*GRRT*
Elio entered the room with his usual bright energy and a wide smile on his face.
"Isolde, are you still at it? It's been hours!"
The moment Isolde saw Elio, her angry expression softened into something more shy. She averted her eyes and responded in a small voice,
"Elio... I'm trying, but I can't seem to get it right."
The middle-aged woman turned to Elio and added,
"Princess Isolde uses her fingers a bit differently, Prince Elio. I can't quite figure out what's causing the trouble."
With brisk steps, Elio walked over and plopped down right beside Isolde.
"Let me see."
Isolde, who had been irritated and tense just moments ago, suddenly became shy, instinctively scooting away as he sat beside her.
Elio gently took her hand, lifting it into the air.
"With these log fingers, I'm surprised you can play at all. Hahaha!"
Isolde quickly pulled her hand back and tried to hide it behind her. A wounded look flickered across her face.
"No need to hide them. Give me your hand," Elio said, gazing straight at her.
Isolde hesitated, but eventually offered her hands again. Elio took her fingers gently, positioning them on the lyre.
"Here. Like this."
He guided her fingers with his own, softly pressing them to the strings.
♫ Pling... Plang... Pling... ♫
"See? That's all it takes. A soft, gentle touch."
Isolde's cheeks flushed faintly, but she didn't resist his guidance.
♫ Pling... Plang... Pling... Plang... Pling... ♫
"Oh! You're really playing it now, Princess Isolde!" the instructor said with delight.
Isolde continued strumming, her confidence growing. After a short while, Elio slowly withdrew his fingers.
♫ Pling... Plang... Pling... ♫
"That's it! Keep going, you're doing great!" he said, cheering her on.
♫ Pling... Plang... Pling... ♫
"I really can do it…"