Day: 1001

Days Left: 4479

Lives Saved: 5

Princess Alfreda decided that after a long day of napping and relaxing in the comfort of her tent, she should spend the rest of the evening napping and relaxing even more in the comfort of her tent. This monotony was occasionally broken up by Lili delivering food; Calanthe insisting on styling her hair again, and Corinna and three of the imps, that had taken a shine to her, would visit for a chat.

At first, Alfreda did try to pick up reading or another hobby as she was self-restricted to reside in her tent; however, these attempts soon grew more sparse until the point where the princess waited out her days doing nothing at all. There were times when Alfreda hesitated at the tent exit, considering joining the others in their games and conversations. Still, lethargy swept through her mind, and the motivation to do anything productive, anything fun, and sometimes to do anything at all disappeared. Some days, Alfreda had no appetite and could not will herself to eat, giving her portions secretly to the imps so that Lili and Calanthe would not be concerned.

These days would pass both slowly and quickly, slowly when Alfreda wanted the day to just end, and then quickly when she almost collected enough motivation to do something, but the day had already ended. Then, she would have to restart again, hoping that that motivation would rekindle tomorrow.

Every day was the same, and Alfreda had stopped counting them down. So what was even the point? She did not have a set prison sentence like everyone else; no, Alfreda was trapped in the Eternal Abyss for as long as her sister, the queen, deemed it so. Or maybe, Alfreda would be down here forever if she did not beg for her release.

Would the next generations of royalty not be told that she was down here? What if she ended up like Calixte and the imps and became forgotten, never free, and all of the people she knew on the other side were long dead?

Alfreda shook her head, struggling to keep these dark thoughts and pessimism at bay. The only hope that Alfreda had left was that her cousin, Duchess Sophia Vipond, would take the crown and free her, as the thought of Queen Corinna getting pregnant and bearing a successor was indeed laughable. Yet the fear was still there. What were the chances that Sophia had worked out that the 'Princess Alfreda' on the other side was indeed a fake and the real one was imprisoned in the Eternal Abyss? Sophia's intelligence and deduction skills were... perhaps not the best. Still, Alfreda remained hopeful that, at the very least, her cousin could tell an imposter apart and maybe come to the conclusion that Alfreda was in the Abyss... or would Sophia believe her to be dead?

Groaning, Alfreda flopped onto her pillow, nesting into the nest of blankets. There was no use worrying about it so much, for there was nothing that she could do from this side but wait in the hopes that one day she would be free from here without having to plead to her sister.

Despite sleeping for most of the day, or rather for months now, Alfreda's body was still swarmed with fatigue and exhaustion. Then, about to close her eyes to rest, a tingling sensation pricked the back of Alfreda's neck, a feeling she had felt over half a year ago.

She paused a moment, considering whether or not to answer the call, surprised that she was even given the option until she sucked in a breath and accepted it.

After laying down and closing her eyes, Alfreda soon opened them and found herself surrounded by darkness, though she could see herself perfectly clear. Then, with enough time to imagine herself in a regal gown instead of her worn nightgown, Princess Alfreda turned to see the image of a white thrown emerge in her sleeping mindscape.

Eventually, a figure appeared sitting on the throne; Queen Corinna IX, adorned in a plain silver garment covering all of her skin and her iconic featureless white mask.

Princess Alfreda waved her hand slightly and conjured up her own seating, a lavish cushioned divan, and she lounged on it casually, pretending to be more focused on the state of her nails than her sister.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise," Alfreda cooed, barely giving her sister a second glance. She snapped her paper fan open. "You want to talk now after so long?"

"Yes, it has been over half a year," replied Queen Corinna IX in her usual flat tone.

"And you are still hiding behind that mask?"

"Still hiding in that tent?"

Alfreda attempted to cover her scowl at that comment, remembering to be a closed book, especially as if she were to let her guard down; her sister could easily read her thoughts in her mind. She wafted her fan, almost breaking the handle from her vice-like grip. "What is it you want, Little Cori? Have you come to steal the rest of my servants?" she spat. "How are Daina and Pearl? Do you find them amusing? I suppose you enjoyed taking them away from me?"

