Vienna, Austria, 1798

November 27th, 10:09 AM

The birds chirping outside the window of my room gave me a sense of tranquility before my weekly cello lesson. As a musician, I couldn't help but decipher the rhythm of their tune. I hummed it as I dragged my bow across the small block of rosin in my hand, the white dust floating into the air. After brushing some of the rosin off my gown, I took a deep breath in front of my vanity mirror. The surface of the vanity itself was hidden by my collection of cello pieces, and then my makeup and jewelry.

I spent some time studying my reflection in the mirror. Not only did I focus on my emerald eyes and my brown hair braided into a bun, but I reflected on the joy my lessons gave me. I knew it wasn't possible for a young lady like me to pursue a career in music, but playing cello gave me utter bliss. Mother enrolled me with a private instructor when I was 5 years old as a hobby, but it turned into my sole passion in life. Before I knew it, I was begging to attend every symphony concert I heard of, and I even tried composing some cello pieces of my own. There was simply an incredible joy in my heart when I played and heard music, as if the heavens were singing to me, pulling me towards countless melodies. I wished to dedicate my life to that feeling.

I was learning Handel's Sonata for Two Cellos, now one of my favorite pieces to play. My instructor, Herr Adler, was a very skilled man who often spoke of his acquaintance with Joseph Haydn himself. Although sometimes strict in his teaching, it gave me great pleasure to learn from him. He understood my passion for music, and therefore was the only other musician I could ever converse with. I would listen to him lecture about his experience in music for hours if I had the time.

"Daphne! Herr Adler is here!" my mother called from downstairs.

"I shall be there soon!" I replied.

With a sigh, I gathered my music books in one hand and my cello in the other and went downstairs to my lesson.

Mother looked at me distastefully as I made my way down the wooden staircase. At first I wondered why, but she said so before I could ask.

"Oh, Daphne, don't you have a nicer dress to wear for the lesson?"

I looked down at my beige dress, simple for my social status, which of course bothered my mother.

"Forgive me, I hadn't the time to prepare a better wardrobe for today. Nonetheless, I see no need in changing and cutting into Herr Adler's time," I replied, carefree.

My instructor didn't seem to mind, and neither did I, for fancy corsets and shiny jewelry didn't improve my tonality, despite how fun they were to wear.

As soon as Mother went to the other room, I turned to him and gave a small curtsy.

"Good afternoon, Herr Adler," I greeted.

He made a small bow in return and sat down to observe my playing.

The bliss that came from playing entered my heart as soon as I set the instrument between my legs and placed my bow on the D string, careful not to be too close nor too far from the bridge.

First were scales. They weren't the most fun to play, but they certainly were beneficial. Luckily for me, we didn't spend an arduously long time on them. After some scales and arpeggios, it was time to play the Handel piece I had practiced the past week.

I adjusted my posture, took in a deep breath, and began to play.

From the very first pull of the bow, I was captivated by the sound of my beloved cello. Naturally, there was the occasional slip of the finger, or unintended bounce of the bow, but I stayed focused on the vibrations that sent my heart racing and the changes in dynamics as the piece went on. A smile graced my lips as I became immersed in the voice of my instrument, so boldly gentle. Then, mental notes raced in my mind as I reached the sudden increase in tempo of the first movement. I had to make sure my spiccato bow wasn't hesitant, that the sixteenth notes were clear, that the notes in higher positions were just as confident as those in first position, and that I didn't slow down. The last few phrases filled me with adrenaline until I heard the satisfying ring of the last note of the movement.

I was pleased to see Herr Adler's warm smile. I found his positive reinforcement beneficial to my learning.

"That was very good, Daphne. I'm so pleased to see you enjoying this piece. It's most certainly one of my favorites for the cello. Your dynamic contrast is coming along splendidly, as well as that fast passage towards the end. Now, I'm wondering if it would be better for you to play the spiccato sections in the lower part of your bow rather than the upper half. Would you care to try it?"

I nodded and played a few measures of spiccato using the lower half of the bow as Herr Adler said. I felt far better control and noticed how well it suited the piece.

