After bidding the Crystal Empire goodbye, we went back to Canterlot for some much-needed preparations. For one, copies of the finished Requiem must be made, then we had to buy extra chairs and music stands for the orchestra and choir that were coming, and then there was the expense of feeding said orchestra and choir. So the day before the musicians that I invited were due to arrive, I was practically pulling my mane from the stress, trying to make sure that everything was going to run smoothly.
In fact, the night before that I’d been so nervous I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep. How I tossed this way and that on the bed, trying to find peace of mind that didn’t come. Eventually, when I found that sleep still eluded me, I decided to get out of bed and go down to drink something to assist in that. But as I walked out of my bedroom and towards the staircase, I paused as my sensitive ears picked up something. It was the sound of a piano coming from upstairs. The clock said that it was getting close to midnight, and I was curious as to who could be playing at such an hour.
I climbed up the stairs towards the third floor, where the attic and the servants’ quarters were. My ears listened carefully, trying to tell where this new melody was coming from. I was able to locate it coming from one particular door. I tested the doorknob to find that it was unlocked so I carefully undid it until I was able to pry it enough to see, to my surprise, who was playing. It was the maid! There before one of those upright pianos, she was playing with a dark, nocturnal flare.
“Are you worried that that might keep anypony else up?” This made her jump as she reeled around to see my head sticking out.
“You scared me!” she hopped off the piano bench and proceeded to reach a pillow from her bed to throw it at my face. “Don’t ever do that without knocking first!”
“Ow! Sorry I couldn’t sleep.” I rubbed my poor nose as it had absorbed most of the impact. “What are you doing, playing this late? Aren’t you concerned that Wilfred or Sauté is going to come here to complain?”
“Rules say that all music must stop at midnight. And it’s only about fifteen minutes till.”
“Alright, but why? I don’t think I caught on how that you’re musical. Were you practicing?”
She turned away toward the keys. “Not really, I’m just doing some last minute work.”
It was then that I realized a detail that I hadn’t noticed before. On the piano stand, the sheet music was written out while a pencil lay right beneath it. “So besides being a maid,” I said, walking in, “You’re a composer too. Now that’s extraordinary.”
“What? You’ve never met any mares who wrote music?”
“Oh no. My older sister and I used to write sheet music back and forth all the time. Only, she was the only one that I knew of, who did anything like this.” I walked over at the piano to examine the music. “Is it finished?”
“Last night. I’m just playing it out to see if it sounds right.”
“Would you mind if I play this?” I asked. “After all, I could use a little night music.”
This got a laugh out of her while I looked over what she had written, “G minor? Such an emotional key.” And when I started to play, it was just as dramatic as her choice of key. There was more use of the pedals to let the strings from the instrument ring out a different kind of nocturnal atmosphere like walking through a forest path at night. Of course, as I sight-read, I did spot places where she’d made many corrections. Among its atmosphere from the darker register, there was movement as the main theme appeared and disappeared like a phantom before re-emerging once more.
“You really wrote all of this?” I asked her.
“Only when I get the chance to,” she told me. “My brother is thinking of writing music himself, but I just see it as a hobby. I figured that between the two Manedelssohn’s, one of us might make it in the music business.”
“So he composes as well?”
She nodded, “He’s more into the big orchestra stuff, and I prefer the smaller things like a melody for the piano.”
“Huh, did I know that?” I asked myself aloud. “I don’t think I knew that.”
“So what do you think of my Nocturne?”
I stopped playing, “Only confirms to me more of what happened to music since I was gone. It’s become more passionate to the point where the style I write in isn’t needed anymore. Instead, it follows its own rules. Take this, for example, it’s almost embarrassingly private.”
This caught her off guard. “How so?”
“Do you hear the way the petals make the strings reverberate?” I asked. “To me, it is almost like… hearing the echoes of one’s thoughts. It has melancholy, yet the saving grace is the melody which is so simple but powerful at the same time. How long have you been doing this?”
She thought for a moment, “Probably since I was… eleven? Twelve maybe?”
“Now how come you’re working here as a maid for me and not writing more of this?” I questioned, “I mean sure, it could use some refining here and there, but I think that this is good. Not to mention your playing, which is sublime as well.”
“But I can’t exactly live off of music alone,” she replied. “I mean I’ve just moved out of my parents’ house, I need a place to live, a job to buy food, pay rent and all of that. Music is great, but unless you’re mega-successful like yourself, it’s not gonna pay the bills. Sure, getting a job as a maid isn’t exactly my first idea, but what can I do?”
