Episode 18
“Miss Amber, try singing.”
Right after exchanging brief greetings with Rowen, Lady Delia suddenly spoke.
“Here? You mean right here?”
“Yes. We don’t have time, so go on.”
When I asked back in confusion, Lady Delia pulled a pocket watch from the jacket draped over her dress and checked the time as she urged me.
I glanced around for a moment. The stage was noisy, still deep in the middle of construction.
Around me stood the theater owner, the director, the resident composer, and the former prima donna—all looking down at me.
Instinctively, I wet my dry lips. When I hesitated to open my mouth, Gilbert quietly murmured beside me.
“Lady Delia is a busy woman. If you’re not prepared, don’t waste her time. Just say so.”
I lifted my half-bowed head.
His face staring back at me was expressionless and unreadable. He might have meant only what he said, but to my ears, it sounded a little different.
I *had* to be prepared.
“I’ll… I’ll do it.”
I took a deep breath.
I had to sing *something*. The hymn I used at the audition, or any of the many songs I practiced with Miya.
Then, suddenly, a melody drifted into my mind—Lunia’s aria, the one I had repeated endlessly since last night.
A joyous song celebrating the return of a lover.
It had stayed on my tongue all night. I’d never actually sung it out loud, but I’d shaped the sound silently, imitating her breath support in my imagination.
Thin and long. But without losing strength. Without losing nobility. Beautifully.
I remembered the first note of the aria clearly. Just like Lunia yesterday, I slowly opened both arms and parted my lips.
All the embarrassment and pressure of singing unexpectedly in front of so many people vanished.
I had only one belief left—that I could sing like Lunia.
So I squeezed my eyes shut and began singing.
At some point, the constant noise from the stage faded until I could no longer hear it.
But when I cracked my eyes open and lifted my head toward the chandelier, I met the gaze of a worker on the ceiling rig.
The hall was completely still except for me. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch.
With the background noise gone, my voice echoed even more clearly through the space. Only then did I feel as if I *were* Lunia, and relief made me smile.
*Thank goodness.*
Lunia, the one I heard yesterday, could sustain high notes effortlessly, her long breath and stable pitch letting the climax soar in grand waves.
But I didn’t have enough breath to do it the exact same way, and my high notes weren’t stable either. Realizing this just in time, I took a deep breath.
*Miya once told me: “Your voice is very clear and pure. That’s why complicated techniques might not suit you like they do other sopranos. But you can’t avoid singing like a classical vocalist either, so… what a dilemma.”*
Miya and I had knocked our heads together, searching for a way I could leave an impression in the high register.
The method worked *because* it was classical singing: maximize resonance.
*“Stretch the sound out, then hold the last part thin and long. But don’t focus too much on forcing the sound—let it resonate through the space.”*
That was something Henry always emphasized to me.
Both of them knew what made my voice sound best. And I knew it too—better than anyone, having heard my own singing more than anyone else.
The highest note of Lunia’s aria extended without a quiver. As my own voice started to ring in my ears, I let the final tone tremble slightly.
Before I ran out of breath, I slid smoothly down the scale and settled on the last note.
I closed my mouth, my face flushed.
My heart raced. I exhaled slowly through my nose and brought my hands together in front of me. Lady Delia was staring straight at me.
Looking around, I saw Nick smiling in a strange expression and Rowen staring wide-eyed. And Gilbert… looked almost the same as before I started singing.
None of their expressions were easy to read, and I felt myself tense.
“Certainly.”
Breaking the silence, Lady Delia spoke.
“You really are a unique type. Just like at the audition. Now I understand what Sir Gilbert meant.”
Her words were neither praise nor criticism. I carefully met her eyes. She lifted one corner of her lips in a smile.
“But it’s a relief you can sing an aria. How long have you practiced it?”
“Ah, um… it’s been about a day, I think.”
I answered hesitantly, unsure if that would leave a good impression.
She narrowed her eyes.
“‘You think?’ ”
“Well, I only heard the song yesterday, and I practiced it in my head all day… This is the first time I’ve sung it aloud.”
I added quickly, almost defensively. I wanted to explain better, but there was nothing more to say beyond the truth.
“So, Miss Amber sang a song you heard for the first time yesterday… in front of me?”
“…Yes.”
She fell silent again. That moment of quiet felt eternal, and I tightened my clasped hands.
Just as I dropped my head, her voice came again.
“What do you mean you practiced it ‘in your head’?”
“Pardon? Ah, that’s…”
“No, we’ll discuss that in the rehearsal room. Later.”
When I opened my mouth to explain, she raised a graceful hand, stopping me. Then she spoke to Nick.
“Nick, if the carriage arrives at the front of the theater, tell them to wait. About an hour.”
