Editor 77

But neither of the two looked like a crazed murderer.

‘Of course, it’s not like a murderer walks around with “I’m the culprit” written on their forehead… The cranky old man in the front row is a high-level mage, and the other is a young knight standing in the stool seats. He’s here with his lover. Still, I’ll make a note of them.’

Cleio leaned his head toward Ishiel. The theater was noisy before the performance started, but he lowered his voice just in case.

“Did you see anyone suspicious? What do you think?”

“There only seem to be ordinary ether sensitives. But since some might arrive late between acts, we should stay alert.”

“To me, it seems only that white-haired old man up front and that tall young man standing in the stool seats have higher levels?”

“Stool seats?”

It seemed Ishiel had noticed the old man up front, but not the young man in the back, as she turned her gaze.

“I’ve seen that one before. He’s a Capital Guard knight. Good catch.”

“What.”

Cleio, wondering if Behemoth had found anything, poked the cat in the side.

Behemoth, after a big yawn, shook his chubby head.

“Myaaaaak (Those two are all there are in the theater.)”

While Ishiel and Cleio stayed focused on their original purpose, a page brought Ekarat rosé champagne and a berry bowl of autumn raspberries on a silver tray.

Knowing Behemoth was a drinker, Dione moved the raspberries onto the tray and poured a shallow serving of champagne into the berry bowl.

Behemoth sprang from Cleio’s lap and plunged his snout into the bowl.

Lick, slurp

But after just two licks, he pushed the bowl away with a paw.

“Eung, nyat kekek (What is this? So-called famous wine, but it tastes awful. The aroma’s weak and the finish is muddy.)”

“Is the wine not to your liking, Mot?”

“Myak! Myakmyak! (Anyway, most rosés aren’t worth their price, even the expensive ones.)”

Sluuuurp, gulp

“I see, Mot. No wonder it doesn’t suit your taste. Well, what would a royal legal advisor who doesn’t even drink know about wine~.”

Though to others it just sounded like a cat’s meow, Dione somehow perfectly understood the judgmental alcoholic cat.

She set her glass down, refreshed her palate with a raspberry, and popped one into Behemoth’s mouth as well.

“Are you both finished checking?”

“Yes.”

“We are.”

“The taste may be lacking, but let’s have a glass of champagne for the mood?”

As always, Ishiel declined the alcohol.

Cleio hesitated over whether to accept, but Behemoth shook his head vigorously, signaling there was no need to even try it.

‘It’s not that I think it’ll taste bad, but…’

“I’ll pass as well. I have things to do tonight.”

“Really! So picky. I told you, you’re all so fussy about wine.”

Dione drained her own glass, and, feeling warmer, unfastened the cameo that held her fur in place.

As the white sable fur slid down, a cream-colored evening dress was revealed underneath.

Pearl earrings, a necklace of three strands of pearls with square-cut diamonds—everything was elegant.

The skin above the daring neckline was more luminous than the pearls. Contrasted with her tiny waist, her silhouette was as lush as a freshly bloomed flower.

Cleio almost blushed without realizing. To keep his composure as a civilized man, he fixed his eyes firmly on the stage.

Fortunately, the performance was about to begin.

From the orchestra pit, unseen from the audience, an oboe’s A note cut through the murmur of noise.

Soon, the instruments finished their noisy tuning, and the minor-key overture revealed a foreboding theme.

Cleio was impressed.

‘Wow, even a music ignoramus like me can tell. This is nothing like listening from the third floor of Sejong Grand Theater.’

He’d only ever seen an opera performance twice in his life, both with invitations.

But even though the world had changed, opera’s essence was the same.

He hadn’t even opened the envelope for “The Lord of the Highlands” that Dione had bought him, but had no trouble understanding the story.

In the northern highlands, where only fierce winters continue, a cold white castle like ice forms the stage backdrop.

A thousand-year-old vampire lord and a young maiden sent as a sacrifice fall in love. Lord Arsenie, after overcoming misunderstandings and conflict, finally gains Luminită’s true love.

But when he tries to take her as his bride, Luminită’s brother comes to the castle to rescue his sister.

She resists, insisting the lord must keep his promise, but misunderstandings ensue, and when the lord returns from the forest with a wedding gift, he believes the maiden has betrayed him.

The lights came up after Act 2.

To Cleio’s left, Ishiel was scanning the theater for any new arrivals with the same calm face as before.

To his right, Dione’s cheeks were wet with tears, and she was busy dabbing at them with her handkerchief.

Well, opera was the soap opera of its day.

And since she was a big fan of the original, Dione’s reaction was understandable.

“Lady Dione, what did you think of the play? Did you like it?”

“What do you mean, what do I think! It was beyond imagination! Better than I hoped! Do you see that man in the gray suit at the far right of the first floor? That’s Jules Turner, the critic from the Lundane Standard. He’s pretending not to cry, but he’s wiping his eyes.”

“If even I can tell it’s amazing, then I guess it really is.”

