Chapter 84
When the provisional 'Beethoven Orchestra' was writhing in the throes of the musical culture shock it encountered for the first time,
all the empire's pianists were beaming at the sudden surge in student inquiries,
- If I practice for a year, can I play Will-o'-the-wisp?
- ...Even for me, who's been at it for twenty years, it's hard...?
- Waaaah, teacher's weak.
As they were about to topple over, clutching the backs of their necks at such outrageously rude questions,
Kim Yul and Historié were enjoying afternoon tea in their newly purchased mansion.
“...I think Boseong green tea is a little better.”
“Comparing the quintessence of modern science with this world's tea culture is a bit much, isn't it? That's a culturally subservient way of thinking, Kim Yul.”
A peaceful everyday life, enjoyed after such a long time.
Of course, the reason it had gotten so busy was largely due to Kim Yul's prolific output,
but lately Historié had also evolved into a two-job worker, handling fantasy-magic study alongside concertmaster duties.
Kim Yul, having built up a three-day stockpile,
and Historié, with the troupe leader summoned to the imperial palace, had her magic class canceled and concert practice off for the day.
“So peaceful....”
“Wow, you just stabbed peace, Kim Yul.”
The two of them, draped over plush Gothic-style chairs, were savoring the interlude's peace while swallowing up whatever nonsense came their way.
“Historié.”
“Yes, Kim Yul.”
“From your point of view, what do you think of this world?”
Apparently not properly grasping Kim Yul's point,
Historié tilted her head.
“Even if human lives are all similar, this is still a strange world. Magic has developed, but gunpowder isn't used much, so even when ocean voyages are possible they don't use cannon, and firearms haven't properly developed. And yet music has already climbed the tech tree all the way to orchestral works.”
The contradictions Kim Yul had failed to notice while charging straight ahead all this time spilled from his mouth,
“Why wouldn't the wizards of Ha■ry Potter duel with guns? Avada Kedavra would solve it neatly.”
Historié, as the secret successor of the fantasy school of magic, fervently preached that magic could do anything.
Of course.
“Hmm? If I were Volde■ort, I'd probably just go to the Potters' place with a double-barrel shotgun.”
“England is one of the world's strictest gun-control countries, so even Volde■ort would have had to obey those laws.”
“Hm... I guess that's the scale of the king of Dobong District.”
Though the topic had been serious, Kim Yul's nonsense that followed made Historié let out a quiet sigh.
“From what I've seen and felt so far, this world can be summed up, in Earth terms, as roughly seventeenth-century development with an arcane-punk worldview layered on top.”
“Eeeh, I seeee....”
Historié stretched out an arm and slapped Kim Yul's lips as he yawned.
“Ouch! Now the tin can is hitting its master....!”
“This isn't simple violence. It's the tearful rod of love meant to enlighten the foolish Kim Yul, who is gradually losing his wits.”
“Why are you treating me like some mutt?”
Kim Yul grumbled in displeasure, but as the saying goes, speak of Nureongi and Nureongi appears.
“Grrr, I'm not Nureongi! Keep the chapters coming, keep the chapters coming!”
“What the hell, when did you get here?”
Seeing Estéa flutter in through the second-floor window instead of the perfectly good front gate, Kim Yul shuddered.
At the sight of that,
memories of the years of being insulted as 'tin can' flashed through Historié's mind.
“Es-chan. Kim Yul has a reserve stash.”
“Whaaaat! Hand it over right now!”
“Hwaaah! You betrayed me!”
Watching Estéa lunge as if to devour him on the spot, clutching Kim Yul and nibbling at his head with her teeth,
Historié smiled with satisfaction.
* * *
By nature, when the same stimulus is repeated, one's sensory threshold inevitably rises.
Roselyn, a master at consuming Kim Yul's misery stew, was exactly that sort of person.
“My, a musician losing his hearing. How tragic....”
To Roselyn, who had been a fan since Kim Yul's earliest works,
now, unless the story veered into something like a terminal illness or the real protagonist dying, mere hearing loss wasn't enough to make her angry!
Of course, music-savvy readers were hurling all kinds of complaints, asking what kind of insane makjang development this was,
but fortunately for Kim Yul, Roselyn was musically clueless, and in fact didn't even like music all that much.
For her, music was mostly hymns.
They made her sleepy as soon as she listened, but she had a bad memory etched into her of getting scolded for dozing off, so that disconnect was only natural.
So what she focused on was romance.
