“Episode 2”
With a loud creak, the heavy curtain began to rise. ‘Is this performance really going on with just the two of us in the audience?’ The doubt was fleeting as the stage, illuminated by countless candles, captured my gaze.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting. Let the night of Oliviot begin now,” announced the ringmaster, and a variety of dazzling performances followed. From a man breathing fire to a mermaid swimming gracefully in a giant fishbowl, I was deeply mesmerized by the spectacle.
“The highly anticipated final act! Once a renowned actress, but now a tragic angel who lost her sight in an unfortunate accident! Hear the angel’s voice as she appeals for mercy and compassion from the gods!”
I felt a pang of disappointment that it was already the final act. My heart raced as I eagerly awaited the last performance. With the help of a member of the troupe, a middle-aged woman made her way onto the stage, taking a considerable time to find the center.
After a long wait, her lips parted.
“Sleep well, my child. Tonight, your cradle will be adorned with flowers and jewels.”
The delicate voice, akin to piano notes, pierced my ears, lifting my heavy eyelids wide open.
“My lovely child. Instead of nightmares, I will give you lavender that resembles your eyes.”
A lullaby, one without lyrics, that I had heard as a baby in my mother’s arms. I had forgotten even a single syllable of it, but here I was hearing it again in this place.
In the flickering light, the middle-aged woman reached out towards the audience. Like me, she had silver hair and purple eyes. Her unfocused eyes wandered aimlessly.
Foolishly, I was too overwhelmed to even clap, frozen in place until she left the stage. Ethan, noticing my expression, looked at me with concern.
“Isabella, are you alright?”
His voice, soft and comforting, caused tears to well up in my reddened eyes.
“I never thought I’d hear a song with lyrics,” I murmured. She had sung that forgotten lullaby hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times on stage.
Clasping my hands together as if in prayer, I whispered, “Ethan, tell me. Am I right in thinking what I am?”
Before he could answer, the troupe members came onto the stage for a curtain call for the two of us. Finally, with the help of the troupe, she waved towards the empty audience. Overwhelmed, I stood up and clapped until my hands were sore.
“Mother…,” I whispered, applauding her until the curtain descended. Only then did silence return to the theater. I buried my face in my swollen palms, sobbing uncontrollably. My throat burned from my gasps, and Ethan gently patted my shoulder.
“Isabella, would you like to talk to her?”
Talk to my mother? Could I finally convey my feelings to the woman I had yearned for my entire life?
“Thank you, really,” I said, gratitude overflowing.
What should I say to her? Should I set aside the sorrowful resentment and convey my joy like a child? Should I tell her that even though she abandoned me, I survived that hellish fire and ask her to praise me? Or should I ask her to hold me close and whisper that she loves me, like she did when I was a child?
“But I’m satisfied just to see her from afar,” I said, closing my eyes. Ethan’s pale fingers gently wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Poor Isabella, you missed her so much,” he said softly.
“I’m happy just knowing she’s alive. I won’t ask for more,” I replied, though it was a lie. I wanted to climb onto that stage and hold her tightly.
“If she learns the child she abandoned has found her, it would be too much for her guilt-ridden heart to bear.”
I could never fully understand the agony she felt when she abandoned me, her own flesh and blood. She had lived her life in guilt, having left a helpless baby at a door. I didn’t want to disturb her fragile peace of mind.
“Still, I’m really happy. I’ve learned something I was so curious about.”
Finally, I could see how her eyes crinkled when she smiled with joy, how her lips curved in a gentle arc, where her dimples appeared, and how she looked when overwhelmed with emotion. After groping through my faded memories and still not recalling her face, I could now finally see it clearly.
“Ethan, let’s leave now. We need to get back to the manor before it’s too late,” I murmured, wiping away my tears with my fingertips. Ethan reluctantly took my hand.
We walked slowly towards the exit of the theater. Under the canopy at the entrance, we looked up at the drizzling rain.
“It looks like the storm is passing.”
The colorful decorations of the theater flapped violently in the gusty wind. We would have to walk a bit further to reach the carriage. As I pondered our options, Ethan draped his coat over my head.
“Isabella, shall we run to the carriage like this?”
“It would be better if we covered ourselves together,” I said, lifting the coat above my head. Ethan smiled faintly and shook his head.
His white shirt, drenched in the rain, clung to him like wet petals, and his platinum blonde hair was tousled by the wind. I gazed at his waterlogged lashes, entranced, and then finally lifted my lips to speak.
“Actually, there wasn’t supposed to be a performance today, was there?”
Was the empty theater really because of the fierce storm?
“You knew my mother worked here and arranged this meeting, didn’t you?”
“If you want to express your gratitude, you can do it once we’re back in the carriage,” Ethan said, avoiding the topic. I grabbed his collar tightly and continued.
“It was a tearful, emotional moment, but please don’t do it again.”
It had to be today. Amidst the raging storm, you held my dying body and shared your warmth with me. You gave me half of your bed when I had nowhere to go and saved me from being sold to an old widower at great expense.
“I don’t want to owe you any more.”
“Owe? Inviting a mere traveling theater troupe is hardly a burden for me, though it might seem so to you,” Ethan said, stepping into the rain. The torrential downpour quickly engulfed him.
In the pouring rain, he extended his soaked hand.
“Let’s stop with the harsh words and get back to the carriage, shall we?”
“But, Ethan…”
When I didn’t move, he sighed deeply and continued.
“I couldn’t stand by and let Count Eloise slander your mother so cruelly. Even if she were a streetwalker as he claimed, it was wrong to speak of her that way.”
His eyes softened with sorrow. How strange you are, empathizing with the emotions of a mere parrot. If you had done it out of cheap sympathy, it wouldn’t have weighed so heavily on my heart.
“Isabella, think of it as an engagement gift from me. I just wanted to give you some peace.”
In the cold rain, Ethan’s translucent skin turned a ghastly blue. His already frail-looking face seemed ready to collapse at any moment. I hurriedly raised the coat over my head and approached him.
“Ethan, get under the coat quickly!”
His long fingers grasped my wrist roughly, causing the coat to fall into the muddy water. Staring in dismay at the soaked coat, I felt him pull me tightly into his arms.
“Ethan…?”
