Episode 12
After finishing what he had to say, Gilbert Klein ended the conversation on his own terms with a casual, “No more questions, right? Then I’ll see you next time,” and turned away.
As I watched his figure grow smaller, the last image of him lightly waving a hand at me lingered in my mind like an afterimage.
Only after he disappeared into the theater building without once looking back did I finally turn around myself.
If my memory was right, Miya was off today. I headed straight down the road to the left.
My slow steps gradually sped up, and by the time I neared her house, I was nearly running.
The moment I opened the front door, I shouted:
“Miya!”
Miya poked her head out from the kitchen and frowned.
“Why are you so late?”
I caught my breath and smiled faintly. She looked at me with a mix of concern and exasperation, then bustled back into the kitchen while continuing to talk.
“Anyway, sit down already. On a day like this, you should have a glass of wine. You barely drank at all while practicing your singing. Honestly, alcohol doesn’t affect your voice that much. You fuss too much.”
“Miya.”
When I called her name again, she lifted her head.
“We’ll drink next time.”
Then I told her the news she hadn’t even bothered to ask about—the day’s events.
“I got accepted into the Delgado Troupe.”
The brightness she had forced onto her face froze instantly. Worried she’d drop the cup she was holding, I hurried to take it from her and continued:
“I failed the audition. But the director gave me a separate offer to join.”
I set the cup down on the table, about to explain further—
When Miya, who had been standing like a statue, suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace. The force pushed me back a couple of steps, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around her in return.
We said nothing. We just held each other tight and laughed.
Her soft laugh echoed by my ear, and I buried my face in her shoulder, smiling silently.
After indulging in the joy for a long while, we finally calmed down and sat at the kitchen table.
“The theater owner? He said that? Gilbert Klein?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Miya narrowed her eyes.
“If it’s Gilbert Klein, he’s famous in that world. Never misses. Did you know that?”
I did know quite a bit about him, but because she had attended the conservatory, she knew more.
According to her, every artist sponsored under the ducal name of Gilbert Klein had remarkable potential.
He was someone who could see talent others couldn’t.
He gave wings to the unrecognized through financial support, and they all soared quickly.
At the Royal Conservatory, he had listened to all kinds of sounds and music, and through that, he developed not his own artistry, but a sharp eye for recognizing the artistry in others.
“He probably planned that weird audition too. His results are always solid, but the process is always a little… odd. Ah, and his personality is strange too.”
Finishing her explanation, Miya brightened again.
“In any case, if someone like him not only thought highly of you but even asked you to join the troupe with his name on the marquee—well, that says everything.”
I just smiled in response.
After that, Miya excitedly brought out a bottle of wine, and we enjoyed a late dinner together.
When we finished eating, I rose to go tell the last person who needed to hear the news.
“It’s late. Go tomorrow.”
“She’s probably waiting.”
Ignoring Miya’s attempt to stop me, I shook my head and left the house. Madam Sierra might seem indifferent to everything, but she definitely knew I had an audition today.
I hurried through the quiet streets and entered through the tailor shop’s back door. Madam Sierra was inside the closed shop.
She was sewing by the faint light of a single candle.
“Madam Sierra.”
“I thought you’d died, since I hadn’t heard from you for a month.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her sharp voice cut in without even a greeting. I approached and laid my hand gently over hers.
“I had the audition today.”
“I know. The whole street wouldn’t shut up about it.”
I smiled lightly.
“I failed.”
A sigh, long and heavy. I grinned mischievously.
“But I’ll still be able to keep singing.”
I explained everything again, as I had to Miya. Madam Sierra listened in silence and then suddenly asked:
“So you won’t be working at the shop anymore? And your home? That place has housing?”
I straightened my knees so I was no longer crouching to meet her gaze.
“Oh, Madam Sierra.”
Then I hugged her gently, because for a moment I had glimpsed a flicker of loneliness in her eyes.
“I only said I’d take a short break, so I’m sorry it turned out like this. And I’m sorry for breaking the promise I made on the first day. But the theater isn’t far from here, so I’m not moving. Those places are expensive. I don’t have that kind of money, Madam.”
She patted my arm.
“All right. Do that. Well—good for you. I’m a bit sad, but people should live the life they’re meant to live. If not, they’ll fall ill.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes.”
Then she picked up her needle again.
I watched her for a moment, then kept hugging her until she finally told me to get off because I was heavy.
And I thought—
I hope this really is my fate, just like she said. I hope this means I’m finally living my life properly.
—
A week later, holding the preliminary contract Miya had reviewed for me, I returned to the theater.
After telling the guard at the door my purpose, I was led to a different reception room than last time.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Amber.”
Nick Delgado, still cheerful as ever, skimmed through the revisions I’d brought and accepted all of them at once.
