I just need to find a bald mage, right?’

Hmm.

I rubbed my chin.

A well-coiffed person with a shaved head orders a wig from someone who has suffered from hair health issues and even learned magic for it?

And asks for it to be completed by tomorrow because they’re in a hurry?

“…Is this really a change in difficulty?”

[Not easy 😜]

One mountain after another.

The person who helped me escape this predicament was an unexpected one.

“Sob…! Chloe, you’ve been through so much. You did well…!”

Why is grandpa coming out from there?

Or maybe not.

I should have expected it, since Emil is here.

“Um… Your Excellency Yaltarion? Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing, my child…. Oh, it seems to be raining….”

Yaltarion lifted his face high and wiped away his tears.

It seems it rains indoors in Luntraval.

If you’re an Archmage, I guess that’s possible.

But what on earth are you so moved by?

That I was stopped from becoming a runaway musician?

That your granddaughter’s super save pinned me to the art world?

“The rain is stopping. You said you were looking for a wig? I’ll put out a call to the mages I know.”

“…Yes. Please do.”

It seems pointless to keep asking.

For a great artist of an age overflowing with female hormones, it’s not that strange.

You know, that thing.

The atmosphere where women’s empathy explodes and they cry.

I rummaged through the Guild Leader’s luggage.

Because the Guild Leader, who seemed to have a lot of money, had managed to procure a wig.

“You had a wig.”

Emil immediately approached and frowned.

It was understandable.

“The quality is not good. And the size doesn’t fit.”

“He got it in a hurry, so there was no choice. This is for adults.”

Pouting, I chided Emil.

“Do you know how much hair it takes to make one wig? They usually gather hair from several people and dye it.”

“You know a lot.”

“Yeah. I looked into it everywhere. After I shaved my head.”

For some reason, Emil’s breath caught.

Yaltarion’s breath also caught.

“Good quality ones are undyed virgin hair, but to get the required amount from one person, you need really long hair.”

“……I see.”

“Yeah. But what woman would want to cut the hair she’s grown with such care? It makes sense that good quality wigs are rare.”

“…………I see.”

Do you know how hard it is to maintain long hair?

If it weren’t for my mom, I wouldn’t have grown it out either.

Ah, the hair I cut off when I shaved my head?

I chopped it up into small pieces and threw it away long ago.

What if there’s some kind of fantasy-glue that I could spread on my scalp and stick it back on?

“…I understand. Wait a moment.”

“Huh?”

Wait?

For what?

Emil suddenly lifted the side of her dress.

A dagger was strapped to her thigh, which was so thin I wanted to feed her.

And with practiced movements, she drew the blade.

There was no time to ask why there was a knife there.

Because Emil, with the dagger in her mouth, tied up her hair and brought the blade to the roots of her own hair.

And.

• Snip!

The sharp blade flashed as if enchanted.

The long orange hair scattered.

Emil, who had cut her hair in the blink of an eye, held out the freshly cut hair to me.

“I’ll give it to you.”

“………………”

Um.

Well.

There are many things I want to say, but first.

“Let’s put down the knife first and talk.”

Don’t tell me you had that on you when you had an audience with the Empress?

Who were you planning to stab, hiding a weapon like that?

“You’re thinking of letting Oliver’s daughter be his stand-in?”

“Yes. She volunteered herself.”

It was after Oliver’s colleague relayed his conversation with Chloe to the music director.

That the music director, Lindaril, clapped her hands in admiration.

“That’s great! It was her fault Oliver fainted, so we can dock her pay, right? As expected of Nicola! I knew I could count on you!”

“?”

“?”

“Wow, you f*cking… Nicola, you b@stard…?”

“Aaargh, no!”

Whether the subordinate, who had suddenly become an honorary pointy-ear, was getting the evil eye from his colleagues or not.

Lindaril packed her instrument with a pleased look on her face.

“Music Director?”

“I’m just going to go listen to her play for a bit.”

“Ah, an interview. Do you really think Oliver’s daughter has the skill to replace him?”

“Wouldn’t it be fine? What’s the big deal if her skills are a little lacking?”

