The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [183]
“Well, that’s good,” he said. “That’s very good.” He hoped he hadn’t insulted her.
“And?” she queried. Leoff realized he hadn’t actually explained.
“Right,” he said. “I would like you to sing the lead role.”
Her eyes widened improbably large. “Me?”
“Ah, yes,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Or at least audition for it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was struck by your singing voice at Lady Gramme’s. It’s not only lovely, but precisely the voice I’m looking for for this performance. I think you’ll understand when you’ve read the part.”
“The part?” she said, frowning in puzzlement.
“Yes, yes—it’s a new sort of thing, somewhat like a lustspell but a bit more—um, elevated.”
“I should hope so,” the governess huffed.
“Oh, hush, Jen,” Areana said. “You enjoy the lustspells as much as I do. We only pretend to disdain them, remember?”
“Yes, but a girl of your position—”
“Hear me out,” Leoff said, “Please. It’s the story of Lihta, from Broogh. You know the tale?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You would sing the part of Lihta.”
“You mean act it,” Areana corrected.
“No, no, look here,” he said, showing her the music. “You can read, can’t you?”
“She reads very well,” the governess asserted.
As Areana looked over the pages he saw comprehension begin to dawn.
“You see?” he said.
She looked at him doubtfully. “It’s my Newland accent you want, isn’t it?”
“In part,” he conceded. “And I also believe that if this play is going to be for the people of Newland and Eslen, one of you should be in it. But you have to understand, I would never compromise my music for such a whim. You have a sort of—of—innocent boldness that any other singer would have to feign. In you it is pure.”
Areana blushed again, more deeply this time. “Now I really don’t know what to say,” she said.
“Well, here, let’s try a bit of it,” he suggested.
“All right.”
He chose Lihta’s first air, which she sang beautifully, and then the trickier bit he called a spellsing, a sort of cross between talking and singing. Well before she was done, he knew his instincts had been correct.
“It’s lovely,” she said.
“When sung with such a voice, it cannot help but be,” Leoff told her. “I truly hope you will consider the part.”
“If you really think me suitable, I would be honored,” she gushed.
“You are as perfectly suitable as can be,” Leoff said, beaming. Then he coughed, and composed his features more seriously. “But I need to tell you something rather important. It may change your mind.”
“And what is that?”
“Praifec Hespero has expressly forbidden the performance of this as written. When we defy him, he will be angry. I think I shall bear the brunt of his displeasure, and will certainly take all responsibility, but there is some danger to everyone involved, you included.”
“Why should the praifec disapprove?” Areana demanded. “There is nothing unholy here, surely?”
“Not in the least, I assure you.”
“Then—”
“The praifec is a man of the saints,” the governess suddenly interjected. “We certainly cannot go against his word.”
“But it doesn’t seem reasonable—,” Areana began.
“Areana, no,” her governess warned. “You shouldn’t get mixed up in this.”
Areana faced Leoff. “Why do you take this risk?” she asked. “Why do you ask me to?”
“Because it will be magnificent,” he said softly. “I know in my heart it is right, and I will not be deterred. I told you I would never compromise my music, and I never will, not when I know I have created something worth hearing.”
Areana continued to stare at him, biting a little at her lip. Then she lowered her eyes.
“Jen is right,” she said. “I believe you, Leoff. I believe in you. But I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
He nodded, feeling disheartened. “Thank you for your time, then. It was good to hear you sing a bit of it once, anyway.”
“The honor was mine, sir,” she said. “And thank you for your honesty.”
“Come,” the governess said. “We might be in trouble even for coming here.”
They left, and Leoff sat back down, disheartened, hoping all the auditions didn’t go this way.