45

"Have you been with the company long?"

"Oof…Nigh eighteen year?" Joan says with a frown. Gilbert nods confirmation.

"T'weren't much of a company to speak of in the early days. Just us, Millicent, and Timshel. The Duke kept a fair sober court."

"Millicent be th'orator," Gilbert elaborates as he tunes his strings. "Fine voice."

"And Timshel been the fool quite some time. Afore us, even."

A few moments pass with the sounds of their scales and scattered melodies. "What are we going to do today, you think?" you go on.

"Well, if Joan and I stay in tune, that's a bonny day for us," Gilbert grins.

"Speak for yourself, twiddler," she says, giving his strings a twang. She leans a bit closer to you and lowers her voice. "Honest truth, all we're doin' of late is try to wrap our heads about you lot."

You blink and point at your own chest.

"The company was four a fortnight ago, same four of us been here near a score of years. Now, countin' you, quick as a quip we're nine."

"Zounds—more than double."

"Aye. Malodoro's idea." Joan sighs. "So afore our whole merry band goes up in front of His Grace, we need to figure how to play nice together."

"Don't matter how many 'round me, the lute strums the same," Gilbert says with a shrug.

Onward