SHORTS AND SPECIALS

Mother's Day 2024

Valdís

She'd already missed so much of the conversation.

Valdís held her breath, fingers running over the ring on her other hand as she counted the beads in her head, forcing eye contact with the people around her.

The others laughed, so she did as well. It was not a charming kind. She didn't know what that would look like anyway, but her mother had so helpfully pointed it out earlier so Valdís would take her word for it.

Focus.

"And I could not for the life of me recall who made those arrangements," Lady Fulton said, and Valdís had no idea in what context. They had been talking about shoes the last time she'd listened, so what arrangement?

"— if you didn't receive help before then," Lord Nowery finished his sentence, and Valdís cursed on the inside. Her thoughts had blocked out sounds again and she'd missed the first half of the sentence.

And now she'd missed Lady Fulton's response while thinking that.

Another dignified chuckle between the group, and Valdís managed another smile of clueless agreement.

"That is actually quite common with syncope," Doctor Goodwin said. "If you stand up too quickly—"

"Oh! Have you noticed how Camillo never uses syncopations in his symphonies anymore?" Valdís blurted out. It was then or seemingly never. She had to partake in the conversation somehow, and she would not let the others move on now that she had a chance. "He used to be so fond of them, but apparently the grand inquisitors in Traque have suggested that accents on a supposedly wrong beat is a 'a source of occult power'. Like it could lead people into being possessed or morally corrupt, or just believe anything they're told which would give The Waste a foothold in their minds."

A brief silence, and Valdís let them all take in the hilarious information.

"... Is that so, Your Grace?" Doctor Goodwin smiled. "I did not know that."

Valdís brightened up.

"It's fascinating, isn't it? In a curious, perplexing way. How would that even make sense? Why would syncopated songs cause such horror? Yet they claim music in itself is a moral issue, as it relies on tone and how it's used to show motives through the way it's written, which can be used by darker forces to influence those who listen to the 'wrong' kind, but it's not like Phion himself is going to come down and reprimand humans just for listening to a different type of composition. It sounds to me like they're looking for a way to underpay our best composers, but either way I'd say they're making a mistake. He might as well take his work elsewhere if the sanctuaries won't make it worth his while. Of course, it's doubtful he'll find as wealthy a client as them, but if they're hindering his artistic process, I can't blame him."

The more she looked around as she went on, however, the less people seemed to be listening. They'd begun straightening their clothes or looking around aimlessly, but worst of all, some of them were looking at each other while smiling.

But not the good kind of smile.

Heat rose in Valdís' cheeks, and words failed her the more she retreated into her mind again.

"So, uh..." She blanked, panic engulfing her as the others waited. They had to, she supposed. Her title demanded it so they would play along, but Valdís had seen those expressions before, and they were not friendly. "... I hope they acknowledge his talent, and... uh..."

"Oh, there you are, Your Grace!" A hand landed on her shoulder, and Valdís dared to breathe out at the sound of his voice. "I've been looking everywhere."