Guests from the Great Temples
Guests from a major temple. That was the only thought that popped into my head when I heard the news. Why? No, really, why?
Our family didn't have bad relations with any temples. Quite the opposite, in fact. The Clover Count family had never clashed with any of them and even made regular donations to a few. But we weren't exactly bosom buddies with them either. We were right at the average level for a noble house, I'd say. So when they suddenly announced high priests coming to the wedding, I couldn't help but wonder.
"From a major temple?"
In the end, I couldn't hold back and asked. Father nodded as if he understood my confusion.
"It seems your situation has influenced this, Arden."
"Uh...."
So, it was because of the revelation from Goddess Armonia again? I could understand the Armonia Temple sending someone, but why would the other temples take interest?
"It's the Grand Festival this year, after all. The time when artists get the most attention."
"Ah! Of course."
That cleared up my doubts. Right, the Grand Festival. I knew it was happening this year. How could I not? It was the festival everyone in the Empire looked forward to. I'd just forgotten amid all the recent chaos.
"They're probably trying to get a foot in the door early."
"It's a bit overwhelming."
I gave an awkward smile. The Grand Festival was, simply put, the Empire's biggest event, held every four years. And it was deeply tied to the temples, since the festival itself had originated from their gatherings.
"Haha. Can't blame them. Plenty of people will want to exchange at least a word with you. During the Grand Festival, the temples compete to show reverence to their gods."
The reason artists' value skyrocketed during the festival was straightforward. Throughout the event, temples vied with each other to offer songs, plays, poems, and the like to their deities as tributes of respect and gratitude. In the old days, priests simply offered humble homemade tunes or verses. But as the scale grew, they started commissioning artists directly or sponsoring them year-round.
"Thanks to that, it's the one time artists in the Empire get treated like nobility."
"True enough."
These days, some even received treatment on par with nobles. Anyway.
"I've kept you too long. We'll be expecting great things."
Father finished what he had to say, patted my shoulder with a smile, and stood. I promised him I'd do my best, waited for him to rise, then followed him out of the room.
"Whew."
As soon as I stepped out, I let out a short breath.
Twice as many guests, and high priests to boot...
Things had gotten bigger than I'd imagined. For the record, the guest list was never small to begin with. Being who we were, plenty of influential families were invited. In other words, an already grand wedding was about to get even grander. It was really overwhelming.
"Still gotta do it."
But regardless of the pressure, I hadn't lost my confidence. The modifications were already complete to my satisfaction, and Monica and I had been practicing nonstop every day. There were still rough spots, but with over a week left, we could polish it to a satisfying level.
"Alright. Time to practice."
I steeled my legs and headed to the basement, vowing to deliver a perfect performance.
The estate was far livelier and noisier than usual. The front gates, normally shut tight, stood wide open, with carriages streaming in nonstop. Some were ordinary horse-drawn ones, but there were plenty of mana-powered automobiles too. Even among nobles, only the seriously wealthy drove those. And there were at least ten of them.
"Whoa."
I stood by the window, taking it all in. Seeing that really drove home how much pull our family had. Otherwise, no wedding would draw this big a crowd. That said, it was odd that some of those guests were there for me, not the family.
Just a few weeks ago, I was seen as one promising musician among many. Sure, with my past-life memories, I'd heard "gifted" since childhood, but in an Empire of nearly a billion, talent wasn't rare. Now? Exaggerating a bit, maybe a third of the capital knew my name.
"Whew."
Thinking about it piled on the pressure again, but I shook my head to clear it. This wasn't the time to buckle.
"Hurry up already!"
I snapped out of it at the voice from ahead and looked up. There was Monica, peeking through the open door in far flashier attire than usual. She normally skipped skirts for riding pants out of laziness, but now she was in a flowing dress.
"Coming, coming."
Not that I was any different. As the second son of the Clover Count, I couldn't show up to my brother's wedding in casual wear. I was in a high-end suit-like formal outfit.
I slipped through the door Monica held open, revealing a fairly ornate room. It connected directly to the wedding building—one door away from the stage. Lesser families rented venues, but we had our own banquet hall attached. Money really was the best.
"Suuup, whoo."
That's when I heard deep breathing from beside me. Monica sat in a chair, doing breathing exercises. I asked her,
"Nervous?"
"Yeah. A little."
An unexpected answer. I'd figured she'd bluff it off with her usual bravado. She met my eyes, reading my thoughts.
"What? Thought I'd say no?"
"Yeah. Something like, 'Me? Nervous?'"
Monica shook her head at my words.
"Why lie when it's obvious? Of course I'm nervous. First time performing for a crowd this big."
"Really? You've played in halls before."
"That was under a hundred people. Half judges, the rest musicians' families."
She snorted.
"All music folks, anyway."
"Fair."
"What about you?"
Without hesitation, I answered her question.
"Obviously nervous."
It'd be weirder not to be. Even at a stranger's wedding, I'd be tense. This was my one and only brother's—the family heir's—wedding.
Monica nodded at my reply, then added,
"But I'm kinda excited too."
"Excited?"
"Yeah. Your composition. Wondering how people'll react."
Her eyes sparkled.
"It's... just so beautiful. Gives me chills every time I play it."
I smiled awkwardly. No wonder. It was that piece, after all. How could it not amaze? Not that I'd composed it!
We chatted like that, waiting for the moment. How much time passed? Knock knock.
Someone rapped on the door. Monica and I stood in unison.
"The wedding will begin shortly."
As expected, a servant announcing the start. We left the room and followed the corridor. Soon, we reached another door at the end. The servant opened it cautiously.
—Now, then...
A loud voice boomed from beyond. The ceremony had just begun. And our performance was first up. Our turn.
—Next, a musical prelude for the main ceremony.
Ah, now. I exchanged a glance with Monica and stepped through. A grand, opulent hall filled my view. The pinnacle of splendor. A slightly raised stage sat to one side, orchestra and massive carillon in place.
Monica took her spot at the carillon; I stood beside her, violin in hand. All under the gaze of the crowd filling the hall.
Tension flooded my chest, but instead of deep breaths, I gripped the violin tight.
"Good day. I'm Arden Clover."
Before starting, Monica and I gave a light greeting, then I spoke clearly, meeting their eyes.
"The piece we'll perform is
Salut d'Amour. And now, we begin."
The prepared piece was Salut d'Amour—Edward Elgar's "Love's Greeting."