Queen Corinna IX shifted in her throne. "It was not Our plan to persuade them to betray you. It was-"

"Yes, yes, that Sector Director's plan," Alfreda grumbled, disappointed that she did not receive as much of a response. "But I imagine you were thrilled, Your Majesty, that they chose you over me."

The queen was silent for a moment before finally replying, "We came here to discuss something else."

"What?"

"Our cousin," the queen began. "She is proving a nuisance and knows that the 'Princess Alfreda' is a fake."

Alfreda chuckled, hiding her smile with her paper fan. She vowed not to underestimate Sophia again. "Of course, she worked it out. You obviously cannot replicate perfection."

"We are considering how to proceed and resolve this issue," said Queen Corinna. "If Sophia were to reveal the truth to anyone, it would potentially jeopardise Our reign."

"And what? You want my help!" Alfreda cackled. "Why would you think I would help you? How foolish can you be, dear sister? You can sort it yourself."

The queen straightened herself on her throne. "We already have a plan, two plans to be exact. Which one We choose is up to your response."

"Again, I am not assisting you in fooling my cousin-"

"That is not what We are asking." The queen paused. "It has been almost four years; that is enough time for things to change, for you to have changed."

Princess Alfreda paused, fanning herself, the paper fan resting on her lips.

"We would not need to fool Sophia if you were actually here," the queen continued. "You could be free, and Sophia would no longer have anything to expose. All you have to do is apologise, and you will be free. Of course, We can tell how sincere your apology will be-"

"No," hissed Alfreda, her fan snapping in her grip. "I will not apologise! It is not I who is the one to apologise! I will never beg! Do you hear me, Little Cori!"

"The alternative is to stage your death," said Queen Corinna, her voice surprisingly calm. "Which would mean that your return will be difficult to explain; it may mean that you may never return."

Alfreda bit her lip, her face still scrunched up, yet there was something in her mind warning her to surrender, beg, plead, and leave the Eternal Abyss. Surely her pride was not worth this?

"It is your choice," continued the queen.

"No..." Alfreda eventually muttered. She held her head high, keeping eye contact with her sister defiantly. "I will never apologise or beg."

"We will give you some time to change your mind." And with that, the image of the queen disappeared, leaving an empty throne.

Alfreda woke, unable to contain her tears as she sobbed into her pillow.

Roughly 300 Years Ago

The time for the third lesson soon passed by, and Calixte waited in the ballroom for his student. He had wished the lesson would be held in the piano room like before, but Calixte knew it would be impolite to make such a request. As he patiently waited, his eyes were drawn to the piano, the instrument pleading for him to play, but Calixte used all of his strength to resist.

Queen Violette arrived into the ballroom late for her lesson, dressed in her horse-riding garb: fitted high-waisted purple trousers, silver doublet, and a shoulder cape that matched her white and violet mask that she always wore.

"We apologise for not being punctual, Lord Barbeau," began Queen Violette. "His Majesty's- my husband's hunt went on for longer than predicted."

"Please, Your Majesty." Calixte bowed. "There is no need to apologise."

"Regardless, you shall still be compensated for your time waiting."

Calixte wanted to object, but the queen gave a sharp look as he was about to open his mouth. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Let us begin the lesson," said the queen as one of her servants unattached her shoulder cape and folded it up.

As standard, Calixte asked Queen Violette to play her scales, which the monarch performed flawlessly, each note correct, yet somehow it sounded atrocious, even more than previous lessons. When the queen asked for feedback, Calixte merely replied that there was nothing to correct. Whilst it was true, there was something inside of Calixte tempted to tell the whole truth that after hearing the queen's playing, he wanted nothing more than to chop off his ears and quit teaching. That was, of course, an exaggeration, but there were some times when Calixte did consider doing that seriously.

After the queen proved that she could play each note in the scales perfectly, though sounding like a fog horn, Calixte taught her two new ones to add to her repertoire before moving on to the sight-reading exercises.

Queen Violette played each one multiple times as instructed, all of the notes and rhythm perfect as usual but all of them sounding like they should be titled 'stomping', 'crashing', and 'smashing' instead of 'skipping', 'cartwheeling', and 'boating'.

Once she completed all the exercises, Queen Violette turned to Calixte expectantly for feedback.

