Chapter 18 #2
Mira stayed put, hands folded so tightly on the table in front of her that her knuckles began to hurt, and waited.
At some point, she managed to order a glass of mead, the signature drink of the region, for courage more than enjoyment tonight.
Eventually, the lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd.
Cassia still wasn’t back when a moment later, Emilia climbed on the makeshift stage.
“Hey! Hello! Welcome to Town Talent Night!” She smiled widely as she looked around the crowded inn.
“It’s lovely to see so many of you back!
We have some first-timers in the audience and on stage today, so I hope you all will be on your best behaviour.
If you’re curious about tonight’s performances, you can take a peek at the list on the bar counter.
And now, without further ado, enjoy the show! ”
She jumped off, and immediately Penelope, Harper’s partner, took her place, while somewhere behind the bar, a music box started playing a jaunty tune. Penelope was holding a basket full of colourful balls and rings that she put off to the side.
“So, I’ve picked up a new hobby these past few weeks…” She picked up a set of balls and posed. “Let’s see how many of these I can work, shall we?”
It didn’t take long for Mira to find herself rather engrossed in the show, despite the quaintness of it all.
Nobody here was a professional at anything, that much became clear very quickly.
But they all made up for it with enthusiasm.
Penelope with her juggling; Kian’s daughter who was showing off some pictures she had drawn; the Atas, with Sabir playing an unfamiliar kind of flute and Inan dancing to it; the elderly butcher who sometimes had an afternoon beer with Hamish showed off the impressive speed at which he could carve a rabbit figurine from a block of wood; eventually Cassia and her aria, a little wobbly in pitch and perhaps a little underserved by being accompanied only by a single violin.
Every one of them seemed right at home on that stage, and the audience rewarded them all with thunderous applause, hearty laughter, and the occasional encouraging shout.
It was almost enough to dispel Mira’s anxiety. Almost.
When Emilia, true to her word, announced her and her “dramatic presentation of a poem”, Mira’s heart dropped somewhere in the general direction of her knees. Well. She had promised, and she was a woman of her word.
She clambered up on the platform, hoping that her face wasn’t as red as it felt.
The paper had stopped crinkling, largely because her palms had gotten unusually sweaty.
It was ridiculous. She’d been to many readings, it had never looked this difficult.
If everyone under the sun could do this, so could she!
She stepped up to the microphone, cleared her throat, and began to read.
In spring’s lush green, the thorns so sharp -
A flower blooms…
Having the poem have three parts had, in hindsight, been a bit of a mistake.
Halfway through, Mira’s mouth had gone dry, and finishing it without sounding like a croaky old crone had been a challenge.
When Mira was done, she felt a little light-headed, staring out at the crowd wide-eyed. They were going to laugh. Oh, she knew-
There was the loudest whoop, coming from the corner where Cassia and her dress took up half a table, and then applause roared through the inn.
Faintly, Mira heard someone’s declaration that it was the best poem they’d ever heard, which was a statement she would ordinarily have called into question.
Now, though, she just ducked her head, waited a few more moments to be polite, then retreated off the stage and back to her table.
Which was now occupied.
“Yoni!”
Yoni smiled faintly. “That was nice. I liked the bit about the rain.”
Mira blinked owlishly. “You did.”
“It was a very nice poem,” Yoni said quickly. “Very… sentimental.”
Yes, that it was. On purpose, though Mira refused to mention that. It might lead to more questions, and having to explain to Yoni that the poem was, in a manner of speaking, about her, while not outright saying that it was…
“I was hoping for an emotional reaction,” Mira agreed. She took a deep breath, trying not to sound like she was changing the subject on purpose. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I was late. Marigold got stuck behind the-” She sighed and shook her head. “Never mind. Cassia said the seat was free.” She suddenly seemed a little dubious. “If you are sitting with someone-”
“No! No, I’m not.”
Belatedly, Mira realised that she was still standing, and hurried to sit back down while the next performer took the stage, two teenagers wearing clothes they had clearly pilfered from their parents’ closets. Emilia announced ‘a creative dialogue’ and left the stage to them.
“I’m just surprised to see you, is all,” she said, voice low so as to not disturb the teenagers. “I didn’t know you came to watch these.”
“Occasionally,” Yoni replied. “It’s… good to get out of the house sometimes.”
Mira chuckled. “Isn’t it.” She nodded at the stage. “Were you going to perform?”
Yoni’s eyes went wide. “Absolutely not! I wouldn’t even know what to do.”
“Neither did I,” Mira muttered, “which didn’t seem to be a problem.”
“Perhaps,” Yoni suggested, “you are simply a bit of a pushover.”
“Wh-” Someone at the neighbouring table shushed them, and Mira ducked her head and lowered her voice. “I am not! I just… didn’t want to disappoint Cassia.”
Yoni raised an eyebrow and mouthed ‘pushover’ at her. Mira rolled her eyes, feeling a lot more grounded all of a sudden.
“Am not,” she whispered back. “Should I tell Cassia you promised her a funny dance for the next show?”
Now Yoni looked like a spooked deer. “You wouldn’t.”
“Or would I?”
Yoni huffed. “If you keep your mouth shut, I’ll buy your next drink.”
“Mhmm.” Mira pretended to think – while trying not to feel like that sounded a little like a certain kind of invitation.
Which she wouldn’t mind. She just wasn’t sure if Yoni would.
“All right.” She hoped her smile struck a balance between playful and happy – happy that she’d said yes, happy that Yoni had come, and happy that, yes, maybe this was going somewhere, and no, Mira didn’t mind at all. “We have a deal.”