When Beethoven was still a greenhorn, his romance with Lorhen, who could be called his first love, sadly didn't last very long.
If the historical fact that Lorhen married Franz Wegeler, the man who had introduced Beethoven to her, had been included, Roselyn would surely have coughed up blood.
- That's... kind of messed up, right?
- Are you insane, Kim Yul?
Thanks to Kim Yul's official 'source of all inspiration' and the devotion of an ultra-high-performance AI editor that could turn even chewed-up scraps into polished work,
Kim Yul was able to avoid a bad ending where he got hit by a saintess punch and had a lava hole blown through his solar plexus.
But as though trying to neutralize the frustrating hearing-loss plotline, Kim Yul brought in a new heroine,
“Oh my, oh my. Teacher and student! What's with this atmosphere? It's totally steamy!”
The name of the heroine that made Roselyn's heart go pitter-patter this time was Giulietta Guicciardi.
Unlike Lorhen, whose relationship with him was closer to youthful innocence than romance, Beethoven and Guicciardi quickly started to spark a flame of love,
and, the romance of all romances,
- Giulietta. I shall dedicate this piece to you.
“Oh my, oh my....!”
Until he dedicated the piano sonata he had composed himself, 'Moonlight,' to her.
Of course, there was even the part where he sent letters to his friends lamenting that he could no longer hear, but.
Roselyn was certain.
The hearing-loss affliction was granted
for the sake of the 'perfect plot' in which love could overcome everything....!
.
.
.
The installment from three days later.
Giulietta's family voiced its opposition to her marriage with Beethoven.
The installment from four days later.
Giulietta suddenly married another man.
And.
Roselyn's hands trembled as she read the installment from five days later.
## ====== ##
The sound of the wind shaking the forest was loud, but
to Beethoven's ears it felt only like a faint vibration.
Sometimes it was the unpleasant buzzing of thousands of bees inside his ears, and at other times there were moments when all of that noise seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving only emptiness.
As he mulled over his complicated feelings,
he dipped the nib in ink and began to write a letter.
“To my brother Karl and ... . Oh! There are those who think of me, or speak of me, as hostile, stubborn, and a hater of mankind. How greatly they misunderstand me.”
To feel the sound flowing through his own body, he read the words aloud as he wrote.
Beethoven shuddered again in despair, unable even to properly hear the sorrowful scratch of the nib across the paper.
At last.
He began to pour out the darkness that had pooled deep in his heart, character by character.
“I tried to push all these afflictions out of my mind, but before long I only had to feel even more keenly the sad fact that my ears could not hear. How cruel a life! Tell people to speak louder, to shout that I can't hear! I could not bring myself to say such a thing....”
His surging emotions swirled, echoing across the letter paper and into the empty air where no listeners remained.
…….
…….
The strength drained from Beethoven's arm before he could even finish the sentence.
That was how it was.
The moment hearing grew difficult.
And the moment he felt that it would only grow worse from here.
His future as a musician.
His life was as good as over, too.
One pillar that had supported his lonely, sorrowful life.
Even the happiness Giulietta gave him had come to an end.
For the first time in his life, he felt that if he married this woman, he'd be happy for the rest of his life, but.
She was of a different station.
At least....
In Austria.
In this damned Europe, in this rotten feudal society.
There were things that simply could not be achieved because one's station was different.
That fact, too, shattered Beethoven's heart.
A great man.
The age's hero, Eroica, a man who would smash this absurd, hypocritical society and gift everyone true freedom, equality, and fraternity.
If Napoleon were to enlighten this age, things might change, but.
…Even so.
How could he, a man going deaf, stand proudly before Giulietta and sing her a love song?
Even her voice.
With these ears that couldn't properly take in even the pieces she played.
In the end, Beethoven, full of passion,
“Then farewell. Even if I die, do not forget me entirely. While I lived, I thought much of you and wanted to make you happy....”
began to bring the letter to a close.
What expression would his brothers make if they received this letter?
Would they be sad, angry, or heartbroken?
He had no way of knowing.
Beethoven murmured once more the prayer he'd also written into the letter.
“God! Since you can see into my heart, you will know all this. That my heart is filled with love for humanity and the wish to do good....”
God's voice.
He could not hear it.
For now, at least.
## ====== ##
Roselyn found the veil she'd taken off a moment earlier and put it back on.
She brushed off the dust that had gathered on the placard she'd used when she last voiced her protest.