Rick, are you secretly laughing at me inside?
Well, it doesn't matter. I'll just keep doing what I need to do.
The sun slowly set, signaling that it was time to wrap things up. As I stepped out of the tea house and waited for my carriage, Rick approached me and asked, "Is that charity concert open to anyone?"
"The front-row tickets are prioritized for the nobles. Not because it's particularly special, but more like a shared pain concept."
"Haha! You have such a funny way of putting things. Considering that, you've been preparing the play quite seriously. Could it turn out to be surprisingly good?"
"Well, no one knows. Would you like me to send you a ticket?"
"...."
The playful guy suddenly shut his mouth. Did I go too far?
"I wasn't insisting you come. Was it too much for me to say that?"
"That's not it!"
"Oh, no need for excuses. If you don't want to attend, just say later, 'There must've been an issue with the mail,' after not showing up."
"...."
"Of course, Maria, I'll hand-deliver your ticket."
"I'll definitely go!" Maria declared confidently.
Moments later, Rick mumbled his agreement.
"I'll come too. I'll make time for it."
Yeah, sure.
The opera meeting ended on a fairly satisfying note.
Even after that gathering, I occasionally met with Maria to watch plays and refine the lyrics.
Honestly, I preferred opera over plays, but I could tell Maria felt burdened by the price of opera tickets, so I let it slide.
It wasn't exactly like substituting chicken with pheasant—it felt more like swapping drumsticks for wings.
It turned out to be unexpectedly helpful.
"There are actually quite a few plays with a high proportion of songs."
Was this 'Singspiel'?
Also called "song-play," it's considered the ancestor of musicals. If I recall correctly, the genre emerged as a lighter alternative to opera, favored by non-noble classes who had little attachment to the elitism of traditional opera.
"Then again, not all nobles are necessarily familiar with opera."
Keep it light.
Everyone loves a simple and fun story.
"Not that I'm capable of creating an opera anyway."
On another note, I had assumed Rick would naturally join us on our play-watching outings.
But after our first day at the opera, he was nowhere to be seen.
"Rick hasn't been showing up lately. I thought he'd join us sometimes."
"I heard he's really looking forward to the charity concert. He said he wants to watch it without knowing any spoilers."
"Wow, really? I'll have to work hard, then."
Of course, I didn't take those words at face value.
I'd bet a gold coin or two that he won't even show up to the concert.
Not just because he doesn't seem interested in opera, but because Rick's biggest obstacle would undoubtedly be—
"Dory. Even Lord Arthur, the young duke, seems to be anticipating the performance. He wrote to me recently saying he's curious about it."
Arthur himself.
Maria's face bloomed like a radiant flower as she said this.
"That's great. I'll make sure to personally deliver the tickets to Lord Arthur."
"Thanks for thinking of that!"
Even though the original storyline's climax and resolution were completely derailed, this couple seemed to be doing fine.
'Sigh… Fine. As long as you're happy.'
"At this point, it doesn't matter if the protagonist couple breaks up; it wouldn't affect Tristan's redemption arc."
Although it might affect Rick's eventual downfall a little more.
'It's better for him not to be strung along with false hope.'
Anyway, I could only wish for Rick to move on from his unspoken heartbreak in his own way.
Meanwhile, the ladies assisting me with the concert planning welcomed my ideas.
"Is this the new script? If I take on this role, does that mean I won't have to sing?"
"The songs are much simpler now! …But is it really okay to change this much?"
Instead of a direct answer, I responded with a serene smile.
"It'll all be over in a few minutes on stage. Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess, has graciously agreed to overlook such a short duration."
"Her Royal Highness did?"
While I never felt outright dismissed before, the reaction was noticeably different when a high-ranking person was mentioned.
Even the ladies who previously sighed at my amateur scriptwriting began to focus intently on my lines.
It was a little annoying, but it was still a welcome change.
"Feel free to suggest improvements anytime. I'm still learning and revising as I go, since I don't have much experience with theater."
"That's surprisingly entertaining. It was hard to understand when it was just abstract lyrics, but now that there are lines and dialogue, I can grasp the story."
"I agree, Lady Redfield! All those philosophical terms made it confusing, but when you break it down, it's just a love story… And our part is about noble ladies being jealous of a pretty singer."
The ladies sighed in frustration in unison.
It was blatantly a scene comparing Pearl Snow to us.
That's one part of the script I couldn't do anything about. There's an overarching plot, and I can't just rewrite the story on a whim.
…Though it's not like there's no solution.
"I'm considering how to adjust the direction of that scene. Leaving it as it is would be a blow to our pride."
"Huh? Not the script… but the direction?"
"If I change the script now, you won't have enough time to memorize new lines. Adjusting the tone of the direction alone can create a significant difference."
Though they didn't seem entirely convinced by my explanation, they nodded as if trusting me and returned to practice. A mix of pride and pressure washed over me.
'I have to do well.'
For the people who believe in me.
(T/N: Queen behavior much?)
After intense practice, the ladies left one by one, looking much more confident than on the first day.
Meanwhile, I still had work to do. I had bought a ticket to a play for some last-minute studying.
'I hope it's an interesting one.'
There was still some time before the show. I decided to take a leisurely stroll to the library.
'Libraries managed by others are the best!'
But a few minutes after crossing the corridor with light steps, my pace grew heavy as though weighed down by chains.
I'd come across someone I wasn't eager to see.
"…Good day, Your Highness."
Tristan. My fiancé.
The man who ended a visit I begged for after only ten minutes and made it clear he wasn't interested in my well-being.
He nodded.
"Thanks to you, I've been well. So, it's true you frequent the royal library."
"Oh, I suppose Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess must have mentioned it. Yes, that's correct. Is there a book you're looking for…?"
Before I could finish speaking, he gestured at me with his chin—a motion impossible to misinterpret.
"Were you waiting for me? Is there something you need?"
If he dares say something like 'Does one need a reason to meet their fiancée?', I'll whack his face with the thickest book in the library. No, that's too mild—I'll slice between his fingers with every page of that thickest book.
But instead, Tristan uttered something even more bizarre than my imagination.
"Well… I was wondering if we could have tea together. After you finish your business in the library, of course."
I don't have time for you. Naturally, I have other plans.
"Thank you for the sweet offer, but I already have a prior engagement at the theater. I'm afraid I won't be able to make time."
"The theater? …With whom?"
Unexpectedly, his expression grew serious.
Why? If I say Maria, are you planning to follow us?
Maria had claimed he no longer showed interest in her, but I couldn't trust that entirely.
Fortunately, it wasn't Maria I had plans with.
"I'm going with my maid."
"Your maid? Isn't that the same as going alone?"
"It's not for her to assist me—I really bought two tickets. Watching a play is more enjoyable when shared."
"An unusual hobby."
"That's why, no matter what sweet desserts Your Highness has prepared today, I won't be able to join you for tea. I'm sorry, as I'm sure you've gone out of your way to make time."
I bowed gracefully and began inching toward the library.
But just before the library doors opened, Tristan followed and spoke again.
"Could I join you for that play?"