Resonance of Angels [Forum Challenge: Quess]

Zsongrill was in celebration with the new alliance with Hnestor being formalized with signatures and a grand feast. Already there were whispers of the potential of a march into Dulfwyn to set Raegnold Esdale. Confidence and patriotism to the Ealdorman Esdale was at an all time high, the festivities were ostentatious to be considered a coronation. A parade through the streets of Ysdrin welcomed Ealdorman Sigmund Gleirscher of Hnestor and his family before they were entertained by the finest performers in Zsongrill. Lastly, fine dining in the Esdale estate with live music from a small group of minstrels to supply some mood before the dinner was served.

Roasted pheasant and rotisserie pig were offered along with the best wine and ale in the city. Yet for all of this, Sigmund seemed more annoyed than pleased with all the pomp. While a supporter of Raegnold, he were beginning to have doubts if such things were going to be commonplace. The wastefulness of it all, despite the family revelling in it like kings and queens themselves. Sigmund were a shrewd man and it was grating on him and his confidence wavering. Raegnold was one to appreciate the fine things as well, but the noise and extravagance was a little much for him, but he'd listened to the advisers who assured that it was necessary to win the hearts of not only the Gleirscher's but the morale of the people.

Serendipity from the hands of a girl. Quess Esdale, Raegnold's youngest, had wandered from the jabbering and clinking plates of the tables to the curious set of abandoned instruments in the corner. The minstrels had left once the dinner was served per instructions, to let the conversations take place in peace. The curiosity of the young lass had her staring over each of the musical devices in turn, but it was the proud full-standing harp that drew her attention the most. A single pluck of the low string somehow escaping the awareness of the room save. It was of no concern to Quess though whether they did or not. She launched a dimpled smile at the reverberation under her fingers, tickling them.

Caution thrown to the wind, irreverent or the festivities, the girl began to pluck here and there to a rhythm in her head, not a song she knew nor any structure in mind. Simply art created from the flutter under her fingers. While annoyed expressions appeared from some of the guests, even harsher one's when some saw who the player was, Sigmund was quite the opposite. Oblivious to the player or to the scene, he lifted his head with a thoughtful grin, turning to Raegnold with whole-hearted seriousness. "What a gorgeous song. Do you know the name of it?" Sigmund's eldest son, brow furrowed, caught his attention with a gentle tug directed his father toward the child with her eyes closed and head bowed, raking unskilled fingers against the strings in obviously random but intentional motions. Not merely someone strumming mindlessly, but someone chasing after something specific, even if they didn't know what. But the agitation wasn't there, only more amusement, his hand outstretching to a servant who was scampering to retrieve the girl, "Stay your hand, madame. Let the girl play."

And so they did. For the course of several minutes, Sigmund were leaned against the back of his chair with a moustached smile creasing his lips and eyes closed. Likewise, Raegnold had barely removed his attention from her during her impromptu concert, heedless of the hateful scowls launched at the same target from the wife beside him.

Something about the happy accident had changed Sigmund's mood and the treaty was signed as planned, congratulating him on his daughter's talent. Raegnold never clarified the mistake. While Quess was chastised for it verbally, she were never truly punished, much to the elder sisters' chagrin at the time. The youngest always seemed to get away with more in their eyes, though at the same time, was always a bit less of a problem either. Always prim and proper save for the moments of wanderment that lead her into such incidents.

But the event had sparked something in Raegnold. Something far more than what was first perceived. There was a nostalgia, a reminder of days passed. And a new furthered appreciation for the daughter that merged the two dangerously together.

Little time at all had passed after the Gleirschers returned home and business as usual began again, though everything had changed. The whispers of Esdale on the throne could easily become a warcry within the year if preparations went well. And then there was Quess. He wasn't able to let that event go for more reasons than he understood at the time. He rushed the production of an instrument for her, rushed but required perfection.

The harp was a gorgeous masterpiece, no expense spared on the quality from the brass fittings, to the quality strings, to the luscious find of solid wood with exquisite carving of a winged angel on the crown like it were a guide on the bow of a great royal vessel. It was a giant in comparison to its new owner, but that only made it all the more impressive to the starry eyed child.

"Is this for me?" expressive and overwhelmed, she queried her doubts aloud, "I cannot possibly play this... I do not truly know how."

"Nonsense." He smiled proudly at her, pressing her between shoulders toward the instrument "If angels should sing to me, you should lead their voices, Quess. Just play what you feel."

And so she did, nervously, fearful she would disappoint him in comparison to her accidental composition in the dining hall. Fingers missed strings as she fought them, wincing and gritting teeth until the boisterous laughter broke through the noise, his arms wrapping around her waist and a kiss to the top of her head, "I said play, not bang on it. You're playing the wrong feelings. Smile, Quess." With a nudge, he released her to the harp once more. Her eyes closed and an apprehensive smile flicked across her lips, and though it took a moment to let go of those butterflies, soon she were playing with the same unorthodox artistic ear she had before.

Tradition was then born. At least twice a week, Raegnold set aside time to retire to a secondary study where her harp were kept and she would play for him. But this were merely the beginning of something more.