Contrary to Miya’s concerns that negotiations might drag on, the contract was finalized quickly.
“Anything else you’d like included?”
“…No.”
As soon as I answered, Nick tapped the contract into a neat stack and smiled broadly.
“Welcome to the troupe, Miss Amber.”
“Thank you.”
“Relax—you’re one of us now. Miss Dizz just arrived as well. Would you like to meet the other members?”
“Would that be all right?”
“Of course.”
He clasped one hand behind him and held the other out naturally. When I placed my hand on his, he gently helped me to my feet.
Then he opened the reception room door with practiced ease and chatted casually as we walked.
“They’re all good people. I’m sure they’ll be happy to meet you.”
I gave an awkward smile. I didn’t have many memories of being welcomed into any group.
Not when I was a maid, nor after I married Carlton and lived in the village.
Even at the tavern, besides Miya, I kept a comfortable distance from everyone. They weren’t particularly interested in me, nor did they care much.
I’d never truly belonged anywhere.
Thinking of the cold eyes of the other maids, my tentative smile faded.
Nick added,
“And as I mentioned before, if you’d like, we can provide all the training you feel you’re lacking. We have excellent teachers here.”
At the word *training*, I lifted my head.
“Who will teach me?”
Seeing my interest, Nick tilted his head slightly and answered:
“In our troupe, those who are more skilled naturally help those who are still lacking. Whoever sings better than you will be your teacher.”
It wasn’t a difficult concept. But the subtle smile on his face made it feel like there was more behind his words.
Just as I was about to ask, he suddenly stopped walking. I paused half a beat later and turned to look.
A large door stood in front of us—and a woman was standing there.
“Miss Dizz.”
She turned around. When she recognized Nick, she gave a polite nod.
“The staff led me here.”
Her gaze then shifted to me, sharp and questioning, as if asking *Who are you, and why are you here?* I hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Nick spoke first.
“Miss Dizz, this is Miss Amber, who also joined the troupe this season—just like you.”
“I thought I was the only one who passed the audition.”
“You are. We extended a separate offer to Miss Amber.”
“I see.”
Caroline Dizz’s eyes swept over me, quick and cool. Not exactly friendly.
I bowed my head.
Even after the introduction, she simply acknowledged it with a nod and didn’t speak to me, leaving a brief, awkward silence in the hallway.
“Well then, shall we go in?”
Just before the atmosphere soured, Nick clapped lightly and pushed the door open.
Caroline’s gaze drifted inside. I followed the two of them.
Inside was a theater much like the one used for the audition. Many people were gathered onstage, chatting among themselves.
“Director!”
Someone from the group called out, and all eyes turned toward us.
A woman sitting on the edge of the stage immediately ran over. Her deep pink hair rippled like waves as she moved.
In a high, bird-like voice, she shouted:
“I thought my neck would fall off from waiting! What took you so long?”
She grabbed Nick’s arm without hesitation. Then, noticing Caroline at his side, she exclaimed again:
“Oh my—so you’re the star of the audition. Miss Caroline!”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Lovely to meet you! I’m Charlotte Roubla. Please call me Charlotte. You graduated from the Royal Academy, right? I graduated two years ago!”
“I know, Miss Charlotte. Nice to meet you.”
When Caroline smiled faintly and nodded, Charlotte beamed and gently tugged her along.
“Come, come! I’ll introduce you to the others! There are other alumni too!”
Unlike my own introduction, the two of them melted naturally into the group as they walked toward the stage.
Once the whirlwind named Charlotte had passed, Nick and I were left staring at each other. He scratched his brow with a sheepish smile.
“Let’s go too, Miss Amber.”
“Yes.”
By the time I reached the stage, Caroline had already finished her introductions and dipped a graceful curtsy.
“No need for me to say much about Miss Dizz. She truly fits the role of future troupe leader, doesn’t she, Charlotte?”
Laughter rippled through the group.
“And actually, there’s one more person I’d like to introduce.”
He turned slightly and gestured to me. Only then did the others seem to notice my presence, their gazes full of curiosity and confusion.
“Hello, I’m Amber.”
I kept my introduction simple—familiar with atmospheres like this.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I thought you were theater staff….”
Charlotte hurried over, covering her mouth with both hands.
“It’s quite all right.”
“Are you joining the production team? Or assisting? Oh—costumes? We keep things very horizontal here, you know. Directors, orchestra, chorus—we all get along great. Team! Weren’t we hiring extra support recently?”
“Oh, that? We already hired someone.”
“Really?”
Charlotte tilted her head, puzzled, and the surrounding murmurs grew louder. I quietly clarified:
“I’m a singer. Soprano.”
The moment the words left my mouth, the atmosphere shifted.
Curiosity became bewilderment.
*See? I told you. I’ve never been welcomed by any group.*
The reaction was no surprise. And I knew exactly why.
