Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Imperial Palace - [3]
Creak—.
The heavy oak door swung open, and an overwhelming sense of space flooded my vision.
The Imperial Orchestra's practice room. But it felt less like a rehearsal space and more like a miniature grand cathedral or opera house.
"Wow."
An exclamation slipped out before I knew it.
The ceiling soared at least ten meters high, and the walls were finished with specially crafted wooden panels optimized for perfect acoustics.
Sunlight poured down from the lofty dome, gilding even the dust motes in the air with gold.
'Looks insanely expensive.'
In the center of the hall stood the instruments. A harp gleaming with ebony and pure gold accents.
A cello with a deep, dark red sheen. Even the timpani, dusted with some shimmering powder on its striking surface.
'How much is all that worth?'
Each one was an instrument so priceless I couldn't even begin to guess.
The air practically reeked of money just from breathing it in. And then there were the people handling them—the members of the Imperial Orchestra.
They were all dressed in matching deep navy uniforms.
Perfectly ironed to a razor's edge, with gleaming gold buttons and postures without a single flaw.
From head to toe, they radiated the aura of chosen elites.
They stopped playing all at once and turned their heads toward me.
Dozens of gazes stabbed into me like arrows.
'Ugh.'
My shoulders hunched involuntarily.
Of course, I'd been dressed in the finest tailcoat and had my hair perfectly styled, but I still felt outclassed.
'This... is tougher than I thought?'
It was like I'd become an intruder in a sacred sanctum.
"This way, please."
Anna broke the silence and stepped inside. Haruna and I followed hesitantly in her wake.
Then Anna halted and turned back to Haruna.
"Haruna-nim, please come with me."
"Pardon?"
"You're also a formally invited guest. I'll escort you to the space prepared just for you."
"Ah. Yes!"
Haruna answered like that but shot me an anxious glance.
"Aiman. I'll be right back. Behave yourself. If anything hurts, yell immediately."
What. I'm not a child.... Ridiculous. Haruna followed Anna, glancing back repeatedly.
The side door clicked shut, and Haruna and Anna vanished. The atmosphere in the practice room shifted subtly.
If it had been a hushed solemnity before... now it bubbled with barely contained curiosity.
That was the vibe.
Tap. Tap.
The members set down their instruments, all exchanging glances with one another.
And the one who stepped forward as representative was a woman with very tall stature, pink hair, and a sharp impression.
She had to be at least 190 cm, and just her approach made my body shrink back naturally.
Like facing down a schoolyard bully.
"Ahem. Ahem. Mr. Aiman? I'm Versha, the conductor."
"Yes. Nice to meet you. I'm Aiman."
I recalled noble etiquette and bowed as deeply as I could.
At my gesture, she looked momentarily at a loss for words.
"Hmm... You look even younger than I imagined."
"... ."
"Your appearance could hold its own against nobility."
Obvious flattery, plain as day. No clue what her real point was.
"Uh... and. Um. Well."
She rolled her eyes, hesitating over her words, but the members' gazes were locked on the piano.
Even Versha in front of me seemed distracted, her mind already on the piano.
"You're curious about the piano, right?"
"...!"
"I'll play something for you."
Musicians through and through, huh? Their reactions were almost comical.
For a moment like this, Canon Variations it was.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Canon Variations originate from the Greek word "Kanon," meaning rule or norm.
It's a captivating piece with its seemingly repetitive structure, offering comfort and healing to a weary daily life—a beautiful melody.
"What I'll play is... called Canon Variations."
"...What does that mean?"
Versha asked, and I pondered how to explain.
"If I had to put it in words, it's a set of variations on a round form...? Just listen for now."
"Of course."
I could feel their expectant gazes on me.
I sat at the bench, took a steadying breath, and a serene silence settled over us, like lazy afternoon sunlight on the keys.
Left hand rests on the keys.
Dum. Dum. Dum...
The familiar eight bass notes. From pinky to thumb, my left hand silently builds the foundation.
A piano has three pedals in total.
The right one connects notes and lets them ring rich and full.
The left softens and mutes the sound.
The middle controls sustain in specific registers.
I chose the right pedal. The moment I pressed it, the once-sharp notes embraced each other, spreading softly outward.
Soon, my right hand descended lightly onto the keys. Cautiously at first.
I half-closed my eyes. My fingers followed the path etched in muscle memory, crossing thumb and index.
Hundreds, thousands of times I'd played Canon Variations... I couldn't even count for this piece.
Clear melodies unfurled. With each variation, the phrasing quickened.
Gentle ripples swelled into sparkling waves. Joyful bounce infused my fingertips on the keys.
'...As expected.'
Before I knew it, I realized I was smiling.
My pedaling foot, striking hands, and swaying body filled me with delight.
'Right now, in this moment.'
No worldly noise could silence the garden that was mine alone.
Passing the climax, it returned to tranquil harmony. My racing heart brimmed with warm afterglow.
I struck the final chord and slowly lifted my hands. Releasing the pedal, the lingering echoes faded from my ears.
Yet a thrilling joy still vibrated in my fingertips.
I sat there... just like that, for a while.
.
.
.
As I took deep breaths, Versha started clapping first, and soon the rest of the orchestra joined in.
Clap. Clap clap. Clap...
I cleared my throat and waved it off modestly, as if it were nothing. Versha, with a faint smile, spoke to me.
"That was wonderful music. It soothed my heart."
Versha extended her hand. I took it.
Her palm was thick with calluses, a testament to her rigorous practice.
She gripped mine firmly and shook it vigorously.
"The rumors actually undersold you."
"Rumors?"
"The Moonlight you played at the market. One of our members captured it with a magic video orb—it was a shock. Seeing it live is even better. This piano instrument."
She was smiling, and I smiled back at her.
Versha caught her breath for a moment, then glanced around at the members.
"At some point, we hit a wall. Our technique was flawless, but something to stir the soul was missing. Caught in mannerism, you could say?"
Versha turned back to me.
"Pure sound, untouched by mana. Yet it gripped our hearts with raw appeal. Our pulses raced."
She bowed her head.
"Please take good care of us, Aiman-nim."
Truth be told, it felt... a bit burdensome.
'I'm not the sort who deserves respect.'
These people had poured their lives into reaching this stage.
The ones worthy of respect stood right before me: Versha and her orchestra. Truly.
"I don't think you see yourselves that way."
"Aiman-nim?"
"You're not grand figures or anything..."
Versha looked slightly flustered at my words.
"I'm just an ordinary person who loves music. I don't deserve respect. People like you, who clawed their way here through bone-grinding effort—that's who deserves it."
I spoke from the heart.
"I feel honored. To perform alongside the empire's finest musicians. If I'm lacking, fill those gaps for me. If I have any small inspirations, let's share them."
I glanced at the piano.
"Not as a teacher, but enjoy it together. That's all music means to me."
Versha stared blankly before breaking into her signature faint smile.
"Ha... Enjoy it. The hardest and simplest truth."
Versha handed me a sheet of music.
"Very well. Let's begin right away."
"I'm all for it."
"Everyone, to your positions! Aiman-nim's piano takes center! Balance so it doesn't get buried! Practice starts now!"