* * *

“The stage looks rather empty.”

The Pope, who was not in good health, woke up only when the sun was high in the sky. Having received a report from the attendant that preparations would be delayed, Kirion reviewed the performance list to fill the gap before the Pope’s speech and glanced at Rublier. According to the original plan, the troupe scheduled for the fourth celebration had been moved up to the second slot.

Kirion clicked his tongue.

“This isn’t the scenario I had planned.”

Everything was in disarray. With the Pope’s speech delayed, Rublier had left the waiting area and was now seated in the front row with Satin to watch the performance. Kirion sat beside them.

Rublier offered comfort to his friend.

“We can aim for next year. With this year’s experience, we can make next year’s event perfect.”

“Next year is next year, but this year ended up like this.”

Kirion had expressed concern from the start, with the entrance marred by a carriage accident. The invited orchestra, the troupe’s actors, and the Papal Palace staff were all cautious, aware of Kirion’s displeasure as they prepared the stage.

Few would dare to critique an event hosted by the Papal Palace. However, in trying to inject a youthful atmosphere into the solemn ceremony, it ended up being neither here nor there, which naturally irritated Kirion, who was in charge.

Moreover, the performance was being showcased to all the famous nobles of Caldeblanca, making the actors nervous. The fact that the venue was the Papal Palace and the host was the Pope’s son added to the pressure. Despite their efforts, small mistakes kept occurring.

Kirion sighed and commented.

“Next year, we might as well return to the usual dull ceremony. The actors are not skilled enough to handle a major event at the Papal Palace.”

Unable to hide his disappointment, he gestured for an attendant.

“Has His Holiness finished his preparations?”

The attendant fidgeted and bowed his head.

“I’m sorry, Your Eminence. Please wait another thirty minutes.”

“Nothing is going right because of that flood. From the entrance mishap to cleaning up the mess, and despite delaying the performance, half of the actors didn’t show up. Out of ten performances, only six were staged successfully. Tell the orchestra to fill the remaining thirty minutes until the speech.”

The attendant, who had been waiting, approached the orchestra with Kirion’s instructions. After a brief conversation with the conductor, the attendant returned, looking troubled.

“The orchestra is also short of musicians and can’t perform the prepared scores. They ask if they can repeat the pieces they’ve already played.”

“That would be boring.”

It was a mess. Kirion pressed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. There wasn’t a good solution. They had to fill the empty time, even by repeating the performances. Just as he was about to call the attendant to give further instructions, a clear voice rang out.

“Will thirty minutes be enough?”

Kirion recognized the voice without needing to see who it was. It was Delilah.

“I apologize. I know it’s not polite, but seeing your distress, I couldn’t help but intrude. I overheard your conversation. You seem worried about the lack of performers. Do you need to fill thirty minutes?”

Kirion looked from the composed Delilah to the awkward Gjorn, realizing this was Delilah’s solo initiative.

“Do you have a good idea?”

Kirion asked. Despite having left her off the guest list due to her ambiguous position, now was not the time to be picky. Delilah, with her extensive stage experience, was practically the most helpful person around.

“Yes.”

Delilah stepped forward.

“Would you entrust those thirty minutes to me?”

“Entrust them to you…?”

“I came here as Gjorn’s partner, but my profession is a singer. The stage is my life. I couldn’t just stand by knowing there’s a lack of music.”

Kirion responded with a curious smile.

“I appreciate your willingness to help, but can the orchestra accompany you without sheet music?”

“I’ll sing songs everyone knows. They just need to follow along. It’ll be fine. My voice is the most beautiful music of all.”

Her confidence was absolute. Honestly, if it weren’t for the scandal, Delilah would have been the top choice for any official event. The dilemma was clear.

Friends were important, but so was the event. He had always been curious about the performance of the renowned prima donna. It was a chance to see and hear the talent of a woman he believed he had no connection with.

Though his mind was already made up, Kirion asked again for formality.

“Can a prima donna who came unprepared truly perform on the spot when even the prepared troupes are making mistakes?”

Delilah’s eyes changed, her pride as an actress coming to the fore.

“I am always ready to perform. My abilities will speak for themselves.”

“Alright, I look forward to it.”

With Kirion’s permission granted, Delilah walked onto the stage. The audience stirred at the unexpected appearance of the prima donna. Some were welcoming, while others were not. Satin felt the sudden influx of sidelong glances and bit her lower lip.

“I apologize, Rublier, Madam Satin.”

Kirion offered a brief apology.

“Kirion, don’t tell me you let that prima donna…”

Rublier’s protest was cut off by Satin shaking her head.

“There’s no need to apologize to us. Having a way to hold people’s attention until the ceremony is important.”

If honor was needed, she would have actively supported it. If dignity was needed, she would have supported that too. But a singer’s stage was entirely different. Just as Delilah didn’t possess Satin’s abilities, Satin didn’t possess Delilah’s talent. This was Delilah’s domain.

The only troublesome part was that the scandal kept resurfacing like a persistent shadow.

“During this National Foundation Day event, all the top singers and actors in the country were invited to perform, but she was the only one excluded from the list.”

A sudden echo of memory flashed through her mind. Was it simple luck? Or did she create her own luck? Delilah, who was deliberately excluded from the event, had finally managed to perform.

Spreading the hem of her red dress wide, Delilah bent her knees in reverence towards the audience. It was a movement characterized by her unique grace.

“If it pleases those present here today, I would like to dedicate a song for this ceremony. For the eternity of Caldeblanca, and for the glory of everyone here.”

Her greeting resonated clearly. Her articulation was so precise that not a single syllable was out of place. The violinist, who had agreed on the song selection, began to play solo. The voice, considered the most beautiful instrument in the world, was layered over the melody of the violin, considered the most perfect instrument in the world.

The murmuring died down after just the first verse. This was also when Kirion, who had been slouched in his chair, sat up straight.

There was a reason for Delilah’s confidence.

Prima donna. The leading lady of the stage.

That term existed in this moment to describe Delilah.

The proximity between the stage and the first row was uncomfortably close. Actors and audiences engage in a kind of power struggle. Actors must overwhelm the audience, and the audience must scrutinize the actors. Thus, fearing the audience’s gaze disqualifies one from being a prima donna.

Delilah met the eyes of each audience member. Of course, there were a few intimidating figures among them. For example, Satin was one, and Rublier, whose expression remained unchanged, was another. And then there was Kirion. The future Pope, Kirion, was also an imposing presence.

Her gaze swept over the audience and halted at Kirion. Usually, when eyes meet, one party concedes. And most often, the victor was Delilah. There were few spectators who could withstand the energy of a born prima donna who acted down to the tips of her hair and sang with every flick of her fingers. The audience happily yielded.

But Kirion did not avoid Delilah’s gaze. It was no illusion. Instead, he persistently followed her gaze. Her eyes, which had intended to move on, were caught by his tenacity.

It was a familiar look. Many men had looked at Delilah with such eyes.

But this time, the depth was different.

She had a feeling. This might be quite an opportunity. Delilah smiled with confidence.