Chapter 206: Memorize!
Every spring and autumn, noble youths and highborn ladies gathered here for leisure. Painted pleasure boats crowded the waters like schools of fish, while scholars and beauties met on the lake, indulging in wine, poetry, music, and revelry.
Each year, after the imperial examinations, successful candidates would flock to Swan Lake in groups, hosting grand banquets and drinking freely, giving rise to the famed tradition of ’bottoms up at Swan Lake.’
In Simon’s memory, Swan Lake was the liveliest place in Eldora.
When the three of them arrived, the scene matched his recollections perfectly. The lake shimmered with rippling blue waves, dotted with countless painted boats from which the melodies of strings and flutes drifted, accompanied by the enchanting songs of women.
Along the lakeshore, autumn chrysanthemums bloomed in dazzling hues, competing in splendour. Scholars and ladies strolled arm in arm, while vendors hawked their wares, street performers drummed up crowds, and the aroma of snacks and delicacies filled the air.
"Your Highness."
On the arched bridge spanning the Lake, Simon spotted Lancelot and Liam, both now dressed in plain clothes."Has the poetry contest started yet?" Simon cut straight to the point.
His purpose here was simple: to catch a glimpse of Elin’s beauty.
Everything else was secondary.
"Not yet." Liam pointed ahead beneath the bridge. "But it seems quite a crowd has gathered."
Simon followed his gaze. The area Liam indicated was now cordoned off with silk drapes, guarded by soldiers clad in golden armour.
No one but Princess Lisa could muster such an extravagant display.
Outside the drapes, scholars craned their necks, straining for a look inside.
"My Lord, with so many people, why bother with this poetry nonsense? Let’s just board a pleasure boat and enjoy some tea." Lancelot grumbled, already itching to leave.
Ignoring Lancelot’s impatience, Liam continued. "They say the winners of the contest will join the princess for a lakeside excursion. Those scholars are practically salivating at the chance."
Simon scoffed. "Then this contest is pointless. I’ve no interest in touring the lake with my aunt."
"My Lord, I haven’t finished. I checked earlier, and the rules state that the winners include both men and women. That means if a lady excels, she’ll also accompany the princess. Elin’s literary talent is renowned in Eldora. Who knows? Maybe she’ll..." Liam trailed off with a suggestive grin.
Simon frowned as he asked a question. "Why go through the trouble? If I ask my aunt directly, would she really refuse me?"
"She would. Last year, even the Crown Prince was turned away." Liam spoke with conviction.
Princess Lisa’s temperament was well-known. If Liam said so, it was likely true.
"Fine. You two go do whatever you want. I’ll scout the situation here."
Lancelot needed no further urging, dragging Liam away immediately.
The three descended the stone bridge, arriving at the contest site. A sign read. "Entry by Poetry." Many scholars clutched scrolls of their compositions, waiting to submit them once the event began.
Peering past the drapes, Simon glimpsed a line of women on the other side, presumably also awaiting the contest.
"My Lord, what now? It seems we need poems to enter." Ysabeau and Joan observed.
"Simple. I’ll teach you a few poems now. Memorise them, and slipping in will be easy. Remember, your priority is gathering intel on Elin. Observe her appearance."
Simon was playing it safe. If recognised by a prince or noble, word might reach Princess Lisa, prompting Elin to avoid him entirely.
So, he would send Ysabeau and Joan in first, joining them later.
"Understood, Your Highness." The two maids smiled.
Though they dabbled in poetry, they doubted their skills could rival those of true scholars. But with Simon’s guidance, whose verses had already stunned Eldora, success was assured.
After consideration, Simon carefully selected two poems by female poets.
The first was "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson:
Because I could not stop for Death -
He kindly stopped for me -
The Carriage held but just Ourselves -
And Immortality.
We slowly drove - He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labour and my leisure too,
For His Civility -
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess - in the Ring -
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain -
We passed the Setting Sun -
Or rather, He passed us -
The Dews drew quivering and Chill -
For only Gossamer, my Gown -
My Tippet - only Tulle -
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground -
The Roof was scarcely visible -
The Cornice - in the Ground -
Since then - ’tis Centuries - and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
We’re toward Eternity -
The second was "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop:
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
So many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
After reciting these, Ysabeau and Joan stared in astonishment. These were unmistakably a woman’s verses, melancholic and introspective.
"My Lord, this..." Recovering, the maids eyed him with strange expressions.
Were it not for his burning curiosity about his future bride, Simon would never have shared such poems. Their looks made him feel like a modern man caught wearing stockings.
Coughing, he said. "I copied these from my mother’s collection. Now hurry!"
Only then did the maids snap to attention, memorising the lines swiftly. Simon then taught Ysabeau "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou, a famously poignant lyric.
Ysabeau, being sharper than Joan, would handle the contest while Joan observed from within.
Once the maids had memorised the poems perfectly, the crowd suddenly stirred; submission time had arrived.
"Go on." Simon urged.
Nodding, Ysabeau and Joan linked arms and headed for the women’s section beyond the drapes.