Calixte hesitated, then responded, "Your Majesty played that perfectly; each note was on point and in time."

The queen remained silent for a long moment, staring at Calixte.

Swallowing, Calixte straightened his back and shoulders to combat his nerves. The queen's expression was unreadable with that white and purple mask on her face. Calixte wondered if perhaps she was waiting for more critiques. About to continue with more praise, Queen Violette spoke before Calixte.

"Please, leave us," the queen instructed her royal staff.

The three handmaids seemed relieved to leave the ballroom as it meant that they did not have to hear their queen's atrocious piano playing; the two royal guards also were pleased about this but were more reluctant to leave the queen unattended and unprotected until Queen Violette assured them that it was only for a moment.

Once the servants and royal guards closed the door behind, Calixte was left alone with the queen in the large and empty ballroom, a grand piano between them. He clasped his gloved hands together as his mind racked through everything he had done, wondering if he had perhaps committed a wrong or a slight against the monarch.

"Why are you lying to me, Lord Barbeau?" asked the queen.

Calixte hesitated, his mouth opening then closed as he did not know the wisest way to respond. The realisation that he could be imprisoned or even executed for deceiving the queen appeared in Calixte's mind. His body froze in fear, unable to answer, only staring back in fright.

"I can expect my servants to lie to me, to praise my playing," continued Queen Violette. "But not you, Lord Barbeau. You are my teacher, are you not?"

Calixte bowed and replied softly, "yes, I am, Your Majesty."

"Do you lie to your other students, Lord Barbeau? Do you tell them that they are perfect despite the evidence?"

"No, I do not, Your Majesty." Calixte paused. "However, Your Majesty does play perfectly, every note, all in time-"

"Then why does it sound so wrong!" the queen snapped. As soon as the words left her lips, she glanced away, letting out a long tired sigh. "I apologise for my outburst." Her gloved hands reached for the piano keys, gently caressing them but dared not play. "Why did you lie to me? Was it because you feared to give me criticism because I am a queen?"

"Yes, along the lines, Your Majesty." Calixte scrunched up his face in regret. "And I do apologise. I promised Your Majesty I would treat you like my previous students, yet I broke that promise."

"I will not have you punished for following your job requirements, Barbeau," said the queen. "How am I to improve if I do not know what I am doing wrong?"

"Yes, Your Majesty is quite right."

The queen sighed again in defeat. "I am not deaf, Barbeau. I can hear the music I play; I know how horrendous it sounds. But no matter how much I practise, it never seems to approve." She turned back to Calixte. "Please, be upfront with me, Barbeau; how does my music sound?"

"Oh, terrible, so very terrible," answered Calixte, then he cupped his gloved hands over his mouth as if such a gesture could grab those words before the queen had heard them.

But of course, she had.

"I apologise, Your Majesty!" Calixte bowed his head low. "That was-" He stopped his desperate apologies, hearing a slight giggle from behind the queen's mask. At first, he thought that perhaps he had imagined it until he raised his head and saw the queen's gloved hand covering her mouth, or at least where her lips were behind her mask.

"Thank you for your honesty, Barbeau," said the queen, her voice sounding lighter and softer as her laughter settled down. "I much prefer you to be frank with me if possible. Since I married the king, no one has been honest with me. It seems that people will go to great lengths to lie to spare my feelings and pride or fear punishment if they slight me." She glanced at Calixte. "You and my servants have endured my terrible playing to spare my feelings?"

Calixte nodded. "Then, Your Majesty, I will be honest about your playing as I should have done right at the start. It is my duty as your teacher to tell you both the good and the bad."

"Perfect, thank you," said the queen. She turned to the sheet music before her, then returned to face Calixte. "I wish for you to play, Barbeau. I want to hear how it is supposed to sound."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

They swapped seats, with Calixte in front of the piano and Queen Violette sitting at the side to listen and learn.

The exercise on the music sheet before Calixte was one titled 'boating', the melody mimicking the constant movement of a river and the boat bobbing along. For a professional pianist, the music was elementary; Calixte could perhaps perform it in his sleep. With the melody so easy, Calixte's mind quickly slipped away, his hands moving without any commands from his brain. The music guided him to a memory from his childhood when his family would travel to the countryside every summer and stay in a quaint cottage near a river. They would sail along that river at a leisurely pace, drifting along the babbling water, letting the current guide them. It was one of the few occasions that all of his family were together in one place, no responsibilities, no servants, just family and the peaceful river.

