Chapter 07
“Apparently, she’s just a member of this theater troupe.”
“Goodness, does that mean she didn’t even formally study opera?”
When the large eyes of the onlookers began to question the crown prince’s taste in music, Princess Charlotte entered the royal box accompanied by Count Guno, the owner of Guno Opera Theater, and Duke Deimos.
The ladies chatting about the mysterious opera singer and the gentlemen idly smoking cigars all rose to their feet. After greeting the duke and duchess respectfully, they sat back down as the couple took their seats.
“What a lovely pair they are.”
Princess Charlotte, her platinum-blonde hair styled elegantly, whispered something to her husband, causing the pink ostrich feathers on her hat to sway delicately. Looking particularly radiant and happy that evening, she seemed like the protagonist of the opera itself.
“Indeed. The duke is so handsome and devoted. The busiest man in Bern, yet he listens to every word the princess says. If my husband were like that, I’d treat him like a king,” one of the noblewomen sighed, glancing dreamily at the still-dashing Duke Deimos despite his middle age. Inevitably, their thoughts turned to their own lackluster husbands, prompting quiet groans of resignation.
The orchestra members began entering the pit, tuning their instruments. The dissonant sounds soon gave way to silence, and the grand chandeliers dimmed, rising into the ceiling.
“It’s starting.”
As the theater grew darker, the audience fell silent, anticipation glittering in their eyes. When the overture concluded, the red curtain began to lift, revealing the stage bathed in a mysterious glow from the footlights.
“Thank you, dear. I can’t wait to see how captivating this siren is,” Princess Charlotte murmured, holding her husband’s hand with a gentle smile. The duke returned the gesture, softly kissing her gloved hand before letting it go. Yet, as he turned to face the stage, his gaze was chillingly cold.
All eyes turned to the brightly lit stage as the curtain fully lifted. A moment of stunned silence followed before someone gasped in disbelief.
“Wait! Isn’t that Miss Fiona Bennett?”
Disappointed murmurs spread throughout the audience, and even Princess Charlotte frowned slightly. The deception caused a stir, but Duke Deimos alone seemed entirely satisfied as he watched Miss Bennett perform.
“Fiona Bennett Returns Triumphant”
Arthur let out a soft chuckle as he read the article, laced with the writer’s evident frustration. His blue eyes, shadowed by his lashes, grew calm as he finished the piece.
The article detailed the outrage of the audience, who had anticipated Christine Faledon in the role of Violet. Some even demanded refunds, and many left the theater mid-performance, creating chaos. The scathing critique of the Guno Opera Theater’s actor management drew a faint smirk from Arthur.
The excuse? The flu.
It was the bare minimum for lead performers to maintain their health during a show run.
Christine Faledon was either an amateur incapable of meeting the basics or genuinely prevented by an uncontrollable circumstance. If it were the latter…
Arthur folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket. As he lit it, his aide opened the carriage window slightly, letting in the distant jingle of Salvation Army bells. The sound of winter.
Eliminating inconvenient patrons to play the role of a devoted lover? A classic Deimos move.
Arthur exhaled smoke, gazing out at the frost-covered trees lining the broad avenue. Their icy branches sparkled like tiny crystals under the late morning sun, reminding him of a woman standing under dazzling lights.
A woman no better than an expensive prostitute.
Her tear-filled eyes and expression of gratitude as she bowed to her cheering audience struck him as laughable. The memory brought a bitter curl to his lips as the smoke from his cigarette disappeared into the winter air.
“Should we attempt contact with Christine Faledon, Your Highness?”
“I believe informants without conviction aren’t worth trusting,” Arthur replied indifferently over the sound of the carriage wheels slowing.
It was a tempting suggestion. The woman could indeed prove a valuable informant. Yet Arthur saw things differently.
The possibility of her becoming a double agent couldn’t be ignored. Expecting loyalty from someone who sold themselves was absurd.
“Let’s keep our distance for now.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Arthur was determined to repay Duke Deimos in kind. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.
And life for a life.
Crossing the bridge over the Dauner River, the royal carriage followed that of Prince Arsène and his wife toward the Greeta City Hospital. They were attending a charity event where the prince’s wife would deliver gifts to the children’s ward.
Had he a crown princess, this tedious obligation might have been hers to fulfill.
King Alexander and Queen Sofia had been pressing the issue of marriage, with the king recently asking for Arthur’s opinion during a meal.
“Do as you see fit,” Arthur had responded indifferently, as if discussing a stranger’s marriage.
All he needed was someone to fulfill the role of crown princess. He had no preference otherwise.
Arthur extinguished his cigarette just as the carriage came to a stop. Outside, flashes of cameras and the noise of the crowd were already overwhelming.
After adjusting his coat, Arthur stepped out.
At the hospital entrance, figures dressed as Santa Claus stood with large sacks slung over their shoulders. Amid the flurry of lights and noise, Arthur escorted Prince Arsène and his wife inside.
“Busy with rehearsals? Why bother coming?”
Though she pretended to scold her, Anna couldn’t hide her delight. After a week apart, it was clear her condition had improved.
Anna had been proudly talking about her daughter to the doctors and nurses, saying she had to get better to see her perform.
Christine felt her throat tighten with emotion.
Her mother’s determination to recover made a difference. She couldn’t afford to worry her.
“Did you do well in your performance yesterday?”
Anna’s hopeful expression made Christine pause as she was unbuttoning her coat. The room suddenly felt heavy, and she could feel the sharp gaze of Mrs. Nora, who was knitting nearby.
Christine moistened her dry lips. She had to stay cheerful.
“Actually… I didn’t perform. Miss Bennett took my place since she wasn’t feeling well.”
Her voice and smile were carefully composed, but they felt as unnatural as a bad actor’s performance.
Hanging her coat on a chair, Christine turned to see the disappointment in Anna’s face.
“I see,” her mother said quietly, gazing up at her daughter with a thoughtful expression.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course!”
Christine forced a bright smile, lying once again.
But the truth was, she hadn’t been okay for a long time.
“He told me to keep quiet. To live as if I didn’t exist.”
How could she be okay?
But she couldn’t tell her mother the truth. Not when Anna loved that man. Not when Anna’s recovery depended on her not being hurt.
