It was a name that was occasionally mentioned in the original novel—the heroine herself! And it’s fitting because she’s also a choir member.
Wait, but wasn’t Eris tone-deaf I couldn’t remember the exact details.
Luckily for me, Mrs.
Cecid didn’t seem to know about Countess Deron.
“Nice to meet you, Ms.
I gave her a slight nod, “I’m grateful for your help, Mrs.
Cecid.” She nodded and beckoned me to come follow her to the choir lounge perched on the second floor. I really have to go to Lina.
At the lounge, there were women who were either changing into their choir uniforms or practicing by singing in a low voice.
I checked the doors but it wasn’t the Leffield class.
People passed by the lounge without much of a glance.
Cecid didn’t mind that I was silent the whole time I was following her.
She probably assumed that I was just a shy little girl.
She took a choir uniform from the clothes rack and handed it to me, and ordered a passing maid to dress me up real quick.
“We only have three days left, so we don’t have enough time to practice.
Have you memorized all the lyrics” She said and pushed me into the lounge called “Ocrateus”.
At this point I’m already crying inside because it was only a matter of time until I got caught.
But suddenly, the door opened and people wearing the same choir uniform came rushing out.
“What are you doing just standing here Hurry up and go follow them!” Mrs.
Cecid turned her head, “Hey!”
She called for a girl who probably belonged to Ocrateus’ class.
The girl stopped in her tracks and asked, “Yes Can I help you”
“This lady here is part of Ocrateus’ class.
Go take her with you.”
The girl tilted her head to the side, “Ocrateus’ class”
Deron here said that she belongs to Ocrateus’ class, correct” Mrs.
Cecid faced me.
But the girl quickly piped up, stopping me from answering, “Ms.
Deron Oh! Are you Eris Cia Deron” She looked at me curiously and clapped her hands together in glee.
“Oh my God! I thought you weren’t coming because you never showed up after you registered your name.
I can’t believe you’re here to practice! You’ve memorized the lyrics, right”
Why do people keep on asking me if I have memorized all the lyrics Fortunately for me, Eris really did belong to Ocrateus’ class.
I swear this is the last time I’ll ever answer anyone!
It’s like my life expectancy was slowly decreasing as the day went by.
I didn’t even have the chance to change into my choir uniform when I was whisked away by that brown-haired girl.
I wondered if I should give my sincere apologies to the real Eris if I ever meet her one day.
The rehearsal was held at the main part of the choir hall.
After the ancestral rites, a banquet for the aristocrats would soon follow at the same place.
I managed to get this information from the emperor, who kept on complaining that he did not want to go to that specific banquet.
While my mind was filled with random thoughts, the brunette girl smiled at me and pulled me by the arm.
Deron, we comprise twenty people now! It’s your first time here today, so stand next to me, okay Lerodia is tall so I’ll send her to the back.”
I had no choice but to smile and nod.
The brunette continued, “I heard that the recent war had been brutal, so you must have been extremely busy.”
“Yes, something like that.” Why couldn’t they just leave me alone I felt like crying.
Yes, while Eris knew how to use a sword, she didn’t exactly participate in the Lucretia War because she was busy helping her father.
The Isle Itirium and temple were also far from Eris’ home and based on the original book, it was said that Earl Deron did not bring Eris to the island after the conquest war and that he himself didn’t come near the island to help defend the border.
I have no choice but to impersonate the heroine.
“I’m Rubia, my father is the viscount Toron.”
I nodded, “Nice to meet you.”
Rubia thought I was the first in the line up so she patiently told me the order of the songs.
Listening to her talk, I realized that the song she was referring to was the song that literally everybody knew about.
It wasn’t a fond memory, but my ex-owner, that freaking son of a b*tch, loved this particular song.
It wasn’t strange that he had such a weird taste.
Thanks to him, I had the songs ingrained in my memory, and I never thought I would ever thank that vile man in my entire life.
When I got to the podium, Rubia introduced me to anyone we happened to pass by.
She stirred me to a place where I could sing and everyone was more than happy to welcome me with open arms.
If only I could scatter and disappear like fog, that would be great.
Desperation was washing over me.
Good thing that I was also with twenty more people so the priest wasn’t really paying attention to me.
She lined the people up here and there, instructed the performers and reminded them the important elements when singing.
Then, Rubia showed me her music sheet, “This is the first song.”
Blessed of Theres. I know this song!
It was one of my favorites.
The song was bright, cheerful and it had a little fast cadence to it.
My heart started to pound rhythmically against my chest when I realized I could finally sing again.
For nearly five years, I sang with all my heart out that my throat almost bled.
And in the past few months, I couldn’t speak because my throat got injured.
This moment felt surreal.
Something warm spread through my chest.
There was no one to swing his whip at me for not singing, no one giving me a dirty look and no one to worry about.
I want to sing.
I clenched my fists tightly and pressed it in front of my chest, feeling like my heart would come barreling out if I didn’t.
The maestro fixed himself in front of us and tapped on the pole to draw everyone’s attention, “Let’s practice, shall we Are you ready”
“Yes.” We said in unison.
Then, the orchestra began.
Soft tunes from the piano started, then the harps were strung softly.
It’s been a while since I last heard this song.
I closed my eyes as the harmonious melody enveloped me from the inside out, the beautiful tunes of both the piano and harp fused together pleasantly.
Having the chance to sing my favorite song felt like a dream.
Then, the maestro’s baton was pointed high.