Maylily - Chapter 86

“Looks like we’ll have to cancel tonight’s performance, Director.”

It was the first thing the stage director, who’d gone into rehearsal ahead of the evening show, blurted out as he came rushing into the company director’s office.

Martin Fritz, who’d been organizing last week’s revenue data, jerked his head up and asked sharply, “Cancel the performance? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“Vanessa Fritz, the prima donna for today’s performance, came down with a severe sore throat. She’s insisting she can go onstage, but there’s no way her throat cond….”

“I, can, do it.”

Vanessa, who’d come in right behind him, cut in while the stage director was explaining how serious things were.

“I have to, do it… no matter what.”

The stage director was right. With her throat completely hoarse, Vanessa couldn’t even speak properly, let alone sing. Cold sweat dotted her flushed, feverish face.

An argument broke out between the stage director and Vanessa over whether she’d perform. Watching them, Martin, a headache coming on, pressed his temple and checked the performance schedule. Today’s work was “Agnes.”

“Have you contacted the singer who played Agnes last season?”

“I already sent someone to check, but she’s not in Roden right now. And there’s no one among the supporting roles who can replace her, either.”

The stage director shook his head as if resigned, but this wasn’t something they could give up on so easily.

This season, as the newly appointed soloists were receiving strong reviews, the audience numbers were growing by the day, and they couldn’t throw cold water on it with a cancellation. On top of that, “Agnes” was a popular piece with one of the highest seat sales rates, so the expected loss from canceling was especially enormous.

As Martin paced by the window, turning over solutions, one person suddenly came to mind. Maylily, who’d shown her face at rehearsals for almost every production all through last month. That enthusiasm, extraordinary enough to call it excessive, might just make her the savior who could pull the Roden Opera Company out of this crisis.

“Have you checked the members in the practice rooms, too?”

“No, not that far….”

No way. Vanessa, who’d been silently listening to Martin and the stage director, realized what Martin was thinking, and her eyes flashed up sharply.

How did she get to this position! She didn’t want to give up even a single stage to Maylily. That one time could mean her role was taken from her for good. It wasn’t a rare thing in the theater.

“No! You can’t, you absolutely can’t, Un…cle. I’d rather you cancel the perf…ormance….”

“You know how big the loss is every time a performance is canceled. As the company director, I have a responsibility to prevent that loss, Vanessa.”

Ever since Vanessa gained a patron, Martin tried to treat her as generously as possible, but when it came to revenue, there was no room for compromise. Martin dismissed Vanessa’s objection at once and shifted his gaze to the stage director.

“Let’s check the practice rooms. There might be someone suitable there.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

After nodding with a grave expression, the stage director left the office and went straight upstairs to where the private practice rooms were. After a fruitless exchange with three or four members, he knocked on the next practice room door. A faint voice came from inside.

“Yes, come in.”

When he opened the door, Maylily, sitting in front of the piano, turned to look at him.

“Hello.”

“Maylily, can you sing the recitative and aria from ‘Agnes’?”

In his urgency, the stage director barely acknowledged her greeting and asked point-blank. Maylily blinked a couple of times as if taking in the situation, then slowly nodded.

“If you mean the role of Agnes, I can.”

“From start to finish, all of it?”

“Yes.”

“From memory?”

“Yes.”

Her calm answers were full of confidence. The role of Agnes in “Agnes” was one of the roles Maylily had wanted to take for a long time, so she’d looked through the score countless times, to the point of memorizing even her counterpart’s songs.

And with this season approaching, she’d observed rehearsals to learn Agnes’s blocking and movements, and she’d also thought through how she would express the character’s personality and emotions.

“Sing ‘Eternal Season.’”

The signature aria of Agnes, Eternal Season. Before the first line of the song, which began without hesitation, had even ended, the dark worry that had settled on the stage director’s face turned into a bright smile. He snapped his fingers sharply and said, “Maylily, you’ll have to be Agnes tonight.”

***

The lobby of the Roden Opera House, decorated with an old-fashioned ceiling painting and dazzling marble, was bustling with people who’d come to watch the evening performance.

Among them, Vivian, who’d been following behind Deborah and the Marchioness of Cheshire as they stepped forward first, looked back at Hugh, who was escorting her. Dressed in a black evening coat with his hair neatly swept back, the man’s handsome face, as always, flaunted an unrivaled presence among the crowd.

“I heard you’ve been very busy lately, so thank you for making time.”

“No matter how busy I am, I should set aside at least this much time for you.”

