Chapter 41

The sharp criticism continued.

“Cat, stiff as a board. You don’t look anything like a cat. What did I tell you to pay attention to?”

I crossed my arms and nodded.

This is exactly what I would have pointed out if Anthony hadn’t.

We’ve improved a lot, but that alone isn’t enough.

We must strive for perfection.

I realize once again that Anthony and I are on the same page.

The embarrassed cat glanced around.

“You need to be a little more gentle with your shoulders…….”

Anthony’s voice softened a bit as he realized he had taken the point to heart.

“Yes, like this.”

As a demonstration, Anthony moved fluidly and smoothly from his shoulders to his wrists. His movements were unbelievable for a man of his advanced age.

I clicked my tongue.

‘A person who could have played the role of a young person was put in the back room because he was old.’

Thanks to Anthony, the actors’ acting skills were growing rapidly.

Even those who had shown mediocre or below-average abilities during auditions were undergoing a dazzling transformation.

The results were more than making up for the time spent on sleep.

The morale of the actors was skyrocketing, as they were becoming more efficient and improving day by day.

Becky, who was observing practice, whispered to me.

“Our troupe is outshining the Crestwell troupe in acting.”

I trusted Becky’s assessment, having seen Crestwell’s perform many times.

I could only smile. An encouraging smile.

“I think we’re in good hands with Anthony here.”

‘Ah’ having someone like him around makes me feel a bit relieved.

The presence of a capable person shines brightest in times like these.

“Oh, yes! Director.”

Becky smiled wryly.

“You have an interview for the stage art director position, don’t you?”

Ugh.

She was right.

There’s no time to catch my breath. I’m swamped.

Becky giggled at my slightly dying face.

* * *
In addition to the actors, we also hired people to handle the overall stage art and sound.

“It would be great if we could hire a magician.”

It was somewhat regrettable not being able to use magicians for stage direction in a world with magic.

A projection projector that could be used as a beam projector could be purchased at a high price, but it was not enough.

If we could directly hire magicians, we could achieve more diverse productions.

I sighed, and Becky comforted me.

“Even the Crestwell Grand Theater can’t use magicians, they’re royal personnel.”

She’s right.

All the magicians in this world are affiliated with the royal family, and to employ them, one must submit a proposal to the king and obtain approval. The “rental cost” for these magicians was also enormous.

Even Oscar, a man who thrives on glamor, coveted a magician, but he had long since given up when he realized he couldn’t afford one.

The royal family has a monopoly on magic and sells the tools at a high price, which fills the treasury.

Becky said in passing.

“Even the good old Duke of Crestwell wasn’t authorized to use magic.”

“He got something just as special in return.”

It was information I’d learned when I’d been snooping around, dreaming of collaborating with Oscar.

“Such as the right to enter the capital and restore his title.”

Due to the power ambitions of Oscar’s grandfather, Decio Crestwell, Kieran was once stripped of his title and forced to flee the capital.

But by making the king’s youngest daughter, Princess Idvina, laugh, he was able to restore his family’s honor and build a theater in the best spot on Government Street.

“If His Grace the Duke of Crestwell had not been in such circumstances, do you think he would have been able to get permission to use magic?”

“Hmm, maybe he wouldn’t have gone into the theater business at all?”

Not a very well-regarded business.

“I suppose that’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Anyway, what else do we need to do right now?”

I shook off the momentary regret and decided to work with what I had and put together my first play.

It’s a little painful to realize that the only people who support me are my household members, the people in the theater company, and Roche.

I needed to get the show on the stage before the buzz died down about my recruitment of Katarina, so I had to keep a tight schedule for the premiere.

With such a tight schedule, the quality of the performance was non-negotiable, so intense rehearsals continued.

While everyone, including the staff, struggled with the tight schedule, I, who had to handle everything, was doubly exhausted.

Despite having many places to go, I had to go to the rehearsal room every afternoon to fulfill the director’s duties.

The schedule was so brutal that I couldn’t even attend the regular meetings at the Luces Club.

Then one day.

Dylan came in carrying a splendid flower basket.

“My Lady, someone has sent flowers for you.”

“Yes, leave them on the desk there. I’ll look at them later. And Roche?”

“He’s in training.”

I glanced out the window at Dylan’s words.

Sure enough, Roche was directing the training session.

Impressive.

Leaning against the window, I briefly observed Roshe’s stern and strict demeanor, different from when facing me, before turning my attention to the flowers.

Who could have sent them?

“I waited in the club lounge, but you didn’t show up, so I’m being presumptuous and asking for your pardon. I’d like to invite Countess Balthus to my residence next Monday.”

Huh?

My eyes widened.

Is there anyone in the Luces Club who could possibly…… await my visit?

My gaze naturally dropped to the bottom right corner of the card.

To see the sender.

From the Duke of Lopez.

The Duke of Lopez?

I was so shocked that I almost let out a silent scream and had to clamp my mouth shut.

I immediately grabbed a pen.

I must write back!

I couldn’t miss the chance to meet with the Duke of Lopez, the best critic in the kingdom.

To finally win his approval would elevate me to the top.

Though I decided not to be too eager to seek his praise right away, it wouldn’t hurt to establish some rapport in advance.

My heart pounded fiercely as I wrote the acceptance card.

What a surprise.

Duke Lopez was not just a friend of the late Duke Crestwell, but practically like siblings.

So Oscar is like the Duke of Lopez’s adorable nephew.

He must be very proud of his nephew for taking over his brother’s business and running it so well.

‘I was the ex-wife who drove his niece to despair.’

But to send such a beautiful flower basket and propose a meeting… it couldn’t be a trap.

Duke Lopez is a solid and formidable man.

He’s not the kind of man who would do something as petty as bullying others.

It’s best to think of it as pure goodwill, or at least curiosity.

‘So, what was it that caught your eye?’

As the Duke of Lopez wrote in his card, as soon as she recruited Katarina and Becky, she was so busy she never made it to the club lounge.

I couldn’t think of anything that might please him.

“Well, we’ll find out on Monday.”

I hummed happily and handed the card to Dylan.

Dylan also seemed to be vaguely aware of Duke Lopez’s status, his eyes sparkling as he said that the Countess was truly great.

Just then, Roche, who seemed to have finished training, came up to the floor where my room was.

He watched me and Dylan for a moment as we stood face to face, talking, before he shuffled over and slipped between us.

“You seem to be in a good mood, My Lady.”

“Ah, a distinguished gentleman sent flowers to Countess Balthus.”

Before I could open my mouth, Dylan proudly pointed to a basket of flowers in the study.

Roche turned his head and fixed his gaze on the colorful basket.

He gazed at it for a moment with an inscrutable expression.

Dylan’s boast continued.

“Countess Balthus will be meeting him on Monday.”

“……Is that so?”

Roche’s reply sounded somewhat subdued, and he looked at me for confirmation.

Beneath his calm and warm emerald eyes, there seemed to be something pleasant yet unsettling buried deep within.

Trying to understand what lay buried in the depths of his eyes, I lightly nodded.

“Are you ready to proceed?”

“Anytime.”

Roche’s tone sounded lower than usual when he said that.

I wondered if the training wasn’t going well. But when I asked, Roche simply shook his head.

He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would just mood swings for no reason.

I looked at Roche’s face, worried for him.

I could see a hint of resentment in his gaze.

Huh?

Why?

What did I do?

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. But Roche didn’t answer my question, he just bowed his head.