Chapter 01
Winter had arrived in Greta of Bern.
It was a harsh season, one that Arthur despised.
Arthur extinguished his half-smoked cigarette in a portable ashtray and looked out the carriage window. The harsh north wind blew silver snowflakes from rooftops, and the glamorous face of the prima donna decorating the exterior of Guno Opera House shimmered under the bright lights. Fiona Bennet’s image dominated not only the grand entrance of the opera house but also the rows of gas lamps lining the street.
Despite the biting cold, the mostly aristocratic audience gathered eagerly to hear the star of the Guno Opera House, Miss Bennet, sing. The snowy roads were chaotic, and Arthur arrived at the opera house just as the second act was beginning.
Count Guno, the opera house’s owner, greeted the crown prince with a deep bow. Arthur returned the gesture with a graceful nod and entered the building. As the chandelier’s light bathed the lobby, the Count and his attendants, along with the theater’s manager and ushers, hurriedly moved in perfect coordination to accommodate the royal guest.
Arthur ascended the red-carpeted stairs to the second-floor hallway, where the muffled sounds of the orchestra seeped through like distant echoes. He stopped in front of the Franklin Marquis family’s private box rather than heading to the royal box.
The usher in a purple uniform bowed deeply and opened the door. Warmth and sound rushed out from inside.
“You’re finally here?”
Samuel Franklin, who had been watching the stage through opera glasses, turned to face Arthur. The others, leaning casually on the railing of the box, also turned to greet him.
“Perfect timing! Take a look at this,” Samuel whispered with excitement, handing over the opera glasses as Arthur took his seat. Samuel’s face was unusually animated tonight.
“She’s the new lead actress. A supporting role girl who became the star overnight.”
Arthur crossed one leg over the other and turned his gaze to the stage with indifference.
“If you’re a regular here, you’d recognize her. But this must be your first time seeing her.”
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Arthur’s cool, polished face, eagerly waiting for his reaction.
The woman, who supposedly landed the lead role overnight, stood at the center of the stage, wrapped in the tenor’s arms. She wore a white ball gown, her faux stone earrings glinting with every graceful tilt of her head to avoid his kiss.
Aside from her striking beauty, the opera failed to leave any impression on Arthur. It was just another performance he had seen dozens of times.
He shifted his gaze to the box across from them, where a middle-aged man surrounded by young women caught his attention. The women, dressed in revealing gowns, leaned in to whisper to the man or laugh softly while resting their heads on his shoulder.
Gray eyes, reddish-brown hair, and a slightly crooked nose.
Arthur studied the man’s face as it furtively glanced at one of the women beside him. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Once again, it wasn’t him.
Despite the efforts of his informants, the man only bore a passing resemblance to the person Arthur was searching for.
Arthur set down the opera glasses and pulled out another cigarette from his pocket. Exhaustion was catching up with him, and the pounding in his head only intensified. He closed his bloodshot eyes briefly, then opened them again.
There was no reason to linger here any longer.
A single cigarette’s time was enough to save Count Guno’s pride. Arthur lit his cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke.
Then, a captivating voice filled the theater, pulling him to a halt.
Ah, can you hear it?
This turmoil within my heart.
Arthur froze mid-movement, his eyes lifting instinctively toward the stage.
The woman had moved to the left side of the stage, under an orange tree set in a garden. Her light dress fluttered as she walked with a grace that seemed to defy gravity.
The flame of love ignites,
And it fills me.
The delicate woman’s passionate voice overwhelmed the audience, painting the dim theater in rosy hues.
Arthur’s eyes, fixed on the woman, grew deep and still like a sea under a moonlit night.
Though he had never seen her before, something about her voice felt oddly familiar.
“Christine Faledon,” Samuel Franklin said, lighting Arthur’s cigarette with a match as the prince’s gaze lingered on the woman.
“Faledon,” Arthur repeated, tasting the name on his tongue.
“She just had her coming-of-age ceremony this year, I heard,” Samuel added, intrigued by Arthur’s unusually long attention on her.
“I’ve had my eye on her since her days as a choir member, but she never gave me the time of day,” Samuel lamented.
Carter interjected with a smirk, “If you looked half as good as Arthur, you might’ve had better luck.”
The woman seemed quite well-known among the men in high society—not as an opera singer, but for other reasons.
“Shut up, Samuel. I’ve heard plenty of men brag about sleeping with her. Someday, maybe it’ll be my turn.”
The men chuckled among themselves.
It was common for upper-class men to visit the backstage after a performance and choose a dancer or actress to spend the night with. It was no secret that struggling performers sometimes used such liaisons to maintain a more comfortable lifestyle.
Is she one of those women?
Arthur exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes fixed on her through the haze. She looked like a mermaid, perched on a rock amidst foamy waves.
The joy of love
Sets my heart ablaze.
Her haunting voice rose, enveloping the audience in her spell. Like a siren luring sailors to their doom on moonlit seas. Would she sing the same way in bed? Wearing nothing but those blue earrings?
Arthur entertained the thought for a moment.
The audience, deeply engrossed in the performance, was silent. Even those who had been disappointed by the sudden change of lead actress now sat in breathless admiration, some shedding tears.
As the aria reached its climax, the woman’s clear voice soared, crashing into the domed ceiling like shimmering silver dust before descending softly.
At the dramatic end of the opera, where Violet’s death marked the end of a desperate love, the audience erupted into applause.
“Brava!”
Someone stood up, breaking the silence with a shout.
Thunderous applause and cheers soon followed, shaking the Guno Opera House with cries of her name.
“Brava! Bravi! Christine!”
The fervent ovation continued for some time.
Behind the curtain, the atmosphere was as heated as a festival square, with cheers and whistles ringing out. Yet, the faces of the other cast members were cold and sharp, their glances at Christine brimming with envy and disdain.
Christine, however, couldn’t hear any of it. Her heart was still racing from the thrill of the performance. Fighting the urge to show her happiness, she quietly lowered her head and slipped away.
Inside her dressing room, Christine leaned against the door, still feeling the trembling of her heart in her hands.
Tonight had been the happiest night of her life.
If only Mother could’ve seen this…
She took a deep breath, her narrowed eyes scanning the opulent dressing room.
The room, with its grand mirror framed in gold, intricately designed candlesticks, plush velvet sofa, and rare marble table, was a space reserved only for the prima donna of the Guno Opera House.
Though she’d entered this room many times before while running errands for Miss Fiona Bennet, it now felt unfamiliar, as if transformed.
Suddenly, a flash of silver light tore through the foggy glass of the window, followed by murmurs of commotion outside.
“Look, he’s coming out!” someone shouted.
Christine moved to the window.
Cameras flashed incessantly as a man surrounded by attendants walked out of the opera house. It was a common enough scene at the theater’s main entrance, but the scale of this crowd was unprecedented—and it was happening at the rear entrance.
Who could it be?
She wiped the fog from the cold glass with her hand, leaning closer to get a better view.
“Your Highness, Crown Prince! Please look this way!”
The man, poised to step into a luxurious carriage, turned his head at the reporters’ request.
As the intense camera flashes exploded, Christine found herself suddenly locking eyes with the man.
She froze in place, stunned.
