Let Us Begin...

Well, in my earlier years I was not much different than I am now. I was pianist, and a favorite of the Queen Mum. Of corse, those that I played for were not familiar with my other side. They only knew me as the dashing pianist at any and all of the grandest gatherings of the upper class. At this type of party, mind you, the invitation was all in your family tree. My father was a duke, and so I had little trouble with the technicalities involved to get an invitation and in fact was expected to show. Now, while these little things were fun, the real enjoyment always came after the party. After a full night of "Won't you play something for us Nigel?" and then providing them with more than what was expected I had an entire room in wonder. I must admit that the attention was always the best part of it, and that even now I do like to show off a bit for old times sake. However, as I've said, the real festivites started at the end...

Now I'm a sophisticated man, however sometimes I merely had to get away from it all. Maybe it was just fancy, but at times I believe that my sanity counted on it. Besides, I didn't want to become one of those hob-nob, snub nosed aristocrats, I simply had to pass as one. Once from the eyes of any significant audience I was free to be me, which is much more colorful than the grey personalties of the other blue-blooded aristocrats I was surrounded by. The color of my personality, blue blood or not, was and still is red- the color of passion. For that is what drove me and drives me still. But, passion cannot be truely found in the tamed society of the wealthy, its covered and shunned, therefore I looked elsewhere.

The dank, liquor scented dens of thieves and con-artists became a second home. They were places that provided for just about any fancy- drugs, gambling, and sex being the most common. I was there, however, for the excitement that the change of scenery brought me. Fights were a nightly thing, and occasionally I'd get involved... that is if I wasn't too busy at the card tables.

Gambling is something that includes risk, and containing such it naturally gets your heart racing. It’s a fast paced game for the skilled, slick, and strong hearted. Naturally I loved it. The brutes that played made it all the better, take my word on it, the expression on a professional con-man's face when he loses to the 'new little blue blood' is absolutely priceless.

Naturally this all got me into a bit of trouble, alright so a lot of trouble... But I can't say that I wasn't looking for it. Well I could, but then I'd be lying.

My sister found me out, and the dear that she is, she never told a soul. She claimed that it was simply not to destroy my name and drag the family with it, but I knew better. She was just being the big sis, protecting her little brother from the wrath of our parents. I've no doubt that they would have disowned me, and I'm sure that she had the same fear. Our family really couldn't take another slandering. After my sister was widowed, leaving her alone with her daughter, the rumors and slandering could be heard through all of London and even up through sections of York. It had only just recently died down, and now here I was, the straying son spending my time in the worst parts of town with the worst type of people.

To appease my sister I told her that I'd stay away from my hang-outs, and I did- hating it all the way. I spent evenings with the highest of society, speaking to strangers as if they were my best friends. In that kind of life "How are you this evening darling? My! Is that a new gown? You look positively fabulous." really means "You again? And dressed like that? If you do not follow dress code and the proper lines of fashion next time I shall simply have to have you escorted out". Aristocrat is a complicated language...

However, I grinned and bore it as best I could. It was all a lie, every word I spoke to each person I spoke it to. Bold face lies, but they were all too self absorbed to realize this. Flattery hit me from every corner, but every word was as much a lie as the words I myself spoke. I found it far simpler to try and hide among the throngs of people, and occasionally disappear behind the keys of the piano. When all around me social linages were plotted, besmirched and entire wealths sold away who was I to comment? When insecure families slunk through the crowd in search of the right ties to ensure survival and wealth, who was I? Just the handsome, rising pianist positioned behind his instrument, son to a duke with status and holdings that also happened to be single...

I might as well have been thrown to a pack of starving wolves.