“Pardon?”

“Huh?”

Lindaril blinked as if something was strange.

“I hear the Empress looks favorably upon her.”

“I suppose so?”

“Then even if her playing is a bit poor, we can just treat it like a children’s concours. A birthday celebration performance is half about the sentiment anyway.”

“Ah.”

The musician was impressed.

The vibe coming from Lindaril’s experience was different.

“Even if it’s no good, if she just duets with me, it should be at least average. That would be better received than a hastily arranged ensemble piece.”

“Right, right.”

It was a good improvisation.

As expected, even if you call them pointy-ears, an elf is an elf.

She might lack a bit of creativity, empathy, conscience, and consideration, but there was no doubt she was an excellent superior-

“And if she’s a kid the Empress favors, I’ll get scolded less even if she messes up the performance!”

“?”

This elf’s personality?

Or not?

It seems somewhat reasonable…?

“No, Music Director. No matter how urgent it is, that’s not right.”

Perhaps because the words were too blunt.

Naturally, there was opposition from among the performers.

Especially Titus, a musician who competed with Oliver, turned pale as if having a seizure.

“Noah’s daughter… no, I mean, Oliver’s daughter probably has some skill. And she’s 8 years old.”

“Titus. As I always say, first loves are usually meant to fail and be forgotten.”

“That’s none of your business! Anyway, I think it’s right to decide after seeing her skills.”

What he said was right.

Lindaril (because she was annoyed) waved her hand.

“Then you come too.”

“Pardon?”

“Let’s go listen together. To see if Oliver’s daughter has the skills she boasts of.”

And so, Lindaril dashed through the city by carriage.

And arrived at the luxurious inn where Chloe was staying.

“Wow, she’s staying in a fancy place.”

Is Oliver’s family rich?

I should borrow some money from him next time.

Lindaril entered the inn, humming.

Normally, outsiders could only enter if a guest came out to meet them.

But Lindaril was the court music director.

Apart from the money she earned, her fame and honor were high.

Getting through the entrance with just her face was no problem at all.

However.

It was when she stepped into the hallway.

“…Huh?”

Faintly.

The rhythm of a string instrument echoing very faintly in the hallway.

The musicians froze on the spot like stones.

Because they felt the texture of the air change against their skin.

There’s no doubt.

It’s almost inaudible, but someone is playing.

That in itself is not a big problem.

The auspicious Empress’s birth festival.

The guests might be enjoying some music as well.

What’s strange is not the performance.

It’s the music.

Its bizarrely sophisticated musical perfection.

Listening to the tone, Lindaril suddenly realized.

“Don’t tell me this is a violin?”

The violin.

In the 21st century, the lady of the orchestra, praised as the queen of instruments.

But in Luntraval, it’s different.

The violin on this continent is still a new and unfamiliar instrument.

A young girl who doesn’t even have a single decent solo piece.

Their astonishment stemmed from there.

‘The violin can produce such a rich range of sounds?’

The violin is not an instrument that can be played like this alone.

Any musician in the world would answer so.

“Honey, let’s go out for a bit.”

“Should we? I was a bit curious too.”

From some rooms, even guests peeked their heads out.

All with expressions as if enchanted by this performance.

Titus looked around in confusion.

“I’ve never heard this piece before. Who is it? Did Fleurden send a court orchestra too?”

“No.”

“Pardon?”

“I said no. I know. I think I know.”

Lindaril murmured.

At some point, having even forgotten to breathe.

“This score… is not something that an ordinary orchestra like ours could create.”

The intuition of the elf who had dedicated her life to music was correct.

This piece was a score meant only for the violin.

In the early days of the piano’s birth.

A piece composed for the queen by a genius who criticized the piano, which would later be called the king of instruments, and never dedicated a single piece to it.

The solo piece of the queen who left the emperor.

Composed by Johann S. Bach.

Unaccompanied Violin Sonata No. 1.

Fuga.

“My goodness….”

At the resonating melody, Lindaril’s heart trembled.

As much as when she first held an instrument.

No, perhaps even more.