Dawn arrived with unusual swiftness, as if the night itself was eager to retreat. Ali woke to find the frost patterns on her window had vanished, leaving no trace of their mysterious presence. Beside her, Sage was already awake, carefully arranging her hair in the intricate style favored by the Summer Court.
"Did you notice anything strange in the night?" Ali asked, touching the window where the frost had been.
Sage paused in her preparations. "Strange how?"
Before Ali could respond, a melodic chime echoed through their quarters—the call to morning preparations. They hurried to dress in the light, flowing garments provided by the court, Ali choosing a pale green dress that reminded her of new leaves in spring.
"Remember," Sage whispered as they left their room, "today we begin our real lessons. First impressions matter greatly to the fae."
The morning air was sweet with the scent of summer blooms as they made their way to the dining hall. Other tributes joined them, all moving with careful grace, mindful of the watchful eyes of the fae court. Ali noticed that several of the younger fae nobles were present this morning, including Twilight-Stars-Dancing, who inclined his head slightly as they passed.
Breakfast was a light affair of fruits that seemed to glow with inner light and bread that tasted of sunshine and honey. Ali ate sparingly, recalling her mother's warning about fae food and its effects. Some of the other tributes were less cautious, and she noticed their movements becoming more languid, their eyes taking on a dreamy quality.
Melody-In-Moonlight appeared as they were finishing, her silver-white hair now streaked with subtle shades of dawn. "Ali," she called, her voice carrying across the hall like a bell tone, "your music lesson awaits."
Ali rose, careful to push her chair back with exactly the right amount of sound—neither too harsh nor too timid. As she followed Melody-In-Moonlight through the winding corridors of the Summer Court, she noticed the walls seemed to shimmer with residual magic from the night's songs.
The music room was not as Ali had imagined it. Instead of an enclosed space, it was an open pavilion surrounded by flowering vines that moved in time to an invisible breeze. Various instruments were arranged throughout the space, some recognizable, others completely foreign in design.
"Last night," Melody-In-Moonlight began, "you witnessed the power of our songs. Today, you begin to understand them." She gestured to a simple wooden flute. "We'll start with something familiar."
Ali picked up the flute, surprised to find it warm to the touch. As she raised it to her lips, she noticed intricate patterns carved into the wood, patterns that seemed to shift and change as she watched.
"Play what you remember from the Night Songs," Melody-In-Moonlight instructed, "but be mindful of winter's touch."
Ali began to play, recreating the gentle melody that had opened the previous night's ceremony. The notes came easily, as if the flute itself remembered the song. Around them, the vine flowers turned to follow the sound, their petals opening and closing in rhythm.
"Good," Melody-In-Moonlight nodded, "but listen more deeply. The Night Songs are never just music—they're conversations, declarations, sometimes even warnings."
As Ali played, she tried to recall the complex interactions she'd witnessed during the Revel. Her music took on a questioning tone, and to her surprise, the vines responded, their movements becoming more pronounced.
"Yes," Melody-In-Moonlight encouraged, "you're beginning to understand. The court speaks in harmony and discord, in major keys and minor shifts. Last night, Iron-Whispers-In-Darkness spoke of winter's ambitions. What did you hear in his song?"
Ali lowered the flute, choosing her words carefully. "There was... longing in it. And something else—a challenge, perhaps?"
"Perceptive." Melody-In-Moonlight's expression became thoughtful. "The balance between courts is delicate, especially as the seasons prepare to turn. But winter should not reach for power so far from its appointed time."
She took up a strange, crystalline instrument that resembled a harp made of light. "Watch, and listen to how we might respond to such challenges."
Her fingers moved across the strings, creating a melody that spoke of summer's strength—warm breezes and abundant growth, the height of the season's power. Ali felt the air around them grow warmer, heavy with the scent of flowers in full bloom.
"Now," Melody-In-Moonlight said, "join me. Show me what summer means to you."
Ali raised the flute again, adding her voice to the song. She thought of long days and golden light, of the garden at home where her mother grew roses, of the way sunshine felt on her face in the moments before autumn's first chill. The music flowed naturally, intertwining with Melody-In-Moonlight's crystalline notes.
The vines around the pavilion burst into sudden bloom, flowers opening in a cascade of color. Other fae musicians who had been passing by stopped to listen, some adding their own harmonies to the growing song. Ali felt the music building into something larger than herself, a declaration of summer's sovereignty.
Then, from somewhere nearby, came a counter-melody that made her fingers falter on the flute. The new song spoke of autumn's approach, of the inevitable turning of seasons. Ali recognized Nightshade-Among-Stars' voice, though she couldn't see him.
"Don't stop," Melody-In-Moonlight instructed, her own music shifting to accommodate the new element. "This is how we converse, how we negotiate the delicate balance of power. Show us what you've learned."
Ali took a deep breath and continued playing, but now she wove elements of change into her song—the sweetness of late summer fruits, the lingering warmth of evening, the gradual shortening of days. She felt rather than saw Melody-In-Moonlight's approval.
The impromptu concert drew more attention, and soon the pavilion was surrounded by fae nobles, each adding their own interpretations to the musical conversation. Ali began to distinguish different factions through their harmonies—those who supported summer's continued reign, those who looked forward to autumn's approach, and a few who seemed to favor winter's early ambitions.
Through it all, Melody-In-Moonlight's crystalline harp guided the exchange, maintaining a delicate balance between the competing voices. Ali followed her lead, learning through observation how to navigate the complex political waters of the fae court through music.
As the song finally drew to a close, Ali noticed Queen Mirabelle herself standing at the edge of the gathering, her expression unreadable. The Queen didn't speak, but she held Ali's gaze for a long moment before turning away, her departure sending ripples of whispered conversation through the assembled fae.
"Well," Melody-In-Moonlight said once the crowd had dispersed, "that was quite an impressive first lesson." She took the flute from Ali's hands, examining the patterns carved into its surface. "The instrument has bonded with you. That's unusual for a human tribute."
"Is that... good?" Ali asked, noting how the patterns had changed during their performance.
"It's significant," Melody-In-Moonlight replied. "The fae realm responds to those who understand its rhythms. You've shown an aptitude that won't go unnoticed." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "That may bring both opportunities and challenges."
As if to emphasize her point, a cool breeze swept through the pavilion, carrying the faintest hint of frost despite the summer warmth. The flowers that had bloomed so vigorously during their performance shivered, their petals drawing closed.
"Remember," Melody-In-Moonlight said, "every song here has meaning, every harmony carries weight. Choose your melodies wisely." She handed the flute back to Ali. "Practice tonight, but be mindful of winter's ears. They're listening more closely than usual."
As Ali left the pavilion, she caught sight of Twilight-Stars-Dancing watching her from a nearby garden. He smiled when their eyes met, but there was something cautionary in his expression. She remembered the fragments of conversation she'd overheard the night before about winter's growing boldness.
The flute felt warm against her skin as she carried it back to her quarters, and she could have sworn she heard it humming softly, repeating fragments of the morning's songs. She had a feeling her music lessons would involve far more than simply learning to play—they would teach her to speak the complex language of the fae courts, where every note could curry favor or cause offense.
In her room, she carefully placed the flute on a shelf, watching as the carved patterns shifted one final time before settling into a design that reminded her of summer constellations. Outside her window, the eternal summer day continued, but she couldn't shake the feeling that change was coming, faster than anyone in the Summer Court wanted to admit.