"Music and politics. Worst subjects to argue about," Emerson replied with a laugh as he shook his head. It had been a saying his mother had been fond of imparting to him when he was growing up. She'd been the musician, and she'd been thrilled when her son had taken after her in his love for music. He was painfully aware of the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He'd never really noticed before when he was or wasn't smiling.
He pointed out the basics to her, offering what little advice he'd been given to remember the keys and the notes as they were meant to be read. Mostly it would just take practice, and hopefully her natural gift would fall in sync with the more classic instruction the more she practiced.
"Trust me, I'm not typical when it comes to masters. I'm not gonna make you kneel by the bed when I'm gone or slave over keeping the fucking house sparkling and perfect," he explained, waving a hand. "I mean, help out around the house and shit, but have fun. Enjoy this place. Honestly, seeing this room get more use from someone who really enjoys it is probably one of the things that'll make me happiest."