A Pearl in the Mud
There was a pearl buried in the mud. ***
"You can't sing. Your face is the only decent thing about you."
To take back those careless words he'd thrown at Estel, he'd spent days tirelessly making amends. Throughout the entire party, he trailed after her, catering to her every whim and pouring out apologies. He coaxed and cajoled.
"Forgive me!"
"I do... but seeing you just makes me depressed for no reason, Seru. I'm scared you'll say something harsh again."
The next day, "I'm sorry!"
"Once I hear something, I can't forget it. It makes me so sad."
And the day after that, "I was wrong to think that!"
"If only I could erase the memory. My head's too good at memorizing lyrics, of all things..."
Whenever the party rolled around, the other members would smirk and whisper as they watched him doggedly following Estel.
"He's at it again."
"Must've done something big."
"What'd he even do..."
"Kekeke, Estel! Forgive him, whatever it is!"
"I already have! But my heart still hurts..."
And finally, on the long-awaited seventh day, Estel's expression brightened.
"Time heals it, I guess."
"Thank you!"
"You really mean it? That you'll make me the greatest bard?"
"Of course. Leave it to me."
"Then... I'll trust you. I have a feeling it'll work out if you help me."
"I'll draw out every bit of talent you have."
Estel's eyes sparkled at his words.
"I can't wait."
"From now on, call me Seru, not Seru-nim."
"Casual speech?"
"Let's keep it comfortable. That's how you'll learn faster."
"Nope, no way."
"Huh?"
"I'll switch when I feel like it."
Estel grinned at him.
"But I'll call you Seru. That's okay, right?"
"Yeah, whatever. Do what you want."
With that, their relationship was back to normal. Now it was time to reveal his sly true intentions.
"After the party today, wanna practice at your place?"
"Huh? Suddenly? At my house?"
Estel widened her eyes and leaned back, her gaze screaming, Gotcha, you perv.
"Ah! A lecherous hubby! What wicked plans do you have for my house?"
"Practice, like I said. I gotta teach you."
"Oh my, I knew it~ A lecherous hubby's intentions are so obvious~"
[Time to meet your rich parents and introduce myself. Right? I'm broke right now. I wanna mooch off a nice house with hot water.]
"Planning to invade a maiden's private room, were you?!"
"No, absolutely not. I'm squeezing out time I don't have to teach you."
In the end, he somehow wrangled Estel's permission—and finally! The next day, he headed to her house.
As dusk fell, they walked side by side after the party. A fancy mansion would appear any moment now, he thought, full of anticipation as they followed the road... but something felt off. The streets were getting... shabbier.
This was weird.
"This... the way to your house, right?"
"Yeah. Scared?"
Estel tilted her head with a mischievous grin.
"N-no... just, last time, I swear a butler or someone came in a carriage to pick you up?"
"Ah~ That guy?"
Estel snickered.
"Told him I had plans with a friend today, so no need."
She glanced at him slyly and pointed.
"We're hanging out, remember?"
"Because of me? We could've ridden together—would've been easier."
"That'd be rude."
"Rude? Ah... I guess?"
It didn't quite make sense, but he didn't press and just nodded.
They walked for over thirty minutes. And when they finally reached Estel's house—his jaw dropped.
"...Th-this is your house?"
"Yep, my cozy little nest."
Estel beamed proudly and pointed at the sign.
[Traveler's Inn]
...It was obviously an inn.
"This is just an inn?"
"Of course. It's an inn."
"...What?"
His brain lagged a beat.
What did she just say? An inn? Then where was the house? The luxurious parents? The grand mansion? The money?!
His inflated expectations crumbled miserably.
He hastily asked for the details, and the reality was this:
Estel was a poor girl living at an inn. There was no trace of the noble lady he'd imagined.
The fancy carriage from before actually belonged to the mansion where she worked nights as a maid. After parties, she'd head straight there, and the lady of the house liked her enough to send the butler to pick her up.
...Had he been this stupid?
[Goddammit...]
It had all been the product of his imagination. His head spun, and a sigh escaped him.
[No wonder I keep getting backstabbed.]