Hugh faced Vivian and smiled like a gentleman. His plain attitude, as if tonight’s company was her rightful due, pleased Vivian.

“I also promise that I’ll fulfill my responsibility as your spouse and as the father of the children we’ll have in the future.”

As if guaranteeing that promise, Hugh had been faithfully attending all sorts of events as Vivian’s partner ever since the autumn social season began, showing the image of a sincere fiancé.

It was why Vivian decided to remain by Hugh’s side even though the conversation they’d had in Prowden’s garden left a deep wound on her pride. If she just kept to the line he’d drawn, a married life with dignity and grace would be possible. Hugh instilled that conviction in Vivian through his actions.

No matter how many mistresses he had, Hugh Skaard was still the best possible groom. The position at a man’s side like that would be filled quickly by someone else even if it wasn’t hers. Rather than watching that and regretting it, she’d rather endure Hugh’s mistress.

In a marriage formed by weighing each other’s gains and losses, wanting an exclusive romantic relationship was greed. Vivian finally accepted that fact.

If Hugh kept his mistress thoroughly outside the boundaries of married life, she’d turn a blind eye to his mistress. And Vivian believed Hugh would do exactly that.

Vivian pressed her hand, resting on Hugh’s arm, and climbed the stairs. After receiving belated congratulations from those who’d seen the recently announced engagement article, she arrived at the box seats. Vivian and Hugh took their seats in the back row behind Deborah and the Marchioness of Cheshire, who were sitting side by side.

They’d deliberately chosen a performance that Maylily Aile didn’t appear in. She had no desire to sit next to her fiancé and listen to the song sung by his mistress. Hugh didn’t insist on it either.

When it was time for the performance, the lights dimmed and the orchestra played the overture. The orchestral melody, full of a hopeful mood, continued for several minutes.

At the end of it, the curtain on the stage finally rose. After the lively chorus of nobles attending a ball ended, a blonde female singer came to the center of the stage and sang the recitative. It was a short passage, but it was enough to recognize the owner of the voice. It was Maylily.

Vivian turned to the side with a somewhat stiff expression. Probably because he’d noticed the prima donna’s identity before she had, the man’s lips held a faint, unreadable smile.

The unknown prima donna, who’d appeared like a comet, led the opera with the skill of someone who’d stood in that place for a long time. At the same time, with a fresh charm and expressiveness different from the Agneses of the past, she completely immersed the audience.

The performance had already reached its climax, and the accompaniment to ‘Eternal Season’ began to flow from the orchestra pit.

Of the season that once shone brightly

the final flower falls.

As the clear voice rang out over the orchestral melody, the audience all held their breath and the flow of air changed. Maylily stood among the white petals scattering around a lush tree, wearing a pure white dress.

Even if the petals scatter and vanish,

the fragrance of love remains.

Maylily gently placed her hand on the tree and turned her head toward the seats. Her eyes sank into a wistful longing, as if reminiscing about a lover she’d parted from.

What the silence of sorrow has brought to bloom

is an unbreakable promise of eternity.

As Maylily reached the climax, the notes she formed with powerful, clean staccato sprang up like droplets, rising higher and higher. Soon, the sound reached the highest part of the theater, spread along the gilded ceiling and walls, and dyed the seats with a deep lingering resonance.

As long as spring returns and flowers bloom,

our season will be eternal.

Maylily’s song, where fragility and strength, sorrow and joy coexisted, was Agnes herself, swept along by fate yet never ultimately submitting.

“Brava!”

“Encore!”

When the song ended, passionate cheers and applause burst out like fireworks. Hugh stared quietly at Maylily as she smiled toward the audience with a face like someone dreaming.

Her blue eyes, soaked in joy and emotion, sparkled brilliantly as if they held countless stars.

She was clearly right there beneath his feet. Yet it felt as if the woman was looking down at him from a place so high and distant that he couldn’t reach it no matter what he did. It was a strange feeling Hugh had never once felt toward Maylily, no, toward anyone.

In that moment, Hugh realized it. Maylily onstage was someone he couldn’t confine within his name. Then he realized it again. The reason Maylily had clung so desperately to music all summer.

It was her silent struggle, refusing to settle within Hugh’s shadow and trying to break free. During the summer they’d spent together, she’d put on an obedient act with that pretty face, smiled as if she’d been tamed. And behind his back, she’d been plotting something quite cute and brazen.

But a flower is, by nature, something that can’t move.

And you’re my flower, Maylily.

A red curtain was coming down over the stage filled with heat. Hugh’s eyes, staring at Maylily disappearing beyond it, burned coldly.