The Princess and the Bard (Royals of the Realms #1)

Chapter Two: The First Performance

"I trust your grandmother explained that it's customary to accommodate you on the same floor as the bards."

Tomso had spoken between spoonfuls of the creamy, fragrant soup one of the all-male serving staff had placed before them, but Alori wasn't really listening.

Music was playing somewhere outside the conductor's private dining room. The bards were practicing. Were they composing? If she listened intently, would she be able to pick out his piano among the others?

"It's been found that the, ehm..." Tomso cleared his throat. "Closer you are to the source, as it were, the easier this process shall be." He held his hand in front of his mouth, obscuring a quiet burp. "Have you a favorite so far, Your Highness?"

Alori's eyes snapped up from her untouched meal. She'd half expected to find the old man leering at her, anxious for a juicy admission. Instead he blinked innocently, his eyes flitting between her guarded face and the marchioness.

What had he meant by getting close to the source? The bards were men, not inanimate power supplies for her magic.

She spun her spoon around in her soup. "I was a bit far away to form a complete decision on their individual marriageability."

Hamoni chuckled quietly into her wine goblet.

If Tomso knew Alori had a favorite composer, she wouldn't be the one to confirm it for the smarmy old man. An early advantage was not something she wanted any of the bards to expect. Like she'd told her grandmother, and as she'd reiterated to herself every few minutes since arriving, her decision would be based on more than talent. It had to be.

Before tackling her performance compatibility with the bards, she'd endeavor to learn their minds. Alori's mother had taught her many things, but this lesson was perhaps the most imperative. A marriage without deep love and healthy communication was destined to fail, no matter how beautiful the music or how potent the magic.

But then again, how could she deny the opportunity to be closer to his compositions for the rest of her life? They gave her such joy, and made a difficult job easier. There wasn't anything Alori longed to hear more than her favorite pieces played by the composer who had written them.

"I should point out that we don't endorse the wild colors some of these young men have taken up. Red and blue hair? Bah!" Tomso frowned, blotting his wet lips with his napkin. "We requested they rinse it out prior to your arrival but as you saw, it wasn't a great success. If you'd like, we can arrange to have their hair dyed. It would be my preference, but I shall leave it to you, princess."

Alori imagined the blue-haired bard changing his hair on her command, and smiled to herself. "That won't be necessary."

"Do you like all these loud colors, then?"

Tomso leaned back in his chair so a servant could take away his empty bowl. Alori tried not to stare at the rotund protuberance of his stomach.

What did she care about outlandish hair color, really? It wasn't her preference, but maybe that was for the best in this case.

"I'm not particularly interested in their looks," she said quietly. "I'm more concerned with what's underneath the surface."

Most of the men were fit and relatively handsome, which she knew was not a coincidence, so it felt a bit like cheating to claim appearance was a non-factor. But she hadn't been the one to decide who was invited to enroll at the academy and vie for her matrimonial collar.

"I see." Tomso nodded as if he understood, but the look on his face said otherwise. "Do you mean you're more interested in their intellectual capacity?"