Pathetic, really. He'd assumed she was from a wealthy family, dreamed of mooching off a house with hot water... and now greed had bitten him again.
"Not coming in?"
As he wallowed in regret, Estel's clear voice rang out.
...Stupidly, he'd made a promise with her.
[I'll raise you with everything I've got.]
He'd sworn never to train a bard again. He'd only restarted out of a selfish desire for an easy life...
[Stuck with another poor kid.]
Damn it. He trudged back and forth, then leaned against the inn wall and let out a deep sigh. More sighs followed.
Estel watched him innocently from in front.
"Suddenly nervous about entering a girl's room alone? Hahaha! Don't worry, I won't bite!"
That's not it, girl... Self-recrimination churned inside as he stood there. Under the darkening sky, thoughts of what lay ahead surfaced.
[Well, since it's come to this...]
Let's start over.
He looked slowly at Estel. Not a bad partner to team up with. Pretty face, decent voice. With some polish, she could be something special.
But he'd have to work his ass off.
[Should I?]
Do it? Don't? Do? Nah, quit? But better to do it? Might get backstabbed again—still.
He had to keep his word. That was his nature.
He'd promised to build her skills. No backing out now.
"Haa... Fine, let's do it."
"Huh?"
Estel tilted her head.
"Do what?"
"Let's go into your house. Show me the way."
He finally took a step forward. ***
Estel's room was a small one at the end of the inn's second floor. The first impression upon entering was coziness. And... lived-in charm.
Next to the bed, stacks of music books. In the corner, fabric with unfinished hand-sewing. On the desk, a small mirror, a worn brush, and a rose-shaped candlestick.
"Sit here! The bed's... mine. Absolutely no sitting! Hehe."
"...Okay."
He perched cautiously on the chair.
Estel shut the door and hung her outer coat on the rack. The room was shabby and plain, but she moved with the confidence of a star on stage—like this was her own palace.
"Want something to drink? Oh, no water. Want me to fetch some?"
"Nah. I'm good."
"Food? Got some leftover bread from breakfast. Wanna split? I'm hungry."
He shook his head.
"Eat it alone."
Estel smiled and plopped onto the bed with her palm-sized hunk of bread. Crumbs scattered each time she bit into the hardened loaf.
"Mmm, tasty. Kinda stale, though."
She chewed noisily with bread in her mouth.
"So, how're you gonna teach me?"
"Finish eating first, then talk."
He glanced around slowly. Scribbled sheet music on the desk, traces of vocal practice in the corner. She clearly put in steady effort.
"Where'd you learn the songs you know?"
"Mostly self-taught. Hear street singers and jot 'em down, memorize."
"Sheet music?"
"Can't read it. Just by ear."
"...So transcription to sight-reading, all by ear?"
"Yep! Not the dumb type. Repeat a few times, and I get the notes."
He nodded. Way more diligent than expected.
"Why not join a guild?"
"Tried once. But... heard they sell you to brothels if you join the wrong one. Too scary alone. Gave up."
"Those rumors are real. Wrong guild, and you're in deep trouble."
They chatted, and he pieced together her background. Parents back home, born poor—had to survive alone, music her way out.
"Pretty face—guys must hit on you."
"Oh, tons~ But they all ran. My voice is loud."
"Haha."
It was kinda funny. Estel said it playfully, but then her smile faded, eyes dropping.
"...Truth is."
She crumbled bread crumbs carefully with her fingertips.
"Till I make it... no interest in romance. I keep my distance. Never dated, don't even know how."
Her tone held no loneliness—just calm resolve, the creed of someone who'd hustled hard.
He nodded.
"Smart attitude."
For a female bard aiming for fame, no men around was a must. He added briefly,
"From now on, the only guy around you is me. Everyone else? Just noise."
Estel, crumbs on her lips, shot back playfully,
"Whoa, possessive much? Am I adopted now? You'll feed me, right?"
He brushed off her quirky joke and turned away.
"Let's start. Set the bread aside and sing."
Training a bard—the thing he'd vowed never to do again.
He was stepping back into it.