Lily Marin - three short steampunk stories. Book 2.
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and sat down on the bed. Who was that woman? What was she trying to do? Break into rooms and steal things? Those and several more questions flew around her head as Lily changed from Masked Woman to sleepy singer, and quite a while after blowing out the candle, her mind was occupied by them.
-=-=-
It was only towards the morning, when light tried to push itself through a slit in the heavy curtains, that Lily dozed off. Her slumber was cut short by a fast rapping on the door, and Billy's voice faintly coming through it. Lily peeled herself from the bed, clenched her teeth as her barely warm feet hit the stone cold floor, and called out to Billy to wait. She found a robe, which she quickly put on, and then opened the door.
"Good morning, Lily," said the young man, rubbing his knuckles. Then he raised his eyebrows. "Apparently not so good, judging from your face. Did you not sleep well?"
"That is a kind way to say it," Lily said, hiding most of herself behind the door. "Why are you making such a racket?"
"Apparently there was a thief in the night, from some rooms items were taken. I just wanted to make sure you are well."
Images of the woman in black and the shadows she had cast in the flickering candle light, sprang to Lily's mind for a moment. "I'm well. Thank you. No one was in here, I am sure." After a hesitation she added: "And that's very kind of you."
Billy smiled. "You're most welcome. Oh, before I forget, Selma heard that breakfast is in the main hall in about an hour. Do you want me to come and walk you there?"
These were the moments when Lily had to take care. The Masked Woman had no problem finding her way here, in places where she had been once. Lily Marin, the singer, had to be entirely different though. "Uhm, I think that would be nice of you, Billy. Thank you."
Again, the young man smiled, and promised he'd be there in time.
-=-=-
The day went by quite quickly. After breakfast, the ladies of the choir went for a walk in the snow-white countryside that surrounded the castle. Billy was with them, 'for protection' as he liked to claim, as well as one of the people from the Count's staff. That man probably was more protection in his underwear than Billy could be with any armour of choice, Lily thought to herself. Also the sister of the Count, Dumitra, had joined the group.
Lily enjoyed the crisp, fresh air as the group strolled through the freshly fallen snow, but most ladies soon expressed a clear desire to go back inside, where it was warm, and tea would be aplenty. Dumitra laughed at them, and told them in her interesting accented voice that they had not seen proper winters, if they already were uncomfortable with this weather.
The afternoon was spent rehearsing the songs that would be sung that evening. The cold weather outside had clearly affected the throats of the ladies. Lily cringed at times as she heard the slips and falters of the voices.
"I suggest we take a short break, ladies," she suggested as the songs were butchered more and more. "Give your voices some rest, drink something warm and we'll continue in half an hour."
Mrs. Henley argued that stopping would not help, as that would cool down the vocal cords. Most of the ladies of the choir had walked off already, though, so Mrs. Henley's only target of suppressed fury was Lily, and she did not really feel threatened by the older lady.
After the short break, the rehearsals went a lot better, much to Lily's delight. Mrs. Henley did not twitch a muscle.
-=-=-
"Lily, do you need help?" Selma's voice barely made it through the thick door, but the singer with her powerful senses heard her friend as if she was in the room already. Lily was struggling with the dress she was going to wear that evening; for a change Selma came as Godsent.
"I do!" A mix of resignation and despair seeped from these two words, clear enough for Selma to demand immediate access to the room. Lily opened the door, after shuffling to it, the dress wrapped around her knees in an awkward manner. She tried to keep most of the fabric from the floor to keep the dress clean.
Selma laughed as she saw Lily in her moment of humiliation. "I'm sorry, Lily, but you just look too funny and helpless." It was what Lily had been afraid of, but Selma's good mood and expert help resolved the situation as well as Lily's own gloomy feelings very quickly.
"There we are." Selma stepped back. "Very nice indeed. Look for yourself."
Lily did as her friend suggested. She carefully examined her appearance in the large mirror that stood near one of the dark stone walls and had to agree that she looked her best.
"Billy will be delighted too," Selma tossed it in as a casual remark. It was by far not casual enough. She would love to see Lily and Billy as a couple, and had never made a secret of that.