“Mrs. Morgan’s script expresses the original brilliantly, but more than anything, the actor playing Arsenie takes the show to another level. If your heart isn’t made of stone, you can’t help but be moved. Remember when he sang the betrayal aria? I thought my heart would break!”

Truly, the lead was the lead—when he started singing, it felt like a whirlwind swept the stage. Even the heroine faded into the background.

Cleio flipped through the program to check the singer’s name.

“But why is he wearing a half-mask? Neither Luminită nor the chorus wears anything like that.”

At first, it was almost absurd. The leading man came out wearing both a hat and a mask.

‘Once he started singing, I forgot all about the mask, but still, as a performer, isn’t it odd?’

Dione closed her fan, cupping it in both hands, and flashed her signature catlike smile reserved for gossip.

“I hear he has burns across his forehead and eyes. There’s a rumor that he was a commoner who seduced a proper lady, and when her husband found them, he set a fire and left him scarred.”

“Ah… I see.”

‘What is this, Phantom of the Opera? Burns and a mask?’

Since neither this character nor incident had been mentioned in the previous manuscript, the unpredictability of the plot bothered him all the more.

“Geheim is his nickname, his full name is Geheimnis. He speaks with a northern accent, hard to hear in the capital. I suspect he was born in a cold land.”

“A suspicion? Even Lady Dione doesn’t know everything about everyone?”

“Exactly. Journalists and gossips have dug into his past relentlessly, but there’s nothing on record. He suddenly appeared in the capital a few months ago and sold out a season of tickets at astronomical prices—a man of mystery.”

Just then, Ishiel tapped Cleio.

Several jeweled ladies from the second-floor box were leaving their seats. They gathered on the landing connected to backstage instead of the powder room.

“Do you know why they’re hurrying away?”

“Lady Kishion, they’re going to greet the lead actor in the dressing room. They’ll give gifts, and if they’re lucky, might get more than a thank you.”

Dione winked.

Ishiel, not understanding, blinked twice, hoping for further explanation.

“Lady, please, let’s not…”

‘Why would you drop a showbiz sponsor story on a 17-year-old prosecutor who lives by the book?!’

“I only said it because she seemed curious, ahaha. They’ll all be back before Act 3, so don’t worry.”

“If there’s a clear purpose behind it, I understand.”

Unfazed, Ishiel returned to her surveillance. It was lucky she was oblivious to that sort of thing.

“But it is odd. Usually, ladies of that status wouldn’t go themselves. It’s not dignified for several of them to crowd into a tiny dressing room.”

“That just means this Geheim singer is exceptionally attractive.”

“My, you’re quick, young master. The last one to leave was Countess Croft, who normally doesn’t support singers. She broke her rule this time.”

“A man said to have half his face ruined by burns has captivated all the society ladies of the capital. That’s surprising.”

“But you heard, didn’t you? Even his choppy northern accent, when he sings, sounds cold and alluring like the winter wind from the northern sea. Now that he’s playing Lord Arsenie, his popularity will soar even higher!”

As a man, Cleio couldn’t quite relate, but he did understand that this singer and the role of the vampire lord were a perfect match.

Deng deng, deng deng

The attendants rang bells to signal the end of intermission.

Before he knew it, the third act began.

The stage background turned into a dark forest.

In the snow-covered, cold woods, Luminită returns barefoot and hears the lord’s cry of betrayal.

Though she trembles in fear, she takes step after step toward the despairing man.

The angry lord, breaking his vow, tries to bite the neck of the Luminită who embraces him….

“[Grant me immortality. Give me eternity with you.]”

Luminită tilts her white neck toward her lover’s lips. The lord, steeped in regret, tries to let her go.

“[Immortality is a curse; mortality is a blessing. Eternity fades every moment, and fiery love turns to ash.]”

“[If I’m with you, even fading will be dazzling, even ashes will be sweet.]”

Knowing immortality is a curse, the lord tries to let the girl go, but she pulls him to her.

In that moment, the plump middle-aged soprano became the pitiful seventeen-year-old Luminită, and the young tenor became the lord who ruled darkness for a thousand years.

Luminită, bitten on the neck, falls limp, but soon revives with vigor.

Embraced by the lord who made her a vampire, she sings an aria of ecstasy.

The duet of the lord and the maiden who has joined his kin was the climax of the play.

Cleio, forgetting even his duty to observe the audience, was swept up in the performance.

At that moment,

As if to admonish Cleio for forgetting his job, “Promise” sent up a message.

[―Public Skill: ‘Fascination’]

[―Bestows a powerful charm upon the user’s specific action ?□∞ ◈‡? …]

‘What? The message is corrupted?!’

Beneath the garbled message, the singer lifted his head fiercely.

Having belted out the aria’s final line with tremendous volume, the singer stood tall, not even out of breath, and stared straight at Cleio.

The audience, frozen by the overwhelming performance, erupted into applause a beat late.

“Waaaaa!”

“Bravo!”

“Whiiioooooo!”

The singer humbly bowed to the applauding crowd. Before he knew it, the strange hostility and the message had both dissipated.

But with “Perception” active, Cleio had clearly seen it.

‘That singer! For a moment, his eyes glowed red!’