After repeating the exercise a few times, Calixte let the last note linger and fade away as the boat drifting on the river disappeared on the horizon in his mind.

There was a moment of silence until the queen finally managed to speak again. "How?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "How can you make something so simple be..." Queen Violette glanced down at her gloved hands, and Calixte saw that they were trembling. It made him wonder what was behind the queen's mask, her expression.

Collecting herself, the queen raised her head and looked directly at Calixte, her voice no longer a hush but not as strong and clear as her usual tone. "I played the same notes as you did," she continued. "And yet we sound so different." She chuckled slightly, though it sounded more pained than playful. "What am I doing wrong? I know I'm playing it just as the sheet music instructs. So, why does my playing sound so terrible?"

Calixte paused, considering his words, then replied, "music is more than just playing the right notes. But, of course, it is an art form; all art is derived from emotion and feeling." His gloved hands hovered over the keys. "You can play the same notes..." Calixte played a chord; it rang out jovial and sprightly like a faerie across the ballroom. "But put a different emotion behind them..." He played the chord again, but it was quiet and sombre this time. "And they sound completely different."

"Emotion..." Queen Violette glanced down at the floor, her gloved hands clasping together.

"Without emotion, I suppose music would just be rendered to rancorous noise with no meaning or purpose."

"What emotion were you projecting in that piece just now?" asked the queen.

Calixte looked back to the sheet music. "Well, the title is 'boating', so I just remembered when my family and I would sail along a river in the countryside on holidays." He played a part of the melody. "That feeling of relaxation, calm, letting the world take you somewhere; I just thought of that as I played."

"I see..."

After studying the queen for a moment, Calixte cleared his throat and said, "how about you give it a try?"

The queen looked up. "Playing with emotion?"

"Yes, yes, I can assure Your Majesty that you will hear a vast difference when you begin to play."

They swapped seats again, with Queen Violette sitting before the grand piano. Calixte flicked through the sheet music and placed a different exercise before his student to play, titled 'skipping' that contained only alternating notes. "Why don't you try this one?" he said. "It is a straightforward exercise which should allow you to concentrate on putting the emotion behind it."

Queen Violette nodded and placed her gloved hands on the two keys in the exercise.

But she did not play anything. For a long moment, all the queen did was stare at the sheet music, her fingers ready to play yet not. Eventually, she turned to Calixte. "What emotion should I put behind this?"

"Well," Calixte paused, a bit taken aback by the question. "Why does someone skip?"

The queen eventually replied, "because they are a child?"

Calixte chuckled slightly. "Yes, I suppose children are likelier to skip than adults, but why does someone skip?"

Queen Violette replied, "I do not know."

"We skip because we are joyful," answered Calixte. "The feeling of happiness is so powerful that it takes over our entire body that it makes us want to skip."

"So, I should think of a time I skipped?"

"Does Your Majesty skip when she is happy?"

The queen giggled. "No, I do not." Then her laughter faded away. "Will I not be able to play this piece, then? As I have not skipped when I am happy?"

"No, no, that was not what I meant. You do not have to have literally skipped for joy to play, but rather a similar emotion. I suggest recalling a memory that made you happy and joyful."

"A happy memory, I see..." The queen returned her focus to the piano, her gloved hands hovering above the keys.

Once again, she did not play, her head bowed and staring at her hands as if eventually they would start playing if she stared long enough at them. Finally, after a considerable silence, Queen Violette retreated her hands away from the piano as if admitting defeat and continued looking down at the floor.

"Well," Calixte swallowed. "It does take some practise, of course. So that will be Your Majesty's homework this week: practise playing with emotion. It does not have to be the 'skipping' exercise; you may choose a different one if you prefer."

"I shall do that." The queen nodded. "Thank you for today's lesson, Barbeau, and your honesty."

The servants and bodyguards reentered the ballroom and escorted Queen Violette out.

Calixte remained by the piano for a while longer, recalling back to their first lesson and how the queen had complimented the first piece had played but was disinterested in the others. He now realised why: emotion.