"I'll be delighted if the choir sings as well as they did with the last three songs of the afternoon," Lily ignored the implication, as she picked her shawl from a chair. "I think we're ready, don't you?"
The ladies left Lily's room and proceeded to the grand hall where the evening dinner would be served. As they walked there, Selma dropped one more hint to Lily, commenting that she had been pleased to see Lily fix Billy's tie the night before. The comment was met by silence from the singer, but Selma did not take offence. She knew Lily.
Lily had to stare for a moment as they entered the grand dining hall. It was hardly recognisable as the hall they had been in the previous evening. The entire place was an explosion of colours, because of the many flowers that were everywhere. Lily wondered how these had been acquired in the middle of the winter. In every fireplace, and there were many, flames burnt brightly, bringing a wonderful atmosphere to the large space, as well as a very comfortable warmth. Which, she thought, would be good for the singing voices.
The long tables were set with delicate china, silverware and a sea of candles in what had to be crystal candle-holders. None of the ladies from the choir had enough eyes to take everything in. Since most of them came from families of standing, this said something of the way everything was decorated.
Three kind ladies, acting as hostesses, guided the members of the choir to their designated seats at one of the tables a bit to the side. The other tables were already filling up well. The people at those tables, Lily was certain, were all from the upper circles of society. Their rich costumes and dresses, as well as the impressive amounts of jewellery she saw were silent evidence of that. She saw the count and his sister, as well as Duke Wanzinger, sitting at the head of the largest table. The duke and the count were engaged in conversation, and Dumitra, the count's sister (did that make her a countess, Lily wondered), looked around with a bored expression.
The woman caught Lily's stare and seemed to wave shortly at her, but Lily assumed that was a mistake on her side. Still, she raised her hand for a second before she turned towards the table to locate her seat. As if Selma had had a hand in it, one seat next to Lily remained free. And of course Billy was late. Again.
The count had already started a welcoming speech to all the guests when Billy finally arrived. One of the hostesses quietly guided him to the chair. Selma smiled at her nephew. Lily did not want to shoot him an angry look, even though he deserved it, so she did not even glance at him. If his tie was a mess, then so be it.
The count did not spend too much time on the speech, but as he finished, the duke, the guest of honour, took over, and he was not planning on cutting his words short. As the man talked, Lily stared at her fingers, at the cutlery in front of her and at the pattern in the nice table cloth. She did anything to avoid giving Billy any attention, despite his attempts to talk to her in whispers. And that annoyed her, because Bily had never done anything to harm her, he'd been helpful and kind, and - no, she could not let him come too close. He was already too near to where she felt comfortable.
"Lily? Are you feeling well?" It was Selma's voice, so the singer looked up.
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Lily wondered what appeared to be wrong.
"You don't seem to be," Selma whispered over the table. "It would be nice if you can at least keep a straight face."
Lily suppressed a sigh and put on her best fake smile. At least that was not difficult for her. By then the duke had ended his speech, and the first course of the dinner was brought in.
After the main course, the choir was asked to sing a few song. Of course this did not come as a surprise, and Lily as well as Mrs. Henley were quite satisfied with how the songs were performed. They would sing more after the dinner, while coffee, tea and perhaps more wine would flow.
Billy had ceased his attempts to talk with Lily, to her great relief. Yet, at the same time she felt a bit sorry for him. As she had returned to the table, after singing, she had noticed his tie needed some correction, but she had not given in to the urge. Then the unexpected happened.
Suddenly loud voices rang through the hall, followed by the sound of falling chairs and more yelling. All the ladies of the choir turned to the source of the noise and saw the count and the duke standing opposite each other, holding each other by the collar of their expensive jackets. The gentlemen kept shouting at each other, and the urgency in their voices gave reason to believe that they were not going to stop soon.
"Ladies," said Mrs. Henley, "perhaps we should leave the hall until this is settled." Most of the choir-members rose from their chairs, a few were too fascinated by the goings on at the main table to react; they needed a gentle prod.
Lily