"Exactly right," he said, "I would like you to practice that part using the feedback I just gave you for this week."

The rest of the lesson was much of the same process. We went over some of the other flaws in my playing, reviewed some shifting exercises, and ended the lesson with some historical background about the Handel piece.

Still humming the bird's tune from that morning, I made my way into the dining room, where Mother was reading Gulliver's Travels. I found it strange of her to avoid greeting me after my lesson, and assumed she was upset.

"What is it now, Mother?"

"When are you going to realize that music isn't a suitable career for a young lady like you?" she asked passive-aggressively.

"Daphne, I sat here listening to you play and became angered with myself for starting your lessons in the first place. It's no matter if your skill is great. Herr Leitner would never be able to support that dream of yours."

I looked up when she spoke of him, a glare in my eyes. Philip Leitner was my fiancé-to-be. My mother wanted me to marry him, a wealthy businessman, in order to keep my social status. It was insulting to think she cared more about what Herr Leitner could afford rather than my own wishes.

"You know I was opposed to marrying him in the first place. Besides, he shan't have anything to support. I would be happy to take in pupils of my own and make money that way, if that is what you're worried about. I only wish to dedicate my life to music."

"Musicians are servants, dear. They hardly get paid well. Only those who serve emperors and kings make a steady career out of it, but unfortunately for you, no one of such status would have a woman as his court composer."

"With all due respect, none of that will stop me from at least teaching a few children eventually. I don't see any reason for me to quit entirely."

"And where will you find the time to care for your own children? You'll be having them, of course. Your time will be spent caring for them and your house. I'll be informing Herr Adler that you've come to a suitable age to marry, and he shan't come to instruct you any longer."

"Mother, please-"

"That is the last I will say of this matter."

Imagining a life without music was enough to make my heart ache. With the knowledge I wouldn't be able to do anything to change Mother's mind, I decided to go to my room in order to finish some more of my compositions. I was halfway up the stairs when I heard her speak again.

"Herr Leitner is coming for dinner. You shall better be in a nicer dress by the time he arrives."

"Yes, Mother."

"I'm going to a game of chess with your aunt. I shan't take long, and please do make yourself presentable."

"Yes, Mother," I said in a cold tone before I went back up to my room.

About five minutes had passed when I heard a knock at my door.

"I'm quite busy!" I shouted

"Forgive me, Daphne, it's Rebecca. May I come in?"

Rebecca was a maid in my household, a young woman about my age with blonde hair always in a bun. She was very kind, and sometimes understood me more than anyone else. I comforted her whenever my mother was too harsh, and she did the same for me. She walked into my room with a soft smile.

"Would you like me to make you some tea?" she asked.

"That would be lovely. Thank you, I would like chamomile please."

"Of course, Daphne. I also wanted to speak to you about the conversation you had with your mother. I really do regret that you won't be able to pursue music any further. Your playing sounded extraordinary today."

"I'm pleased to hear you enjoyed it."

I sighed.

"Alas, you know my mother. She has her expectations, but I know she only wants what is best for me. I only wish she could see that while marrying Herr Leitner may mean safety for my financial future, my music is the key to a blissful future. I'm not in love with him, you know that. I hope to fall in love with him in order to make the marriage better, but I can't force myself to do such a thing either. My love for music comes rather effortlessly. Perhaps, with time, Mother will see what we do."

We exchanged a smile, and she went at last to prepare my tea. I got back to composing.

A few minutes later, I heard a crash outside. Afraid that it was my mother and that she was injured, I set my quill down and hurried outside to see what the fuss was about.

Our neighbour's front yard garden was damaged from a carriage accident. In the midst of all the dirt and dust, I saw the silhouette of those who were in the carriage and perhaps the person they crashed into. Once they became clearer, I realized that none of the passengers was Mother, but next to them, unconscious, was a young man with orange hair, light brown freckles across his cheekbones, and natural redness on his cheeks. He was wearing the strangest wardrobe I had ever seen.