I...

[francel wavers. his self-loathing is no small thing, but the warmth and kindness in aymeric's words are so tempting that it makes francel's heart ache. suddenly, francel finds his entire worldview doubted.

is he allowed, really, to want it? is it really possible for him to believe in a world where it's okay for him to fail so long as he enjoyed himself?]

...Can you promise that you will not laugh?

[francel finally lifts his gaze toward aymeric's, fixing him with a vulnerable, pleading look.]

I... I have always enjoyed... music. The performance of music, the writing of music... It has long been my heart's desire to compose something so powerful that all can hear the love in every note, and then to hear it performed by a grand orchestra...

[his voice quavers. he looks as if he might cry. it's a strange feeling, to talk about his innermost feelings with a man he met only a few times before.

and. bedded.]

...You must think this a... a foolish dream. A stupid dream. Even Haurchefant never took me seriously when I... when I spoke of it...