I wanted nothing to do with the girls that flocked around my piano. They made requests, and I played them, flirting with the mindless little mess of them to the point where it was making me sick. Could none of them find something better to do besides bother me? I didn't like any of them, they were annoying. Their mothers were just as bad... "Oh Nigel you must come meet my daughter she's such a dear, and would love to hear you play. She'd have come to you, but she's a tad shy, you understand, don't you? Oh I knew you would. Thank you, darling, she'll be so happy to meet you. Yes thats her over there in the green". In English society there are two types of girls 'shy' (Meaning that they were raised and trained to keep quiet. They're meant to be pets and housewives who do what they're told. Some find this wonderful, I find it ridiculous as to have them about is more like having a ghost moving about the house. They're bland, horribly so.) and the 'flighty' (This means that they're more in tuned to gossip, and have had their heads too full of fantasy for their own good. I don't care for that type either. They were brought up to get ‘the one’ who'd earn them a nice title, and fame to flaunt before their sisters. They have a bit more spirit, but it’s a spirit like that of a barracuda). With such limited selection you can see why I, at that point 25, was still a drifter.

I was perfectly capable of holding commitment, but the promise of it held nothing for me. Sure, I could always have gotten a mistress to add the touch that a wife would lack, but what was the point? Simply far too much hassle and female emotions are terribly frightening when fear of loss or lack of recognition starts up. I figured that it was for the best.

Somebody had different plans, and that somebody was Valleen Richmund.

Valleen, how best to describe her? I cannot, but say that she is Valleen. She'd always had good taste, just bad judgement (I think that its obvious enough with how things turned out, but we aren't quite there yet). She wanted a pet and puppet, somebody that could move through society, earn fame and bestow half of it to her. I was an ideal candidate, or so she thought. A pianist, and charmer, fit to become one of her blood. The prince agreed, and so while the night society that I was to enter waited for me I had no idea that it even existed. That quickly changed.

When I first met Valleen she stood out, she wasn't like the others that generally graced social affairs. Her behavior and manner were not so different, I speak of the fact that she was dead. The first words she ever said to me were "Excuse me, but do you play?"

I looked up from the sheet music I was inspecting, smiled and then replied "No".

She looked absolutely puzzled for a moment, blinked a couple of times and then just sighed. "Oh..." She looked horribly disappointed, so much in fact that I actually felt bad for her. "I won't bother you further then- save but to ask you if you know where I might find somebody that does."

Oh this was too much. Everybody knew perfectly well who I was, yet she did not. I couldn't help but think her either stupid or out of place- poor girl. "Why such a desire for a pianist, mi' lady? What could you possibly be seeking to hear?" I asked with mock sincerity, fighting back my urge to laugh at the situation.

A smile came to her, a sly smile behind its sweetness. It was something I'd later learn to recognize, but that in my mortal innocence I failed to note. "This." She said laying the sheet music before the piano for my eyes. "I want to find someone who can play it with the beauty is so deserves. It is my favorite piece, written for me by an old friend."

"Why then not have your friend play it?"

"I'm afraid that he passed away two winters ago. He had played it once for me but a month before he died, and I have not heard it since. I hear it still so clearly in my mind..." She seemed to be drifting off into sweet memories, and the dreaminess to her expression made me smile. Then she gave a little disappointed sigh and added "If only I could hear it once more with that same beauty. I'm sorry I troubled you..."

"No trouble at all my dear." I said with a smile and a wave as she walked away. I looked over the music she had left there, then peered upward to see her drifting into the crowds...I simply couldn't avoid the temptation. I stretched my fingers and began to play the piece. It was lovely, it really was- but not as lovely as what happened next. She came back, her steps lively and quick with an expression of shock and adoration. She wanted to question me, but didn't dare disrupt my playing- rather, she simply sat nearby and listened to it all the way through. I played it in its entirety, then when it was done slowly lifted my fingers from the keys, turned in my seat to face her and smiled. "It goes something like that, does it?"

"Exactly like that." she purred back at me. "But I must know how you did it as you told me you do not know how to play piano."

"Sudden revelation." I said with a grin. "I must be in the favor of the muses tonight."

"Muses or not, you have my favor, and my thanks."




Thus I met my dearest Valleen....