You duck backstage and re-emerge with a fine hand drum you espied at the bottom of a trunk. Trotting back to the pair of musicians, you secure their nonverbal blessing to join in and begin a tattoo steady as you can, singing along whenever called for as well.
You make a passable trio, though Joan and Gilbert are significantly more skilled than you. While you do not stand out, you do not detract from the music, and the nobles finish the mad circling dance many minutes later in high spirits. Joan and Gilbert pat your shoulders and shower you with more praise than you deserve. [+Company] You're quite certain you learned more from them about technique—how to read a crowd and match the music to the action—than you genuinely contributed. [+Stagecraft]
Onward