Chapter 45
During the short ride to the Sandro district, Oscar’s mind was filled with pleasant visions.
The Balthus Theater, which had never received a prestigious guest, and the eager look on Marlena’s face as she stood nervously in front of it, waiting for someone to come.
Oscar’s footsteps ring in her ears, and her face freezes as she turns to greet him.
“Why are you here? Are you here to mock me?”
He gets a chill down his spine at the thought of Marlena getting angry at him for stroking her unnecessary ego.
And then Oscar would take it easy and present her with a bouquet of flowers. That’s the grace of a winner.
Because when a winner’s generosity is unleashed, a loser’s frustration is deepened.
As Marlena stood contemplative, holding the suffocatingly fragrant bouquet, Oscar would whisper in his sweetest voice:
“You know, you should have taken me up on my offer.”
Then she wouldn’t be in this miserable position.
She wouldn’t have been trampled on as the least courtesy to a business associate.
Then Marlena would bite her red, full lips.
Maybe even her eyes would be red from crying.
His heart burned in his chest just thinking about it.
The fact that Marlena, whom he once viewed with disgust and contempt as a crawling insect, had been forgotten.
Anyway, Oscar didn’t know any of this at the moment.
Oscar’s pleasant fantasy was shattered in the small plaza of the Sandro district. The sound of a lively crowd of people chattered.
Oscar looked up and saw the source of the sound.
The Balthus Theater, just off the plaza, was the source.
He came to his senses.
Oscar quickened his pace and headed toward the Balthus Theater.
The sight before him was unbelievable.
The theater’s waiting hall was packed with people.
It was a far cry from the silence he had expected to hear his own footsteps echoing in the silence.
The sound of anticipatory laughter came from all directions, distracting Oscar.
Although his stomach churned and his face almost contorted, he managed to hold on to his composure. It was unthinkable to scowl in such a crowded place.
“Stay rational, Oscar Crestwell.”
He restrained himself and looked around. He needed to see who had come.
If they were invitees to the premiere of a new play at the Crestwell Grand Theater…… then it would be unbearable.
After a few seconds of looking around with such a determined expression, Oscar’s face relaxed. A light sigh escaped him.
‘Woohoo…….’
Luckily, all the people Oscar had sent invitations to had gone to the Crestwell Grand Theater. The dignitaries were nowhere to be found.
Waiting for the curtain to rise were a group of children around the age of ten and their chaperones.
There were many children presumed to be children of noble families, but their parents went to the Crestwell Grand Theater, so they were accompanied by a nanny or tutor.
As Oscar surveyed the faces of the guests who had come to the theater, he felt completely relieved and regained his usual arrogant smile.
“So it seems.”
There was no way Marlena could have attracted normal audience members.
It was as if she’d brought in children as a stopgap measure when her original target audience was about to be overrun at the Crestwell Grand Theater.
“Such a foolish woman. She didn’t expect this to backfire.”
She’d get away with it today, but it was clear this strategy wouldn’t work for long.
Children didn’t have the discerning eye to judge the quality of a play, nor did they have the financial means to buy tickets. It was a strategy with no longevity, and therefore no future.
It would turn the theater into a cheap playground for children, rather than a place for sophisticated cultural life.
“If only she’d known.”
It was obvious.
Children will be children. They can’t sit still for ten minutes, they’ll run around and scream at the top of their lungs.
The stage would be completely ruined by noisy children.
Oscar was sure of that, and he looked around.
Marlena’s red hair drew his attention.
As usual, her bodyguard, Roche, was standing close enough to touch her shoulder.
As soon as he saw it, his mood suddenly became strange. Perhaps ‘dirty’ would be a better word.
The bouquet wrapper crumpled under the strain of his crooked fingers.
Roche spotted Oscar before Marlena did. Their gazes met in the air for a moment.
Roche’s expression hardened to the point where his docile face looked stern, and then he slowly lowered his head.
His lips were too close to Marlena’s ear, which seemed inappropriate to Oscar.
He pushed his way through the crowd and crept closer to them. Marlena turned her head toward Oscar belatedly, as if she had only been alerted to his arrival by Roche’s whisper.
Oscar held the bouquet out to her.
Marlena stared at the bouquet for a moment, her eyes narrowed, and then she smiled. She and Roche exchanged glances for a moment.
It was a leisurely insult to Oscar’s pride every time.
And that leisure was evident once again this time.
Oscar wanted to trample that leisure.
“This is a different audience than I usually see in the theater.”
Oscar commented, looking around at the audience he had already clearly assessed.
“It must have been quite an adventure.”
“You must have been in a hurry to choose such a futile strategy,” he said sarcastically.
But Marlena wasn’t at all embarrassed by Oscar’s point; on the contrary, her face remained relaxed as she followed him around the room.
“It was bold, indeed. But isn’t it a clever strategy? This way, we can ‘coexist,’ can’t we, Crestwell Grand Theater and Balthus Theater?”
Her skill in repartee was impressive.
Oscar, not to be outdone, stammered.
“Well, even that ‘coexistence’ would require Balthus Theater to survive for long.”
It was a forecast analysis that bordered on cursing them to failure.
Oscar thought his words might shake Marlena even a little.
But once again, he was sorely mistaken.
Marlena burst out laughing.
Her booming laughter was drowned out by the commotion in the hall.
“Anne, Anne!”
She called out to one of the attendants who was organizing the crowd.
She quickly answered the call, handed the attendants the bouquet Oscar had given her, and gave her instructions.
“Fetch my ticket.”
It was an instruction that seemed obscure at first glance.
But the attendant, who was called Anne, dutifully followed Marlena’s instructions.
She returned less than five minutes later with a delicately illustrated invitation envelope.
Marlena took it, fiddled with it for a moment, and handed it to Oscar.
“I feel a little bad telling the Duke to go home after he came all this way with flowers.”
Oscar looked at Marlena’s fingertips.
“It’s my place, but I’ll give it to the Duke.”
Marlena’s seductive voice clung to Oscar’s ear.
Oscar hesitated for a moment.
But then he thought ‘rationally’.
What kind of people did the Balthus Theater consist of?
It was a place where people expelled from the Crestwell Grand Theater gathered.
And, as he thought earlier, the kids they invited to fill the seats would be distracted, loud, crying, and getting up and down at will.
Then, when the play ended, wouldn’t he be able to enjoy the pleasure of hurling insults at Marlena?
He doesn’t know if she is being silly, or if she is keeping a poker face, but she is smiling now…….
He wonders if she’ll still be able to do that when the play ends.
According to what he read on the sign outside, the play is 90 minutes long with no intermission.
He was already hooked on the sweet fruit he would enjoy in 90 minutes.
Oscar took the ticket from Marlena.
“Thank you, Countess Balthus.”
“Anne, please escort the Duke of Crestwell.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Oscar glanced back as he followed the guide.
Marlena wasn’t watching his back.
She was whispering something to Roche, her bodyguard.
Oscar became so uncomfortable that she didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him, but for the time being, he meekly followed the attendants.
The attendant led Oscar to the central box seat.
The best seat in the house, with an unobstructed view of the stage.
Apparently, Marlena hadn’t sent anyone an invitation to this seat, leaving it empty for monitoring.
“I hope you enjoy the show.”
A cozy, well-decorated space.
Oscar rested his hand on the railing and looked down at the stage, wistfully.
There’s plenty of space. He wished Countess Balthus could have been there.
Then, he could have enjoyed her darkening expression as the play was ruined.