-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Sera Wigo
-----------------------------------------------------------------
* * *
Sera Wigo.
The commoner-born actress was currently the most sought-after woman in the capital.
The play in which she starred as the female lead, *Helga's Death*, had already surpassed five thousand cumulative viewers just one month after opening.
"Oh, Simon. My sun, my moon. My breath, my every moment. My longing for you cannot be quenched even by death."
The entire audience held their breath, eyes fixed on Sera Wigo onstage.
After delivering her final line, Sera plunged the dagger into her own chest and collapsed in a heap, her face contorted in agony.
'Whoa, she's really good.'
I'd been impressed by her emotionally charged delivery, but that final suicide scene was shockingly masterful—just as the rumors had promised.
'My blood's boiling!'
Having debuted as a child actor and spent more than half my short life as a performer.
I'd first broken into show business thanks to my mixed-race exotic looks, but acting turned out to be my true calling anyway. How could I not get fired up watching a master actress after all this time?
It wasn't just me. The whole theater sat in stunned silence, lost in the lingering emotion.
"She's amazing, right?"
"Eh, not bad."
Dad, slouched beside me with his arms crossed, gave an indifferent nod.
'A talent like that, killing herself young. Showbiz's ugly underbelly is the same here or back home.'
I clicked my tongue to myself, staring at the darkened stage.
The genius actress Sera Wigo would take her own life in just a few years—before thirty, just like this play's heroine.
Gossipmongers bandied about theories on why, but no one truly knew what drove a woman that young to such a choice.
'But I know exactly what happened.'
Her performance today had confirmed it for me.
'She couldn't keep doing the acting she loved and got stuck living a life she hated. Of course she wanted to die.'
At the height of her fame, she became some old count's mistress and retired.
Beautiful commoner actresses in the capital often ended up as wealthy nobles' mistresses, trading their careers for easy lives.
So when Sera announced her retirement to become one, her fans were disappointed but saw it as par for the course—the standard path for any popular actress.
'It wasn't about wanting comfort. It was half blackmail. Leeches like that must still be after her.'
As someone who'd lived as an actress, I could tell just from watching her. She was the real deal—a woman who loved acting and took pride in her craft.
But this noble society wasn't forgiving enough to let a pretty commoner actress pursue her passion freely.
'This time around, let her revel in the acting she loves.'
I shot to my feet to set my plan in motion. Dad, leaning back casually in his chair, looked up at me.
"Wait here just a sec. I'm gonna go get Sera's autograph."
"What? Hold on..."
Ignoring his fluster, I hurried toward the backstage waiting room.
A crowd had already gathered in front of it—fans desperate for even a handshake.
I nudged the arm of the guy at the very back with my fan.
"Mind making some room?"
My young girl's voice drew puzzled looks, and everyone turned.
I wove through the now-hushed crowd straight to the troupe staffer guarding the door.
"I'm Rubettria Diorus. I've been a fan of Sera Wigo's for ages. Mind if I pop in to say hi?"
"Ah!"
His eyes went wide at my name.
He dashed inside and returned in under a minute.
"Lady Diorus, we're infinitely honored. Right this way."
"Thanks."
Power really was everything.
I left the crowd's envious stares behind and stepped into the waiting room.
Rows of vanities with mirrors lined the walls. Sera sat primly in one ordinary corner of the space.
She greeted me with a faintly flustered air.
"It's an honor, Duchess."
'Wow, she's even prettier up close. No wonder she's such a star.'
Early twenties—the peak of beauty. Sera was a striking rarity, with lustrous blonde hair and porcelain skin.
I took in her bold, expressive features with wonder.
"Nice to meet you. I know it's rude to barge in like this, but I just had to see your face, so forgive the intrusion."
Her eyes widened at my polite opener.
No matter how big a star, a commoner was a commoner. And actresses? Just pretty clowns there to entertain nobles.
She'd never been shown respect by highborns, so my demeanor must've thrown her.
She stared blankly for a moment, then flailed her hands in a panic.
"Oh, no, Duchess—it's a huge honor. Come anytime. Your seat's right over here..."
"Thanks for that. Your performance was incredible today. That Helga monologue in the middle? Perfection."
I settled into the seat she offered.
"Helga knows she should bury her feelings for Simon, but her desire wins out and torments her. Personally, I think a play like *Helga's Death* lives or dies on capturing that anguish of a woman in love."
Sera froze across from me.
"That's why everyone raves about the final suicide, but I see it differently. When she resolves to stay by his side anyway, calling her own heart greed—her agonized confession. That monologue's the real climax."
"..."
"Maybe I'm off base, but it felt like you poured everything into it. Those facial expressions were masterful."
A spark of interest lit Sera's face as she listened, dazed.
Her eyes gleamed.
"...You're right. Helga's inner turmoil is massive. Her monologue hit me hardest when I first read the script. She loves him, so she has to let him go—for his sake, she knows that—but she can't, because of her selfishness. The pain it causes."
Hearing her rattle on like a fish to water, I felt a pang of bitterness.
'A born actress who lives for this, rotting away young as some old noble's mistress...'
"Oh, and that bit where Helga pushes Simon's fiancée Isabel down the stairs? Great, but I loved the lead-up even more."
"The lead-up...?"
"Her hesitation right before. Hatred for Isabel clashing with guilt, that chaotic inner turmoil—flawless. I was so locked in, I barely registered Isabel tumbling down."
Sera's eyes went huge.
"Exactly! Skimp on that, and Helga's just a flat, lovesick villain."
"Totally."
"You've got to sell the sin to the audience in a way that feels... understandable. So I drill that scene over and over, even before bed."
Beaming with excitement, she gazed at my amused smile, overcome.
"I've heard tons of feedback, but yours feels... different. You zeroed in on exactly what I obsessed over..."
Pleased yet astonished, she went on.
"I was honored just by your visit. Never dreamed you'd be such a theater buff. I'm thrilled. Thank you."
"Hey, thank *you* for the stellar show."
I'd debuted at six and rolled through life as an actress. If my eye for it matched a layperson's, I'd have issues.
Sera, delighted to click with someone at last, chattered on happily.
"Duchess, if it's not too forward—may I treat you to dinner? We could talk more..."
That was when it happened.
Knock knock. An urgent rap at the door, followed by a troupe staffer's voice.
"S-Sera. Count Ergeti's on his way..."
Sera's face hardened visibly.
Count Ergeti. The old noble who'd taken her as his mistress in her past life.
'Bet he's the one who pushed her over the edge.'
Sera rose with a darkened expression and headed for the door. It flew open.
"Sera!"
"C-Count..."
The count barged in without a courtesy, looking a good twenty years Dad's senior at a glance.
His sleazy mug plastered with leers, he yanked Sera into a hug and buried his face in her neck.
'What the—is he insane?'
I jumped up and strode over.
"D-Don't. We have a guest here first."
Disgust and revulsion leaked through Sera's face despite her efforts to hide it.
Only then did the count notice me, muttering irritably at the unexpected obstacle.
"...What?"
His slimy hand still clutched her arm.
Stomach churning, I cracked my fan down sharply on his hand. *Thwack.*
"Eep."
"Wh-what the..."
The count jerked back in shock. Sera gasped.
I let my annoyance show unfiltered.
"Let go of her."