“Yes, Lady Delia.”
After Nick nodded, she looked back at me. Thankfully, her expression was as gentle as when I first saw her.
“Since I’ve heard you sing, here’s a quick evaluation: knowing what techniques you *can’t* execute and giving up early—that’s good judgment.”
She knew exactly what I had done.
When I lowered my head in embarrassment, she continued:
“That was a compliment. Raise your head. You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you?”
“N-no, ma’am.”
“I’ve heard *Lunia*’s aria so many times it’s sickening, but this is the first time I’ve heard it sung like *that*. Still, it wasn’t a bad choice. It sounded pleasant enough.”
“Thank you.”
Finally, I relaxed a bit and smiled. She immediately adopted a stern expression.
“But singing that way because you *can’t* do it the proper way is different from singing that way even though you *can*. You chose that method to avoid ruining the song. If you’d known how to sing it correctly, you wouldn’t have needed to worry at all.”
I nodded quickly. She was right about everything.
“Still, since I asked you to sing, I should teach you something in return. It’s too noisy here—let’s move. Follow me.”
With that, Lady Delia turned and walked toward the exit.
Her stride was the perfect gait of a noblewoman.
Compared to her, the steps I clumsily imitated yesterday were nothing.
“What are you doing? Go.”
I was staring at her as she walked away when Gilbert lightly pushed my back. I stumbled forward a few steps and looked back.
He stood at an angle, one hand in his pocket, gesturing for me to go with the other.
I realized then that I had truly seized an opportunity.
I felt my already-heated cheeks grow even hotter. Without meaning to, I smiled back at the two people behind him who were gently laughing.
Then I hurried after Lady Delia, who was already far ahead.
—
“And then?”
Miya, her eyes half-closed, tilted her head as she urged me on. I laughed softly and brushed aside the hair falling over her face.
“So then, Lady Delia gave me about an hour of lessons.”
“That’s great.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Lady Delia’s lesson had been wonderful—and extraordinary.
She started by asking in detail how I’d been practicing until now.
When I told her that after hearing the song once, I held it fully in my head and repeated it mentally to follow it, she asked:
*‘Memorizing is one thing, but how were you so sure you could *imitate* it?’*
I had answered with an awkward, troubled face:
*‘…I just did it.’*
I wanted to explain better, but there was no other way to put it. Thankfully, she nodded.
*‘Then why didn’t you imitate everything earlier?’*
*‘Because I knew I couldn’t do it.’*
*‘So you can’t do everything exactly as you imagine.’*
*‘That’s right.’*
After answering, I realized my words contradicted themselves. But she didn’t seem bothered.
*‘Then first, we should find out how much you *can* imitate.’*
She chose one of the many rehearsal rooms in the theater and sat right down on the piano bench.
*‘Listen to what I do and copy it exactly.’*
She started playing immediately. And sang.
Even seated, Lady Delia produced an incredible volume.
Compared to other singers, her fuller figure gave her voice a different resonance—far more overwhelming than the Caroline Dees I remembered.
She sang for quite a while. But I couldn’t easily imitate her tone, which was completely unlike mine.
Fortunately, she showed no disappointment and calmly corrected me bit by bit.
*‘Miss Amber, your method is definitely unusual.’*
Near the end of the practice, she continued:
*‘You’ve spent so long imitating others that you haven’t found the sound that suits you yet. You can’t read sheet music properly, can you?’*
I closed my mouth and nodded—she had struck home.
*‘Prepare before you hit a wall. There will come a moment when the voices of others become distracting as you search for your own.’*
She checked her watch gracefully, then stood.
*‘Rowen has plenty of sheet music in his room. If you ask, he’ll help you—but don’t bother him too much.’*
As she left the rehearsal room, she threw me one last charming smile.
*‘I’ll be busy and unable to come to the theater for about two weeks. I’ll look forward to seeing how much you’ve improved by then, Miss Amber.’*
Her words meant I should make meaningful progress within two weeks. I bowed deeply to her retreating back.
When I finished telling the story, Miya was slumped over the table, half-asleep. Her eyes were full of drowsiness, and the once-rowdy tavern had grown quiet without us noticing.
Looking around, half the people were already asleep from exhaustion, and the rest were mumbling drunkenly among themselves.
“Miya, let’s go home.”
I helped her to her feet and turned to the owner, who was cleaning the bar counter.
“Thank you for today, sir.”
He waved lazily, smiling drunkenly.
“Amber, listen. When you get famous, you better not pretend you don’t know us, okay? And if you ever get interviewed, make sure you advertise our place. Got it? Hm?”
“I will.”
It might be a distant future, but since he looked so happy, I promised easily.
Supporting the fully leaning, wobbling Miya, I slowly made my way toward her house.
