I started offering my singing service to Readorium patrons, it was quick to pick up popularity among the few regulars. I hoped they would tell their friends and that word would spread but being serenaded wasn't something that drew interest. If that were my only problem then I could rest easy but unfortunately, life wasn't that simple. Among the many issues that plagued my mind one of the more immediate ones was Alex. Who was he? 'A waltz is one of the types of music that nobles dance to at their little events.' Hann's words echoed in my mind reminding me just how efficiently I might have screwed everything up. Why did he know of that music?

I confronted Alex about his knowledge of such fancy music, after all, he might have had an interest in the art. Maybe I was overreacting but he was one of the worst liars I had ever seen.

"Ah I just overheard something similar one day and someone told me what it was."

Alex half-smiled while avoiding eye contact, he looked up, down and behind himself, everywhere except straight forwards. I couldn't understand how those words passed through his brain and out of his mouth. 'I just love music, that's why I was interested in hearing you sing.' That was all he needed to say, I still wouldn't have believed it but at least it was plausible. My only saving grace was that he didn't seem to understand what I did. It made sense that even the rich and powerful might not have met a blade tender in these lands, they wouldn't have been given a chance to use their skills.

Over the first week, I was practically losing my mind waiting for the guards to rush in and grab me or for Hann to tell me that we were moving again. By the end of the second week, I was cautiously optimistic and by the third, I felt relatively safe. I didn't know why Alex chose to dress up like a beggar and wander the surface city but I was saved by his inexperience. Though I didn't like the situation I had gained valuable knowledge, for some reason Alex didn't trigger any visions for me. Was he too strong? Was my skill lacking? Was he just free from regret or sadness? Maybe a mix of all three? I had no clue and didn't know where to begin.

At the time I decided to focus on other people first, the Alex issue didn't seem to be a pressing matter. Instead, I secretly tended for patrons in the backroom and learned a ton from just the few that took up my offer.

First: People who heard their song had varying reactions. Some were overcome with grief while others cried tears of joy, there were even some times when they claimed that my music had been a life-changing experience. Hearing the music of one's soul affected people differently.

Second: The style of song was not unique from person to person but the notes used and the exact composition varied wildly. I only encountered one case of similar songs so far and there was no relationship between the two. One was an older woman that was built like a solid slab of stone and the other was a young woman from fleur that popped in from time to time. Both of them had the same bouncy beat with bursts of rapidly changing notes but every other thing that could be changed was. The two songs gave off wholly different feelings, one of excitement and triumph while the other was a clashing mess of unharmonious notes.

Third: I was right, no one knew the true purpose of my songs. All it took was a little chat where I got to know them and that was enough for people to believe that I created a song just for them. Not everyone left with a happy face but they all felt satisfied with the service.

Finally: The forbidden note that I couldn't sing with my father's sword wasn't the same as everyone else's. There was always a note that I couldn't pass, for some people it was a low note and for others it was high. If I let myself be carried along with the song I noticed that my voice never came close to each person's forbidden note. No matter how quiet a blade's wordless song was, I couldn't break past the unnatural barrier.

It wasn't wise but I even tested Alex again and I learned that I had zero self-control. I needed to stop almost as soon as I began when I realised how quickly my will was quashed. Tending for Alex was an almost suicidal task, which also made him a valuable target to overcome. If I could get skilled enough to wrestle control back it would be clear proof that I had improved.

At the end of every day, Hann would come to collect me, so I needed to finish the days tending in advance. I knew that my side project would get back to her eventually but I would cross that bridge when it was necessary. Before heading home sometimes I would visit the farms and try to get the bladeless to open up to me, I wasn't going to force my will onto them but at the very least I wanted to understand them. To my dismay no one warmed up to me, there were a few that looked like they had something to say but the constant supervision of the guards made them remain silent. I still didn't know what happened to the old people or the infirm of the slums, as time passed I realised that it wasn't just the slums.

The average age of the whole city was younger than expected, the oldest man that I had seen was the administrator of house Smythe. All of the men and women at work appeared to be anywhere from my age to the late thirties. I hadn't seen anyone that approached the head priest's age even among the members of the church in Crakston. The clergy were all inexperienced and I was told that the head priest of this city was barely twenty years old. At first, I could justify my concerns. Maybe old people didn't go out much or perhaps they were more likely to die from the hard-living that many were subjected to but even still I found their absence unnerving.

All went well for a month and my little business grew in popularity, I would see anywhere from six to ten customers a day. Some enjoyed the novelty of my Readorium, while others liked the quiet seclusion. It was the dawn of a new day and I was getting ready to leave for work. I had simple pants and shirts but I preferred to wear my dresses, linen trousers felt so restrictive and the stitching on shirts was scratchy. Hann was waiting by the door like usual, ready to lead me to the Readorium. I tried to leave but she blocked my way and said,

"We need to talk for a bit."

My heart froze as I wondered if I had been found out and what she would do next. Hann noticed my concern and put on a placating smile while patting my head.

"Calm down Jo. It's nothing that bad but it is serious so listen well. I'm going to be gone for a couple of weeks, something urgent has cropped up and I need to deal with it immediately. I'm putting a lot of trust in you, please keep out of trouble while I'm gone. There will be plenty of salted–"

"Hold on! Where are you going, what's happening?"

Hann never just trusted me, for her to decide that leaving me alone was the only course of action meant something was wrong.

"Calm down, everything is fine, really. This is your moment to prove your maturity, if you can keep your nose clean until I get back then I promise I'll start trusting you more."

I felt the hard pit of guilt forming in my stomach, I was already doing things that I knew I shouldn't. Hann was finally ready to start seeing me as an adult, meanwhile, I was still doing whatever I wanted with little to no regard for how much she has helped me. Why was I like this? I always thought of myself as particularly mature but Hann's announcement made me realise how wrong I was. I was still a child at heart. I was so far from the starting line of adulthood that I didn't even realise how distant it was until I saw it come into view just over the horizon.

But I was too deep into the lie to back out now. Hann thought that I was finally maturing so I couldn't tell her about my singing side service. If I told Hann that I had gone behind her back then I felt like I would lose her trust forever. The patrons who used my service were avid supporters. If I suddenly stopped, I would have to come up with a reason why, I would need to come up with an excuse that no one would accidentally bring up in front of Hann. Keeping the lie rolling was the only thing I could think to do. I would say that I was feeling shy and ask people to stop telling others about my singing. I just bid her a safe trip and wallowed in the hole I dug for myself.

I could cover this up, I knew I could.