2
THE VIOLIN
The instrument was passable, but not of the finest quality. When first he placed it to his shoulder and let the bow caress its strings, the sound was halfway between a dying man’s groan and the screech of a cat in heat. Estevar’s father had always been disappointed in his son’s failure to take his music lessons seriously.
‘How can this possibly work?’ Viscount Cajoulac asked, holding his palms against his ears as he stood alongside his three advisors and the two dozen chanting priests. None of them appeared impressed by Estevar’s musical skills.
‘It is a simple matter of reason, my Lord,’ he replied, drawing the bow against the strings a second time. The result was better. Somewhat.
The ballroom’s long oval shape and its supporting columns created wonderfully complex reve
