Chapter 24 - The Laureate’s Challenge

He offered his composition:

"Zephyrs stir the sleeping bough,

Soft snow through casement's seam doth flow.

Swirling mist, a spectral shroud,

Carpets step in frozen clouds.

Gone the willow's verdant hue,

Only gilded boughs shine through.

Tears unseen, in silence shed,

Vain the longing, vain words said."

Thunderous applause followed. Sterling accepted it with weary grace. "Your turn, Madam."

I met his gaze, a spark of defiance igniting. "Hear then:

"Plum and snow vie for spring's first glance,

Poets pause, in a frozen trance.

Plum yields to snow's purer white,

Snow lacks plum's perfume, sweet and light.

Snow without plum, spirit denied,

Plum without snow, beauty belied.

Dusk descends, verse takes flight,

Snow and plum merge – perfect spring's light!"

Mocking laughter erupted. "She speaks of plums! Fraud!" "A nursery rhyme!"

Sterling stood transfixed. When the jeers subsided, his voice held reverence. "You humble me, Madam. Intertwining plum and snow… a masterstroke. The snow's purity is enhanced by contrast… This surpasses my effort entirely."

Gasps echoed. Disbelief warred with burgeoning awe on the faces around us. Sterling's gaze lingered, a faint blush coloring his cheekbones. Was London's paragon… shy?