Chapter 69

Harvest Festival Practice

Once October arrived, Harvest Festival practice began almost every day—President Albert had decided it unilaterally. Princess Margaret agreed, but I hate losing my free time, and several other members seemed just as displeased. In particular, Princess Margaret’s three schoolmates complained constantly. Though she hasn’t graduated yet, I really miss President Melissa.

“Student Council President Rufus understands nothing!”

President Albert arrived unusually late and was fuming.

“What happened?”

He vented his frustrations about the Harvest Festival schedule to Princess Margaret.

“He has allocated the Music Club the same amount of time as that trivial Chorus Club. On top of that, he gave two whole hours to the Drama Club, who do nothing but shout at the top of their lungs!”

Isn’t that actually fairly fair? The Drama Club doesn’t just perform a play—they have to set up and clear the stage. And isn’t the Music Club and the Chorus Club getting the same time a sign of equality? …I didn’t say any of that, though. Everyone was so angry and making such a fuss.

If we aren’t going to practice, I’d rather go back to my room and do my side jobs. Lately I’d come up with an idea inspired by lace knitting: unravel old lace into thread and knit things like boleros. They sell well, and since the raw materials are essentially free, it’s almost pure profit.

Just as Professor Jefferson said, if you master Lifestyle Magic, you can do almost anything.

Take the grey blanket that saved me during the cold spell. Mary, thinking it wasn’t fitting for a viscount’s daughter, didn’t want me to use it. So I used Lifestyle Magic to unravel some thin silk garments and that grey blanket, then blended the silk and wool threads. Once I had a light blue silk-wool mix, I re-synthesized it into a blanket—a grey-blue, mixed-fiber throw. It isn’t as smooth as pure silk, but it’s much softer than the old blanket. Mary finally gave me permission to use it. With the leftover thread, I knitted light, warm vests for my brothers.

While I mulled that over, the “Bash the Chorus Club, Drama Club, and President Rufus Convention” raged on. The Music Club members have talent, but without someone to keep them in line, they don’t make much progress.

The main program for the Harvest Festival was an ensemble. Since I’m still practicing the lute, I was scheduled to play “Sonata for Two Hanons” with Princess Margaret.

“If the Drama Club needs time to set up the stage, then setting up instruments for an ensemble is the same. Yet President Rufus fails to understand. The Chorus Club only needs a single Hanon!”

I was exasperated by President Albert, who had circled back to the beginning of his complaint. I wondered if today’s practice was cancelled, but then Catherine raised another point.

“I have concerns about some of the current items on the program.”

She didn’t like that I was doing a duet with Princess Margaret.

“Why don’t we scrap the ensemble entirely? Setting up all those different instruments on stage takes time. We should just do Hanon and Lute, or Hanon and Flute (recorder), and so on.”

Harriet can’t play much beyond the Hanon, so she proposed something that suited her—though the idea itself wasn’t bad. It would save time on setups.

“A Music Club that doesn’t do ensembles might as well be called a Hanon Appreciation Society!”

That ensemble piece was composed by President Albert himself, and he looked offended. He’s such a child.

“Fine, then let everyone do an ensemble together!” Catherine announced, eyes on the prize. She just wanted to stop me from playing a duet with Princess Margaret.

“But Patience is still practicing the lute,” Princess Margaret pointed out. She really likes the “Sonata for Two Hanons,” after all.

“That might be the only way to do an ensemble. Patience, you’re starting special training for percussion right now.”

And there it was—a reckless demand from President Albert, who absolutely refused to give up on his ensemble piece.

“What? But isn’t Lord Rupert in charge of percussion?”

Rupert, one of the male students, was supposed to be the percussionist. Was I replacing him? Could I even do it?

“Oh, I’m in charge of three parts, so I’ll hand over the easiest percussion instrument to you. Here—you’ll be fine with this bell.”

He handed me an instrument that looked exactly like the triangle from my previous life.

“With that, as long as you don’t mess up the timing, you’ll be fine.”

President Albert made it sound simple, but if I missed the timing, wouldn’t it be a disaster?

He had originally planned to conduct while playing the Hanon for Princess Margaret, but he gave up the Hanon part.

“I want an easy instrument like Patience’s,” Harriet grumbled, but Catherine and Liliana ignored her now that the duet was cancelled.

I held the triangle and tried ringing it. President Albert came over and showed me how to hold it.

“Patience, you’re an amateur with the triangle. You mustn’t miss the timing, so hold it up higher and play while watching my conducting through the gap.”

So I have to look at President Albert’s face through a triangle. It’s actually quite heavy—when I first picked it up it seemed light, but holding it high made my arms shake. I have zero physical stamina.

Rupert taught me how to strike it.

“You have to decide the striking position yourself. I hit near the bottom center, but President Albert is very picky. If he says he wants more bass resonance, you might want to move your hand.”

Triangle, I’m sorry for making fun of you—the resonance really does change depending on where you hit it. I had a feeling I was going to get criticized… and my bad premonitions usually come true.

“Patience, hit it with a higher pitch,” he’d say, but when I struck where it produced a higher tone, he’d respond, “Use a lower pitch there.”

At least I wasn’t the only one under scrutiny. Catherine and Liliana received only minor corrections, but he kept a close eye on Harriet. Besides, this song is far too eccentric—so many key changes that it’s hard to play and harder to stay in sync. I bet everyone was complaining inwardly.

Key changes don’t matter to a triangle. But looking at President Albert’s face through a triangle is a bit… awkward.

To be honest, in my taste he lacks a little boyish charm. I think I prefer the cheeky Prince Keith, the mature-acting Ralph, or the hot-headed Hugo. That’s strictly if we’re talking about appreciating faces, of course. Obviously, my ideals are my angels—my little brothers back home.