“An experiment. We seem to have a superfluity of rabbits, so the cook suggested this might be nice.” The cook had suggested this variation on a beef dish, as something suitable for just two or three people; she trusted his — her — its judgment. Quite simply, it was mushroom-and-shallot paste spread over pastry, the whole then rolled around some boned pieces of rabbit.
“Forgive me if I’m a little worried about a dish that a creature who doesn’t eat has produced as an experiment.” Sebastian poked at it with his fork, dubiously, then cut off an end and tried it. His expression went from dubious to delighted. “It’s good!” he exclaimed.
She grinned, but said nothing.
It was dark by the time they were done, and one of the servants carried a candle ahead of them to light their way — which was just one of those things that reminded her that she wasn’t in an ordinary household anymore. She was usually in her own rooms by dark, and had gotten used to seeing — or not seeing — Sapphire puttering invisibly about. Seeing a floating candlestick…
“Now, how can I possibly invite people here when they’re going to see something like that?” he exclaimed, gesturing at the candle.
“By making it into something people will want to see,” she pointed out. “Look, who were the folk you invited here in the first place?”
“Erm…mostly a few folk who came for the hunting,” he said. “I mean, the forest has been practically unhunted for years now. I probably have more game out here than any other noble within an easy ride of the city.”
“And I assume most of those few people are unlikely to be put off by invisible servants and floating candles?” she hazarded.
He thought about that as they passed through empty rooms and murder-corridors. “Probably not,” he said, finally. “They weren’t unnerved by the Manor itself, after all.”
“So, while they’re here, tell them you only have a few of these servants. Have everyone but a handful take off their armbands. And then act as if everything is perfectly normal.” She made a face that he couldn’t see in the dark, remembering what Eric had said about being ignored as if he wasn’t there. “I very much suspect that they’ll be pleased rather than otherwise. Oh, it will be unnerving at first, so perhaps what you should do is have a very few people here at first, young ones that will enjoy the novelty, or be impressed by the magic. I suspect once they get over floating objects, the situation will suit them down to the ground.”
“Huh. You could be right…”
“Then, once word gets around that you have this wizardly Manor with invisible servants, people will want to see it for the thrill. You’ll have more people angling for invitations than you know what to do with.” They arrived at the music room…and she turned to face him. “And before you ask me what to do then, it’s very simple. You tell people that you can only conjure up so many servants for a few days out of the month, and you’re very sorry, but until you’ve rested and gotten your power back, it probably wouldn’t be good to visit unless they are prepared to tend themselves and cook their own meals.”
“Oho.” He had to chuckle at that — but then he spotted the congregation of instruments at the other end of the music room, right by the fireplace. Unlike the times when the musicians played for dancing, they all had wooden stands with candles affixed to them in front of their chairs, and sheets of music paper on the stands.
Since she wasn’t encumbered by skirts, she was pleased to see that some of the straw mattresses from target practice had been arranged into a very comfortable-looking lounging-thing on the floor near the fire, and covered with a beautiful velvet coverlet. She happily curled up on it, and after a moment of hesitation, Sebastian followed suit, sitting down with a stiffly decorous distance between them. He seemed acutely aware of her legs, pointedly not looking at them. Fortunately for his composure, he had plenty to look at with the five instrumentalists right in front of them.
When she and Sebastian were settled, and the only sound was the crackling of the fire rather than the muffled rustling of the straw, they began.
Sebastian’s features relaxed, and his mouth began to curve into a smile. His head nodded slightly in time to the music, and it was obvious that he was not just pleased, but quite impressed.
Seeing that he was happy, she relaxed, and gave herself over to the music, as well. The time they’d had to practice together was obvious to her; she could tell they were much better, and played more as a unit, than they had when she had first started listening to them.
Sebastian closed his eyes and settled back after the third piece, no longer trying to maintain that stiff distance between them. She wasn’t the sort who closed her eyes to listen to music, but she did make herself marginally more comfortable and let her mind drift, not thinking of anything in particular. She didn’t recognize any of the pieces — they weren’t dance numbers, and it was clear to her, at least, that they were meant to be listened to, as opposed to danced to. Most of them were far too slow to dance to, anyway, and contained tempo changes and pauses that a dancer would find very annoying.
She had not been to very many concerts in the homes of the extremely wealthy — Genevieve was bored out of her mind by such things — and unfortunately, most of those had been marred by people incessantly gossiping and drowning out the softer passages. She would very much have liked to be able to sit up near the front with the folk who were actually there to listen to the music, but she had been stuck with Genevieve and the twins, and they were inevitably seated in the back of the room, with others like themselves, who only saw the concert as another excuse to continue whatever conversation they’d been having the last time they saw each other. This…was lovely.
Oh, there were moments even she recognized as fumbling and missed notes, even though she didn’t know the music — there always were when the Spirit Elementals played. But those were few and far between, and she was listening alongside someone whose pleasure in the melodies was so acute he practically radiated it.
Sebastian hasn’t had many moments of pleasure since the curse came on him…
She didn’t know how she knew that — except, of course, that she knew him. She could guess what his anguish had been the first time he’d awakened in the imprisoning cell and been told what had happened to him. She could imagine the number of times he really had contemplated throwing himself out of a window, and the restraint it had taken not to. She had a very good idea of the terribly lonely nights he had spent, certain that no cure for his condition would ever be found.
How terrible had it been, to see his father’s liegemen and their allies desert him even before he changed, as
