Collections of Desiree のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Klaus's Pov My bow trembled against the strings, and I cursed under my breath in three different languages—none of them particularly flattering to my current state of mind. The morning rehearsal at the Bavarian State Orchestra had been going smoothly until Maestro Weber announced we'd be getting a new pianist. Apparently, our previous accompanist, Herr Müller, had decided that seventy-three was the perfect age to discover his passion for competitive ballroom dancing in Argentina. Good for him, terrible for my carefully maintained routine."Klaus, mein Freund," Weber called out, his baton pointed directly at me like an accusation. "Perhaps you could play with less... aggression? We are performing Brahms, not declaring war on Austria."A few chuckles rippled through the orchestra. I forced a smile and adjusted my grip on my violin, my 1887 Guadagnini that cost more than most people's cars and had been my constant companion for the better part of fifteen years. She was temperamental

Klaus's Pov The afternoon rehearsal was a disaster, and it was entirely my fault.Not in any obvious way, mind you. I hit every note, came in on every cue, and maintained the kind of professional demeanor that had carried me through fifteen years of orchestral performances. But my concentration was shot to hell, and in classical music, mental distraction is like trying to perform surgery while riding a unicycle—theoretically possible, but inadvisable.The problem was Finn.More specifically, the problem was the way Finn played piano like he was composing love letters to the universe, and how every time our parts intersected, I felt like I was receiving personal correspondence. We were working through Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 23, and the way he handled the andante movement should have been illegal in several German states."Klaus!" Weber's voice cut through my reverie like a conductor's baton through sheet music. "Are you planning to join us for the crescendo, or shall we wait f

Klaus's Pov We walked through Munich's old town afterward, the wine making everything feel slightly soft around the edges. The November air was crisp enough to see our breath, and the Christmas markets were already setting up in Marienplatz, transforming the square into something that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale."God, I love this city," Finn said, stopping in front of the Rathaus to look up at the gothic spires that disappeared into the darkness above the street lights. "Hamburg is beautiful, but it's all maritime efficiency and Protestant work ethic. This place has actual magic to it.""You say that now," I replied, pulling my coat tighter against the cold. "Wait until you experience your first proper Bavarian winter. By February, you'll be dreaming of Hamburg's charming gray skies.""Pessimist." He bumped my shoulder with his, a casual gesture that sent an entirely disproportionate jolt through my nervous system. "I happen to enjoy winter. Something about the way ev

Klaus's Pov The charity gala was held at the Residenz, Munich's former royal palace, in a ballroom that had hosted emperors and kings and probably witnessed more political intrigue than a dozen spy novels. Tonight it was filled with Bavaria's cultural elite, all dressed in their finest and pretending they came for the music rather than the networking opportunities.I stood backstage, adjusting my bow tie for the fifth time and trying to ignore the way my hands were trembling. In fifteen years of performing, I'd never been this nervous before a concert.I'd played for presidents, recorded albums that went platinum, performed solos at venues that most musicians only dreamed of. But tonight felt different. Tonight felt like everything was balanced on the edge of a knife."You look like you're about to throw up," Finn said, appearing beside me in the wings. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that should have been illegal in several European Union member states, and his bo

Klaus's Pov Weber's office felt smaller than usual, probably because it contained more tension than a Wagnerian opera. I sat across from his massive oak desk, trying to read his expression and failing spectacularly. Finn sat beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat from his arm but far enough away that we weren't actually touching. Even that small distance felt like a chasm."Gentlemen," Weber began, steepling his fingers in the way that usually preceded either profound wisdom or complete disaster. "We need to discuss last night's performance."I braced myself for the lecture about professionalism, about maintaining appropriate boundaries between personal and professional relationships, about the orchestra's reputation and the need for discretion."It was extraordinary," he continued, and I blinked in surprise. "In thirty years of conducting, I've rarely witnessed such musical chemistry. The reviews this morning, while... coded in their language, are universally praising