The last time I took the stage was before I married Giovanni.

It was on this very stage, here at The Grey House, where I performed for a lackluster crowd on a rainy evening in the fourth month. The winter thaw had already begun, but the weather was still miserable enough to keep most of my regulars away. The only customers that evening were travelers staying at the inn and Giovanni, who always came to watch me perform.

Once my performance was over, I joined him at his regular booth, just to the right of the stage.

“Have you thought about my offer?” Giovanni asked, without so much as inquiring how I was.

“I have…” I began, but before I could say anything further, he interrupted.

“Look at this place. You have no future here. Your crowds are dwindling, and you’re not getting any younger. You should leave this behind before you embarrass yourself and your father.”

He said it with such kindness that I almost failed to notice the poison lacing his words.

“It’s cold and rainy tonight. Of course the crowd would be sparse,” I replied, my voice weary.

“You’re not getting any younger, Eva. Performing is a young person’s glory.”

He patted my hand as though offering sympathy, then continued.

“It’s settled, then. We’ll have a late spring wedding. Your father is amenable to the arrangement, and you’ll be able to move into my estate before the baking heat of the summer months. My home is far more comfortable.”

And just like that, my performing career came to an end.

At least, back then.

Now, we are in early spring once again.

And once again, it’s a rainy evening.

There aren’t many customers in the tavern tonight, but the booth where Giovanni once sat is now empty.

I walked onto the stage as I had done so many times before. The customers and staff who frequented The Grey House likely assumed I was there to clean up or prepare the stage for another performer. Perhaps they thought I had an announcement to make.

None of them had been around when I used to perform. They had no idea.

Celia, my runner, was clearing a recently vacated table when she noticed me. She knew there were no performances scheduled that evening, so she stopped what she was doing and watched.

I placed a stool at the center of the stage.

Nobody else paid me any mind.

Facing the small gathering, I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath, and began to sing.

“There was a time when the world was still and the grasslands were void of green…”

The entire tavern fell silent.

Every eye turned toward the stage. Even the bartenders and porters stopped what they were doing.

“…dust rolled from the hills where flowers grew and trees bore fruit, ripe and sweet.”

Those who had been too absorbed in their conversations to notice me before now turned their full attention toward the stage. One by one, they found seats. Even my staff settled in to witness something none of them had ever seen.

“Summer was stolen while clouds rolled past.
A decade of children who knew not the sweetness
of ripe fruit or the warmth of a Summer past.”

“The cage of Summer
had rusted and weakened.
A holy light opened the door
for the warmth once more.”

“Do not be afraid, said the light,
for this is what is due.
Summer return to the people.
Destiny needs you.”

“So Summer shined her light,
melted snow and ice.
Lakes once frozen now thawed.
Rivers frozen now ran.”

“Those that slept during the long winter
came to feast.
Starved in their hollow until your return.
Joy came to the land, but not all were glad.”

“Those that thrived in the snow attempted to barter.
Beg for Summer to not shine.
But Summer does what it does.
Summer’s glory reined over the sky.”

“And those who once envied Summer,
Spring and Fall,
both needed Summer,
but cursed her after all…”

“They could not exist without her,
for with her carried the Sun.
Winter carried the Moon,
hiding what was.”

“They would wait, and then steal,
and then break, and then punish.
Rent asunder Summer,
once they could plunder.”

“Make Summer small, weak and frail,
then hoping one of them would take over,
one day prevail.”

“But at it’s final hour,
the crownless king presides.
You cannot take what is not yours,
and you cannot steal from a person who’s mine.”

“The crownless king
laid claim to Summer,
for it was Summer who returned
his five pieces of gold”

“The child forgotten, the merchant caster,
the hidden rogue, the puppet master,
the suave rake, they made the five.
Four always seen, none could live if one died.”

The cage that once sealed Summer
Finally turned to dust
And the crownless king returned glory
To Summer’s holy trust.”

When the final note faded, I opened my eyes.

My cheeks were wet.

I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

The tavern had filled while I sang. What had begun as a sparse gathering had somehow doubled in size. More people stood crowded around the entrance, peering inside, their faces frozen in astonishment. Some were still dripping wet from the rain, having stopped in the doorway to listen.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

The only sound was the soft crackling of logs in the hearth.

Then, somewhere in the crowd, a small pair of hands began to clap.

It was Celia.

She slowly rose from her seat, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve, never once taking her eyes off me.

Another pair of hands joined hers.

Then another.

And another.

Until the entire tavern erupted.

Applause thundered through The Grey House, accompanied by whistles, cheers, and joyful hollers. The sound seemed to fill every corner of the old building, rising above even the rain beating against the windows.

I smiled through my tears and bowed.

I hadn’t planned to sing that evening. I hadn’t rehearsed, hadn’t prepared, hadn’t even known what words would come until I opened my mouth.

The song had come straight from my heart.

A premonition, perhaps. One whose meaning I couldn’t yet fully understand, though something deep within me knew it was important.

I looked out over the faces of the people gathered before me, then glanced toward the empty booth where Giovanni had once sat.

For so long, I had allowed his words to become my truth.

Tonight, for the first time in years, they no longer seemed to matter.

I bowed once more, and the tears came freely.

For once, I felt like my old self again.