A Gentle Orchestra

Azu and the others' orchestra had begun.

The first piece had a slow tempo, with the string section of Azu and Anatia leading the way while the energy gradually built.

Princess Yupe harmonized along with them.

Azu's playing was a little rough around the edges, but Anatia compensated by playing with greater intensity, and combined with Princess Yupe's commanding vocal presence, it went unnoticed.

Princess Yupe was impressive, as expected. Her stage presence was far from amateurish.

She moved her body in time with the dynamics of her voice, putting on a real performance.

After the piece's excitement built to its peak and a brief gap opened, Princess Yupe's voice grew even louder as the instruments pulled back.

The tune changed, and Princess Yupe's singing spread across the entire central plaza.

… A live performance could be this powerful.

The way the sound pierced through your entire body left everyone stunned.

A voice that overwhelmed everything.

Her voice stretched, one might say.

She held the final note for what seemed impossibly long, and the instant her voice cut off, she swept her right hand from left to right and closed it into a fist.

In perfect sync, the instruments stopped dead.

Everything fell into absolute silence.

After a quiet so deep you could almost hear breathing, thunderous applause erupted.

With this many spectators, the sound was immense.

Having basked in the ovation, Princess Yupe responded with a curtsy and spoke.

"Thank you, everyone. Judging by this reaction, I'd say the opening number was a success. We've prepared plenty of fun songs so that even those of you who don't usually listen to music can enjoy yourselves. I won't let you get bored, so stay until the very end."

She was a born star.

She shone far brighter here than she ever had as royalty, and she looked like she was having the time of her life.

Orleans struck the xylophone in a lively rhythm, and Alexia matched it with a brisk piano accompaniment.

True to the promise, the next piece was bright and up-tempo.

It had a cheerfulness that made you want to move your body just from listening.

Between passages, Elza would interject playfully with her trumpet, adding a comical touch.

And she didn't just play; she swayed her body, riding the rhythm as she did.

Laughter broke out here and there.

People who'd been dazed after the first piece gradually began moving and bobbing along to the rhythm, enjoying themselves.

Orchestras typically conjured images of audiences sitting still and listening in rigid formality, but this event was meant as a reprieve from daily hardships.

Enjoying it freely was the right call.

When that piece ended, Finn's flute began a solo.

In the early days, she couldn't even produce a proper note, but now a beautiful melody resonated through the air.

It was without question the result of relentless practice.

Not for the purpose of killing, but for the purpose of bringing joy.

Only the flute's voice echoed, yet its rhythm alone conjured the image of a cat dancing about in a cramped space.

Once she finished, the others joined in and played the same piece together.

It became instantly more lavish.

During the songs she wasn't singing, Princess Yupe held a tambourine and joined in with that.

She was determined to participate in every single piece, it seemed.

The audience drifted between the food stalls, found comfortable spots to sit, and listened to Azu and the others play.

Just for now, they could forget their troubles and let their hearts feel full.

During one piece, Princess Yupe clapped her hands above her head in time with the rhythm.

She first encouraged the small children to do the same.

Before long, the people around them began copying the motion, keeping beat, and it spread through the entire crowd.

When you joined in like that, it felt like you were part of the performance, and somehow, that was a happy feeling.

"This might be the most unified I've ever seen humans. Even armies are more disorganized than this."

Evalin's take was a bit off the mark for a concert review, but I agreed with the sentiment.

Getting this many people to synchronize was no easy feat.

"Yupe-neesan has always loved this kind of crowd work and been good at it. Agitating, or… making everyone around her an ally on the spot. It was her go-to move whenever she wanted to get her way, but I didn't think it went this far."

"It must be talent. It seems hard to acquire after the fact."

"If Father had died and Yupe-neesan had gone after the throne in perfect health without those burns, I might not have won."

"In that case, I wouldn't be here helping Your Majesty either. Though at the time, Princess Yupe was colluding with the Secretary of Military Affairs, who was connected to the Church of the Sun God, so it would have been the worst possible outcome."

"A civil war would have broken out, literally. By the way, neither I nor Anatia-neesan have any intention of letting someone as useful as you go, so your place beneath me isn't changing."

"I'll take that as a most gracious honor."

When Princess Yupe's crowd participation segment ended, a cool-down period began as Elza started a trumpet solo.

Unlike the uplifting pieces before it, this one carried a gentle melancholy about it.

You could only sit and listen.

Elza's trumpet seemed to seep deep into the heart.

Time flew by while listening to the music.

Three hours had already passed since the concert began.

It was nearing its end.

Amid all this, a piece featuring Azu began.

Technically Anatia was also playing, but she was handling the supporting harmony to let Azu's harp shine.

Azu's nerves had eased as she played, and she was performing with much more freedom and confidence.

But midway through the piece, one of her harp strings suddenly snapped.

Azu's hands froze instinctively.

However, Anatia bridged the gap with her violin, keeping the piece going without interruption all the way to the end.

Anatia smiled at Azu, and Azu bowed her head in thanks.

She immediately began restringing the harp with a spare.

When she first came to our house, she'd been bad at asserting herself, the type who waited to be told what to do.

Azu really had grown…

I'd have to thank Anatia later.

Just then, a soldier knocked and entered the room.

He wasn't supposed to come unless something had happened. Had something come up?