“I know. Mama had me trained by professionals when I was a little girl,” Julianna said. “How fortunate I was to learn the arts instead of wasting my girlhood away in dirt and dusty studies.” She gave a tinkling laugh, throwing her head back far enough to look at me.
I narrowed my eyes, wishing I could tip the contents of my crate on her frustratingly stunning gown. But I couldn’t risk losing my supplies. And there was no saying how long it would take to get the rest.
In the box on the second level, Ash stood out from the red velvet seats in a suit of emerald green. He was talking to the queen, but occasionally glanced down at the sea of boxes below. Duchess Wilhelmina and Narcissa sat behind him. I leaned forward, trying to catch his attention with my stare alone, but found that it only strained my eyes and garnered a contemptuous glare from Samantha.
“Next is Lady Victoria Strongfoot, playing the lute,” Madam Lucille announced.
Tori jumped up from her seat and squeezed past me and Olivia, a hefty lute in her hands. “Wish me luck, girls.”
She didn’t stay to hear our good lucks, though, and bounded down the steps.
“How do you think they’ll take it?” I murmured to Genevieve.
“I’m sure she’ll do fine,” she whispered.
We had woken up to the sound of Tori’s lively lute playing for over a week. Neither Genevieve nor I had the heart to tell Tori that her lute needed desperate tuning. Despite our urgings for her to borrow a palace lute, she insisted on using hers, which once belonged to Lord Strongfoot when he almost became a minstrel.
The sound of a stool dragging across the stage could be heard through soft murmurs. Tori arranged herself on the seat, lifted the lute onto her lap, and began to play.
The first notes were miraculously in tune. It sounded like a simplified version of an old folk song, but as Tori continued, the tempo increased and became a spirited jig one might hear at a tavern. Her fingers danced deftly across the strings. Despite the occasional sour note, it was altogether a pleasant and of course, very lively, performance.
“She’s doing well,” I said, surprised.
“She might’ve done better with another lute,” someone whispered to my left. I glanced over. It was Ash. I had hardly noticed him come in.
Genevieve and Olivia looked startled at the unexpected guest. Ash smiled at them in acknowledgment and ignored Samantha’s simpering gaze below him.
“Amarante. Care for some air?” he asked, tilting his head to the exit.
I nodded and said to Genevieve, “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Tucking my crate under my seat, I followed Ash out of the box. Luckily, we were sitting on the outer edges of the theatre so no one noticed us slip behind a curtained alcove near the exit.
“Do you have them?” I said, my palms dampening.
“Just caught them,” he said, pulling out a wooden box nestled beneath a corner table. There were several holes punched into the top.
I took it gingerly, hearing faint squeaks and movement inside. “Thank you. I suppose.”
“Don’t worry. They’re quite cuddly,” Ash said, grinning.
“They’re rodents!”
“Be glad they aren’t rats. Those are the worst. Once I found one the size of a cat inside my—”
“Please stop,” I groaned.
Ash dipped his head in acquiescence. “I’ll leave you to it then. If you need help, scream.”
“That’s comforting.”
With a bow and another smile, he was gone. I looked down at the box and suppressed another groan. Holding it away from me, I managed to return to my seat. My new possession drew inquiring stares from both Genevieve and Olivia.
“It’s for my act,” I whispered.
My stepsister smiled. “You’re still not going to tell us what it is?”
“You’ll find out.”
