An Artist For An Artist

"...The Princess Arvilla, and the Emperor himself, His Royal Majesty, EmperorTheron Uleavien!"

Her heart gave a loud thump as she gazed up on the seats where the patrons were. The people around them clapped, some even lifted their heads up either with a smile or a frown, bitter chuckles escaping their lips. One man, particularly the one seated behind Evelina, whispered to his companion, "I've dined with the Emperor once. Tried to offer my daughter to him but he declined."

"How pitiful, Lord Disgus. How about the prince, then?"

"Prince Alphonse was at death's door that time. But since he has returned, I should think of coming back to make another offer. My second is unmarried, still."

Alright, she had had enough listening to their conversation. They were nothing but cheap men calling themselves rich.

She turned her attention back to where the emperor was, her eyes with a hopeful glint. Today was the closest she could get to her goal. So close that she could shut her eyes and will her body to appear in front of them within just a second or two, claiming her prize to herself.

Was that day supposed to be today?

Yet she sat still, movements limited to the space granted to her as she observed her surroundings. 

"He appears popular to the people," a rough voice said. Turning to her side, she saw Mitchel staring at the same place her eyes had been hovering at. "As expected of the Imperial Family. Anyone would grovel if it meant being glorified by their presence."

It was snarky, almost sarcastic. And if anyone heard him, it was positive that he would be found dead the next day.

Evelina shook her head, questioning in silence what Mitchel was doing there with them. It was already odd how he was spending that much time with the troupe when he had no official affiliations with Eglantine. He was not a member nor a recruit. 

Mitchel branded himself his own title of being a prisoner, though. Despite living rent-free in the inn's chamber.

A title that old man Duncan denied, just as he also did when asked if the gruff human was going to be recruited.

Regardless of saying that he was only there so they could keep his mouth shut, Mitchel being with them seemed natural. Like Evelina, he was still not used to being around the troupe. His grudges could still be seen, at times. The only difference between them was that, by Freeda's words, he carried an energy that could easily bring someone comfort.

The opinion came after he joined them on their night outs - which turned into night-ins since they were apparently banned from the fashion house. By the end of the week, Mitchel had already formed a bond with the recruits.

Still, the fact that he was not part of anything remained.

"Are you interested in showing us a demonstration of groveling?" 

So having a good relationship with others did not mean she would be treating him differently.

"Evelina," Leila, who she forgot was seated on her other side, warned.

The vampiress gave a loud sigh, but she did not waver. "Look, if you are really mad at them, go find a scandal. It's not like the other nobles are doing the same, right?"

Mitchel threw her a stony glare, not up with her games. "A scandal that everyone would turn a blind eye to despite knowing? Sure." 

"Please," begged the witch. "It's already a mystery that you two are still here. Don't make it worse for yourselves."

Evelina did not get the chance to answer them. The actress in front of the stage called for their attendance.

At the mention of Eglantine, her head snapped towards West's back. He was frozen, neck's stiff as his attention was directed in front.

"Would any of the members care to join Moon Petal on stage?"

She heard Leila gulp.

Like how it was in some parts of the play, time stilled. 

Patrick was a few seats away from her, and if anyone expected Moon Petal's call to Eglantine, it must have been him. But he had his eyes wide, his breath uneven- he was also surprised.

Amongst the silence, the actress spoke. "Oh? Am I mistaken that they are here? But I am quite sure that I invited them. Could it be-?" she gasped dramatically, turning to the other actors. They, in turn, looked as if someone had betrayed them. The woman curtsied, showing a bow so low that the half of her braid was already touching the ground. " Forgive our guests, Your Majesty. We did not mean to disrespect your presence by the abandonment of their answer."

The abandonment of their what?

The crowd was filled with whispers of how the said guests must be punished. 

"It's a challenge," Mitchel muttered in realization. "Far from fairness, yet clever."

None of the members were moving. But what was strange was how their surprised state from earlier was slowly fading, their shoulders relaxed as if they were never tensed.

"It's dirty," Leila said, her eyes holding an intense gaze as she casually stared in front. Then, she turned to them with a smile. "The play was amazing, wasn't it? I'm really glad that we saved enough to watch it in such a luxurious location. But my, what a disrespectful troupe."

Evelina was still confused. And they were to get out of here how? By simply pretending that they were commoners who only found their way to the nobles' place? 

Because that plan would work just fine?

They heard a soft clanging of iron behind them, the exit being blocked by an army of men in armour. The murmurs got louder, and the other members started going along with it. Nobody was still acting as Eglantine's representative. 

Until a man, his mask feathery, stood up from the last row of seats.

"I did not mean disrespect," Sir Duncan answered. An obvious glee could be heard from his tone as he walked towards the stage, his arms spread wide. "Of course, how I am called is never expected."

The actress scoffed, her lips twitching. "I am sure you're not the only one."

Once the old witch had reached the stage, he took a bow directed at the elevated seats, his head reaching much lower than the woman. "Your Majesty, forgive me and my team. I would not say that the call was an intrusion, but we are not prepared for such a dare. The invitation, after all, did not say that we are to be challenged in front of the emperor."

He received no spoken answer.

"You are in Lemver Street, how could you not expect to run into nobles?" They could only imagine the frown she must be wearing.

"We are but travellers. I was not aware that entering the capital meant that we should know every location. I find that impossible, especially with how big it is."

They came there for a play. The interaction before them was definitely more entertaining.

"Is it not funny how you are contradicting yourself? You are a traveller who does not know an important location?"

"Do I owe you forgiveness for not drawing myself a map."

Leila masked a chuckle with a cough. 

Yes, definitely entertaining.

The tension was a show to see. And even if they wanted more, a man with a red face raised a hand from the patron's seats to stop them.

His clothes were too unfashioned to be the emperor, his sleeves pale in color. He was holding a barely used handkerchief on his other hand, readying it for a blow, whilst at the same time resisting.

"The emperor ordered," he said with a gulp, "that one of you must proceed telling the purpose. The time should not be wasted on ridiculous fights if it is not for a show."

"Very well." The actress nodded. She looked at Sir Duncan, but she did not stop there. She searched the sea of audiences until her gaze locked with someone near them. Patrick! "Here is my purpose, then. A favour granted to us. Moon Petal Company, with the Emperor as our judge and witness, challenged the Eglantine Theatre Troupe. An artist for an artist, as you had gladly stolen ours."

There was drumming before bright-coloured fabrics appeared onstage, the once lined-up actors running around with grace. It was distracting as it was enchanting. Like a tale was being told again.

"Attend to our challenge, or we will never give yours back."

With that, all traces of Sir Duncan disappeared.