Duke Klaus
Following the resounding success of the premiere, The Curtain Rises became the hottest topic in high society. Even though none of the actors were known in Sirach, their performances and singing were nothing short of magnificent. The high proportion of dance and acting provided a constant spectacle, the stage direction was a fresh style never seen before, and the requirement to wear masks while watching only added to the intrigue.
Above all, there was the element of scarcity. The performances were held only twice a week, and because the seating capacity of the Rih Theater was so small, competition for tickets was fierce. Since staying ahead of trends in high society was a testament to one's power and influence, even nobles and wealthy magnates with no particular interest in opera jumped into the fray.
Connoisseurs like the Marquis of Zallier lamented, "Those who don't even know how to enjoy the art are sweeping up the seats just because it's the trend, leaving no room for those who truly wish to see it."
When word spread that the Rih Theater had rejected a proposal from the wealthy Viscount Schletz, who had offered to pour out bundles of money to secure seats, the theater's reputation soared even higher.
Of course, there were many who piled on harsh criticism.
"Tales of love and betrayal! Revenge! The content is utterly vulgar and even sensational!"
Regardless of the stance, it was a fact that high society was reacting violently to it. Lady Laila's reputation rose accordingly—not so much leaping as it was soaring.
"I heard Lady Laila discovered a completely unknown composer?"
"She hadn't even released a single song before The Curtain Rises."
"That's amazing. Come to think of it, the leads weren't exactly famous actors from the Ranier Duchy, either."
"They say she wrote the plot herself. And even the lyrics for several of the songs."
"Oh, my heavens. Such content...?"
While many whispered that it was hardly a story a lady should be writing, the number of people who openly and sincerely expressed their admiration for her grew as well.
"It shouldn't be dismissed as mere popular fiction. It's a remarkable feat to make the nobility empathize so deeply with the story of a dancer who started as a maid. You can't achieve that without a profound exploration of universal human experience and nature."
"And what of the direction?"
"In truth, the highlight of The Curtain Rises is the direction. They say that is the part Lady Laila worked on most closely."
"Even with nothing but layers of curtains in the background, it felt as if every scene became vividly real. The actors' capabilities were impressive, but the very fact that she initiated such an attempt in the first place..."
There were many nobles who patronized theater troupes or artists, but no one had gained fame in this manner. The praise for the opera and the praise for Lady Laila were almost indistinguishable, which meant that all of high society was blanketed in talk of her. If her previous reputation had been built on her beauty and her status as a delightful plaything, her current reputation was composed of admiration for her artistic eye and daring sensibilities. There was a clear distinction between the two, and when combined, they created an even greater current.
Princess Roella first realized this at the party hosted by the Krut family.
Most of the women were wearing dark-colored satin dresses with simple, flowing silhouettes, and their makeup was quite heavy. They drew long eyeliners and applied very deep, dark red or even black-red lipstick. Since many had been dyeing their hair black for some time, that went without saying.
Roella frowned, fiddling with the blonde hair she had always considered her pride. Irritation surged within her. With everyone looking like that, didn't she look the one who was out of fashion?
It wasn't just the hair color; it was the attire as well. The cream-colored dress she had newly tailored last month had been very satisfying until the moment she put it on. The lace that softly wrapped around her shoulders shimmered subtly, and the voluminous skirt, starting from the waist, was layered with thin, luxurious silk and lace, swaying lightly as if caught in a breeze whenever she moved.
But at this very moment, she could not deny the fact that this dress felt quite childish. This was true even though there were still many women wearing voluminous dresses similar to hers.
Everything was unsatisfactory. Unable to hide her expression, Roella held her cocktail glass with a feeling of discomfort. People trying to curry favor with her gathered around, spouting all sorts of pleasantries, but not a single word entered her ears.
"I cannot tell you how much I have waited, hearing that Your Highness would be attending."
"Would you grant me the honor of a dance, Your Highness?"
"You are truly beautiful today as well."
It was then. The doors of the ballroom opened, and someone entered. All gazes turned in that direction. The attention that had been surrounding Roella dispersed.
A small murmur spread.
"Lady Laila has arrived."
"Oh my. She has a different feel today."
Laila had her black hair simply pinned up and was wearing a vivid red dress. The bodice, covered in layers of ruffles, looked like a tulip, and the small pearl necklace layered several times around her neck looked like the stamen of a flower. The overall shape was not significantly different from the black dress she had popularized, but the boldness of her color choice set her apart from the others. Because of the simple silhouette that emphasized her figure, there was little room for ornamentation, and among the similar-looking dresses, she alone was peerless.
What completed it all was her face, white and beautiful like an intricately and finely carved statue.
The man who had been requesting a dance card from Roella let out an exclamation, completely spellbound. He was not the only one. Whether they liked her or hated her, there was no one whose gaze would not be drawn to her.
Tremble. Roella's hand shook slightly. The cocktail glass overflowed, and the red liquid dripped onto her white glove. Caroline, the Countess of Dernburg and her lady-in-waiting, who noticed this, quickly took the cocktail glass from her hand. Realizing she had made a mistake, Roella frowned, took off her glove, and threw it to the floor.
Slap.
Because she had thrown it in a fit of nerves rather than simply dropping it, the discordant sound rang out, piercing through the music. The people standing around Roella looked at her in unison, and the Marchioness of Krut, who had been approaching Laila, turned back, greatly flustered, and hurried toward Roella.
"Your Highness."
She bowed her knees politely, greeted her once more as if it were a new occasion, and asked, "Is there anything that makes you uncomfortable?"
"Something got on my glove, so I just threw it away."
Unable to hide her emotions, Roella replied, showing her annoyance plainly. The maid following the Marchioness of Krut quickly picked up the Princess's glove.
"I shall have a new pair of gloves prepared for you shortly."
"Hmph."
Roella acted as if she hadn't heard and snorted. The Marchioness of Krut did not waver in the slightest and wore a soft smile. The party today was bound to be a success. The Princess's attendance always elevated her reputation and fame, and on top of that, she had succeeded in inviting Laila, the hottest guest in high society right now. Her patience was infinite today, and she could respond pleasantly no matter what the Princess did.
Laila approached them, perhaps to greet the host of the party and the Princess. The guests naturally cleared a path for her.
This, too, was a heart-pounding affair for the Marchioness of Krut. Everyone knew that Princess Roella disliked Laila.
The Princess believed that high society ought to admire and follow her. If not her, then at least her mother, Empress Lillian, should be followed. But the reality was different. Despite her beauty, Lillian could not become the queen of high society due to her background. Instead, that position was divided among various noblewomen of high society.
The only reason Princess Roella had tolerated it was that the noblewomen called celebrities of high society were generally over the age of thirty. How could married matrons or elderly ladies follow a twenty-year-old girl? If they had actually done so, she would have been just as displeased by that.
However, Lady Laila was different. She was only twenty-one or twenty-two at most, yet she had overturned the entire trend of high society. She had even faded the value of the natural blonde hair Princess Roella had boasted of. She was merely a low-ranking foreign noble who held only the title of 'Lady,' yet all of high society praised and admired her.