chapter 27
I’ve always loved the view from my office in the evening.
The sky painted with mysterious hues of pale pink, the clouds drifting lazily by, the long shadows cast by the trees.
I was humming softly to myself, immersed in the quiet mood, when I pulled out the letter Lady Martis had sent me earlier that morning.
“It seems the one doing the wailing won’t be me, but Polius instead.”
I chuckled when I heard the news that Polius had decided to sell the building — without even conducting any prior research or drafting a business plan.
I had suggested to Lady Martis that she try to egg him on, but I didn’t actually expect it to work.
[Most of the major content in the Empire is already under exclusive contract with Lady Clotilde, yet he jumped in without even checking? What a fool.]
And apparently, along with selling the building, he also decided to disband the Veldert Theater Troupe.
‘So that means the members of the Veldert troupe will have nowhere to go now.’
I headed to Tower Lord Damian’s office, dismissed his attendants, and shared the news.
“If the Veldert troupe is disbanding, I’d like to recruit their people into Black Moon. Would that be acceptable?”
“……”
A flicker of light passed briefly through Damian’s eyes before vanishing.
“Is that decision meant as some sort of consideration for me?”
He fixed me with his calm, steady gaze.
“No — I just think they’re talented. Before they scatter to other places, I want to bring them in all at once. It’d be better to approach them now.”
“……They are talented.”
He gave a short reply. And he was right.
I wasn’t doing this out of sentimentality or consideration for the man in front of me.
‘Polius thinks The 13th Knight succeeded because of good circumstances, but the truth is, the Veldert troupe members were exceptional. There’s a reason they were once the most acclaimed in the Empire.’
It was only because public attention had shifted toward Black Moon that their audience had dwindled. Given time, they would’ve risen back up again.
“But since we’re focusing on the video crystal business now, is there really any need to hire a theater troupe?”
Most people believed that the era of video crystals was coming, making traditional theater unprofitable.
But I didn’t see it that way.
“No — do you remember what I said before? For now, we’re merely recording stage plays onto video crystals… but a time will come when that alone won’t be enough.”
As I spoke, the doubt in Damian’s eyes gradually shifted to understanding.
“……So, what we need are talented people.”
Even without me explaining further, Damian understood my meaning right away.
“You said before that you wanted to start producing original video works exclusive to Black Moon.”
He nodded, then stood up from his seat.
“In that case, the Veldert troupe members are the best fit. Since we have some time now, shall we go together?”
“Oh my.”
I smiled brightly.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but isn’t it a bit late in the day to make a recruitment visit?”
“Ah…”
He awkwardly sat back down, and I couldn’t help the corner of my mouth twitching upward.
Seeing that, Damian muttered in mild embarrassment:
“You’re the one who said we should contact them before they scatter, Miss Clotilde.”
“My, my, our dear Tower Lord must be rather impatient then, hm? Well, this is the perfect time for distraught troupe members to be drowning their sorrows in drink.”
I chuckled and reached for the door Damian had just opened.
“Then, shall we at least go meet them?”
“……Very well.”
Damian gave me a long look before sighing playfully.
As he reached for the door beside me, he leaned in slightly — his face drawing unexpectedly close.
“Miss Clotilde, you can be quite mischievous.”
That low, pleasant voice I’d always liked brushed my ear, then faded away.
After whispering that, Damian straightened up and strode ahead, leaving me alone.
“Uh…”
It had only been a fleeting whisper while I held the door, yet somehow the afterglow lingered absurdly long.
As I rubbed the ear that had felt his breath, a thought struck me.
“Wait a minute — wasn’t he the one who just completely flustered me?”
* * *
The next evening, after meeting the assistant director at a lively tavern, Damian and I headed to a quiet, secluded lake — the opposite of last night’s scene.
The man we needed to meet had gone into hiding after the Veldert troupe’s disbandment notice, declaring his retirement. The only way to find him was to come here.
The weather was perfect — neither too hot nor too cold — with lush trees shading us from the sunlight and a refreshing breeze in the air.
A middle-aged man sat alone at the lake’s edge, his fishing rod tilted lazily over the water.
When we got close, it became clear he was more dozing than fishing.
“Oh? How did you even find me here?”
Startled by our footsteps, the man turned — it was Director Chillen, the lead director of the Veldert troupe.
“We asked around and heard you often take walks in this area these days.”
“Was it that rascal Julvre who told you?”
That was the assistant director we’d met the previous evening.
Chillen sighed, turning his body — and froze when his gaze landed on the man standing beside me.
His eyes went wide.
“L-Lord Damian?”
“You don’t have to call me that anymore.”
“But… why would you come here yourself…?”
Chillen’s eyes shook uncontrollably.
After all, Damian was the young master of the family that had sponsored the troupe — it must have struck him deeply.
‘He was still just a boy back then, but I heard he was the one who cared for the troupe the most while he was in the family.’
But his surprise didn’t last long. His face hardened again.
“I don’t know what you’re here to discuss, but I’m done with theater. I won’t be involved in that world anymore.”
I replied lightly.
“Yes, don’t be.”
“……!”
I could feel Damian turn sharply toward me in surprise.
To others, his face might still look as expressionless as ever, but after working with him for some time, I could tell the difference.
‘He must be confused hearing me say that, when I was the one insisting we recruit Chillen at all costs.’
Of course, the person most surprised was Chillen himself. He blinked in confusion.
“If you’re going to give up that easily, then why… No, never mind. If you understand, then I’ll—”
“Actually, what I want to make isn’t theater. It’s film.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“I’ve decided to call motion pictures that don’t require a stage ‘films.’”
“I don’t understand. Where else could you possibly show a play if not in a theater?”
“Oh, come on — we’re past the era when you could only watch moving images in a theater.”
Only then did he seem to recall who I was — the much-talked-about Lady Clotilde.
“Theater is wonderful, of course, but wouldn’t you like to create something new — a work set on a much broader stage, beyond the walls of the theater?”
Besides, with magical recording devices, we could try things never before possible.
In other words, with a brilliant director and cutting-edge equipment, we could create something far greater than The 13th Knight.
And naturally, it would also benefit Black Moon.
“Ah… there was someone who used to love experimenting with new things. Yet now, they can’t even touch this kind of equipment.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“You probably know him — he directed that famous The 13th Knight. Please convince him to direct again. He was deeply shaken when he heard about the Veldert troupe’s disbandment and swore never to work in directing again…”
Director Chillen — the man who had made the Veldert troupe what it was — hadn’t quit because he wanted to.
He still had a lingering passion for directing.
“I understand that you’ve felt disillusioned since the troupe’s disbandment, but… would you at least hear us out?”
I’d come prepared with an explanation I knew would intrigue him.
‘If I hadn’t heard what I did back then, I probably wouldn’t be this confident now.’
Back when Damian and I visited the video production site, someone had awkwardly brought up the Veldert troupe — making the atmosphere tense for a moment.
At the time, I wondered why on earth they’d mention the troupe in front of me, Polius’s ex-fiancée, and Damian, who’d renounced the Veldert family name — but it turned out to be quite useful.
Because of that, when I met the assistant director last night, I knew exactly whom to ask about Chillen.
He gladly told me this place when I said I wanted to meet him.
Even if Chillen himself denied it, those who’d watched him closely all knew the truth.
‘Still, this part isn’t mine to say.’
At my slight gesture, Damian, the Tower Lord, opened his mouth to speak.