“What are we going to do Wolfie?” I heard the ghost of my wife’s voice in my skull. The mere reminder was enough to droop my ears backward.
“You know that I wasn’t successful, right?” I asked her, watching her face twist in confusion.
“You weren’t?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. I was horrible with money. Still am, I suppose, I mean do you know how many bits I spent at that music festival? I’m glad that Celestia has finally given me financial security; back where I came from, it was a different story. Sure, at one point I was well known in Canterlot. My operas, concertos, and symphonies had given much delight to those who would listen, but they didn’t bring in enough. Constanze had told me over and over how we should be careful of what we spent, or how I should take more than three pupils, or try convincing Salieri to get a better salary from Celestia. But I wanted to live, to show off in fancy clothing, drink excellent wines and purchase the best for us. What can I say?
What’s the point of having a fortune if you can’t spend it and enjoy it? Even if that means you keep collecting debt until the debtors come knocking on your door.”
She tilted her head, “What was she like?”
“Who?”
“Your wife, Constanze, I mean. One of the ponies that you’re going to be memorializing soon…?” She trailed off when she saw the pained expression on my face. “Sorry I asked.”
There was a silence between us until I asked, “How old are you?” She replied that she was twenty-two. “And have you ever fallen in love with somepony before?”
“Yeah, back in high school some years back. Didn’t end well though,” she quickly added. “Why do you ask?”
“But have you ever fallen in love with a pony that had lasted?” My friend told me that she hadn’t. “When I met Constanze, I was in love with her sister, an opera singer; however, I quickly found out that she was using me to get famous. Constanze, however, was different. Sure, she wasn’t exactly ugly or beautiful, but when we first met, I reckoned her first because frankly, she was more talented than her sister.”
“So what made her so special?”
My hooves drifted toward the keyboard. “Everything,” I replied as an Andante came to mind. “While her sister had the voice of an angel, she had one of a goddess. Despite being a mare, she was the only one outside of my family with whom I could have a real conversation, from the works of Buch to the latest radical novels. In fact, as soon as we were married she insisted on taking me to the salons so she too could discuss the latest… whatever of the day. Well, that, and she had a flank to make Celestia jealous.”
This made my friend turn red, “What, really?”
I giggled. “I saw it myself that she was! Her eyes were burning with envy as she stared at Constanze’s posterior… What?”
The mare said, “Are you sure that it was jealousy?”
“She had a frown on her face, what more could you want?”
She rolled her eyes. “So back to the subject of your wife, what was else was she like?”
“Well… in hindsight, she was right about how money should have been spent. I remember how disappointed she was in me for having to keep asking friends to borrow bits so that we could live. Yet, she nevertheless stayed with me. I’m thankful for that, because more times than not, she was my muse.” I paused for a moment to listen to what I was playing, “Even this too was inspired by her. I wrote this for a sonata once, where I… I guess I immortalized her tenderness here. As well as many of her qualities that came from her kindness: her sense of humor, her sensibility married with intelligence, and absolute beauty which time could not conquer.”
My friend placed a hoof over my shoulder and showed me a tender smile, “Nopony talks like that anymore. But that was beautiful.”
“I miss her,” I told her plainly. “Of course, I miss a lot of ponies, but her most of all.”
“You know, I think that you going out of your way to get a whole orchestra and choir to perform it for them is endearingly touching. I wish that I had a coltfriend with as much dedication as you have.”
“Thank you for your sympathy…” I chuckled, “My, how embarrassing, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Call me Fan. It’s easier to remember.”
“Fair enough,”
“Excuse me,” a new voice shattered the moment and I stopped playing to find Wilfred poking his head through the door. “It’s already past midnight, and some of us would like to go to sleep.”
Fan immediately stood up, “Sorry sir. I was talking with Wolfgang and-”
My butler lifted a hoof to silence her, “Yes, I heard. But rules are rules, go to bed Ms. Manedelssohn.” She bowed as he pulled me out of her room. “So is there any reason why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”
“I was going to fetch myself a drink when I heard her playing.” I told him, “Trust me, if I were planning on doing something else to Fan, you’d be hearing grunting by now.”
He facehoofed, “I’m going to ignore that comment. So can I get you your drink while you go to bed?”
Before I could reply, I yawned, “Do you know something that would send me straight to sleep?”
My butler told me that he knew what might help and told me to return to my chambers. Minutes later, he came to my room with a tray and a shot of simmering milk. I remembered being confused at first as I didn’t see how that would get me to sleep. But one gulp later, as I asked if something was supposed to happen, I fell asleep.