It had been several years since Franz had heard a bard sing, so he was a little out of practice doing snooty aristocratic appraisals of their performances, but he was pretty sure Berry the bard who’d made an appointment to see him and Gavin today was better at it than any of the other bards he’d heard as a child.
But, Franz decided, as the song ended, since the bards’ guild had decided not to let any bards work two years ago until their members were treated fairly, this wasn’t an official performance, which meant Franz probably didn’t need to be aristocratic. So instead of that, he applauded. “Well done,” he told Berry, who was happily fiddling with his lute. “That was marvelous.”
“It was,” agreed Gavin, in a rare display of taste. He had a boner, which he wasn’t concealing. “You’re very talented, and the song is very interesting. Did you write it?”