Page 79 of Songs and Spun Gold
“We’ll skip to measure 15, since that’s where Cesar comes in.” He flipped through the book in his hand, looking at it as he strode to one of the music stands. “Are you ready?”
She found the line withCesarnext to it, and she saw numbers across the top of the page, but she didn’t see the number fifteen. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have known what to do with it.
“Katy?” He looked over the top of his book. “Is something wrong? Do you not know the notes on the piano?”
Twisting her hands in her lap, she turned her eyes to the courtyard outside the window and admitted, “I don’t know how to read music. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I should have thought of that. It would be more surprising if youdidknow.”
“Is there another way that I can help?” she asked hesitantly.
He was already heading back toward her. Gesturing to her to scoot over, he settled himself on the bench next to her. It creaked a little under their joint weight but fell silent once the prince stopped moving. He smiled and asked, “Would you like to learn?”
She gave a little laugh and tried to ignore the fact that his hip was pressed up against hers on the narrow bench. “You’re going to teach me?”
“Why not?” He reached across her to point to a spot on the page. Katy leaned back a little, but his side still brushed against her. “This symbol at the beginning of each staff – oh, the group of five lines is a staff, by the way – is the clef. That tells you what the names of the lines and spaces are.”
“Names?”
“Of the notes, so you know which key to play on the piano. The bottom line on this clef is G, and it corresponds to thisone.” Leaning across her, he pressed a key. “Then the space above it is A, the line B…” He continued up the staff, playing each note as he went.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if we switched places?” Katy suggested. With the prince out of the way, she was able to sit straight again, but she had a feeling he would be returning.
“Then I would be bumping you with my elbow,” he said, demonstrating by playing some notes that were in front of him.
Smothering a grin at his exaggerated motions, she asked, “Why not use your left hand, instead?”
His eyes darted from side to side before he put his mouth near her ear and stage-whispered, “Because I’m a dunce with my left hand.”
The hair above her ear fluttered in the light breeze of his breath. It sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, but she restrained the urge to shrink away. Whatever the prince was up to, he didn’t need the ego boost of believing that he had affected her.
He already had enough of that from her frequent blushes.
Straightening, he continued, “If my left hand were actually useful at the piano, I would use it from here, and we would be much more comfortable. See?” So saying, he snaked his left arm behind her and settled his hand on the keys. “Isn’t that better?”
“You really don’t have any sense of propriety, do you?” Katy rolled her eyes, plucking his hand off the piano and attempting to draw his arm over her head even as he squeezed her closer. When he was in a playful mood, he was impossible.
“I’m a prince. I’m the definition of propriety,” he loftily replied. He relaxed his arm, and she finally pried it off her side, placing it back at his side where it belonged.
Once she had him back on track, they spent some time drilling the names of the notes on the bass clef and their positions on the piano. Axel rehearsed from his spot next to hersince she was still learning. It was marvelous to listen to him sing, even when he faltered over an unfamiliar passage or squawked a note he wasn’t prepared for. The polished music at the theater, when he performed songs he must have sung a hundred times, was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but watching him sing something for the first time had its own charm. His intense focus as he learned the part, his hand waving for purposes unknown to her, the way he would stop and hum a few notes quietly before either continuing on or requesting she play a section: she could stay here all day.
“Do you sing, Katy?”
The question took her by surprise. Giving him a small smile, she ran her fingers lightly over the piano keys. “A little. Nothing like you.”
“I didn’t sing like this when I started. It’s taken a lot of work.” He set his right elbow on the top of the piano and propped his head on his fist, turning toward her without crowding her like he had earlier. “Will you sing something for me?”
“I don’t—”
“Please.”
His warm brown eyes were so earnest, so hopeful. She interlaced her fingers and buried her hands in her lap. “As long as your ears won’t mind.” Axel smiled encouragingly at her. Taking a deep breath, she began shakily,
“If I spoke to you,
Would you remember me?
Would you know my twinkling eye?”
