Chapter 265: The Honest Earl
Chapter 264: The Honest Earl
Lyria’s POV
Earl Hawthorne tilted his head, genuine confusion flickering across his features.
"Is it wrong?" he asked. "The way I played it? I thought it was quite unique. The competition did say to compose an original piece, and original pieces, by their very nature, are meant to be unique. So I thought, why not create something that no one has ever heard before? Something that would stand out from all the others?"
The Queen stared at him. Though there was little change to her expression, it was obvious she was not impressed.
"Your Lordship," the Queen said slowly, "your unique way of playing was to strike a string instrument as though it were a percussion instrument?"
Earl Hawthorne nodded, completely unbothered, seeming not to notice the tension in the hall, or perhaps he simply pretended not to.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he said. "That is precisely what I did."
He paused, glancing toward the violin still in his hands. He turned it over, examining it as though seeing it for the first time.
"And one must admit, the piece was quite well done, was it not? The rhythm was consistent. The beats were evenly spaced. It had a certain... energy to it. I thought it was rather lively."
He turned to Jacinta, his expression genuinely earnest.
"Your Highness," he said, "what did you think? Did you find it enjoyable?"
Jacinta nodded eagerly.
"I did," she said. "It was very... lively."
I pressed my hand over my mouth.
This whole competition was ridiculous. Here were men of noble standing, men who had been raised in palaces and educated by the finest tutors, and they could not seem to grasp the simplest instructions. Duke Thorncrest had played a children’s rhyme with one finger. Duke Valenridge had played a different children’s rhyme on a cello while singing off-key. And now Earl Hawthorne had turned a violin into a percussion instrument.
What was wrong with them?
I placed a hand over my mouth as if to cover a cough, though it was really laughter escaping through.
"You may see yourself off," the Queen said, waving a hand dismissively.
Earl Hawthorne did not move immediately. He stood there for a moment, as though considering whether he should obey or whether he should speak further.
"Your Majesty," he said, "if you would prefer, I could play another piece. I cannot guarantee it would be better than the first one—it might be worse, actually—but if that is what you wish, I will do it. I have a few other compositions I have been working on. They are all quite different from one another."
He paused, then added helpfully, "One of them involves tapping the strings directly. No bow at all."
The Queen shook her head.
"That will not be necessary," she said. "The Moon candidates have expressed their approval. You may leave."
He beamed.
The transformation was immediate. His confusion vanished, replaced by a wide, genuine smile. He bowed deeply—so deeply that I thought he might tip over—and then turned and walked back toward the other suitors.
Lucian looked as though he wished the floor would open and swallow him whole. His expression was pained, and he shook his head once the Earl reached their group.
Duke Thorncrest and Duke Valenridge, however, were smiling. They patted Earl Hawthorne on the back as he reached them, their expressions warm, their amusement evident. Duke Thorncrest said something, and the Earl laughed.
The competition continued.
More names were called. More performances were given. Some were masterful. Some were forgettable. Some were simply there.
One I would remember, though, was Baron Frederick’s.
He had been extremely nervous when he played. His eyes darted around, and throughout his performance, he could not get a tune correctly. At least Earl Hawthorne, Duke Valenridge, and Duke Thorncrest could get a tone out, even though it was off. Baron Frederick, though, was a different case.
And unlike the others, he could not give a proper explanation, no matter how ridiculous it may have sounded.
He was sweating a lot, and his eyes kept darting around... like he was searching for something.
I frowned. How was it that I did not notice it from the beginning? His clothes looked rumpled, unlike the perfect condition they normally were supposed to be in.
My senses tangled. There was something I couldn’t quite place. I wondered if I’d get the opportunity to speak with him privately.
The royal family looked disgusted at his display, and the Queen waved him off.
And no one noticed?
I turned to take a look around the hall. Lucian had a frown on his face as Earl Hawthorne spoke to him, both looking in the Baron’s direction.
Duke Thorncrest had a smile on his face as he watched them, while Duke Valenridge was, well, he had a blank look on his face, like he was bored.
The footman cleared his throat, making me pay attention.
"Baron Julian Redwick of Stoneford," he announced.
I straightened in my seat in anticipation.
Baron Redwick stepped forward.
He passed the piano—the instrument most of the candidates had chosen—and stopped before a different keyboard instrument. It was smaller than the piano, with a softer, more delicate sound. A harpsichord, I thought, though I was not entirely certain. Its wooden body gleamed in the candlelight, and its strings were visible through the open top.
He sat on the bench, adjusted his spectacles, and began playing.
The music that emerged was unlike anything I had heard that evening. It was precise, yes, but it was also warm. It was technically proficient, but it also carried emotion.
I closed my eyes for a moment and listened, swaying to the beat.
When the last note faded, I opened my eyes.
I joined the applause.
It seemed Baron Redwick had outdone himself once more.
But then, the Queen’s question gave me second thoughts.
"Your Lordship," she said, "do you, too, fail to understand what this competition is about?"
Baron Redwick stared at her.
"I know what the competition was about, Your Majesty."
"Then what do you have to say for yourself? The competition was to compose an original piece, was it not?" she asked him.
