Princess Isabella was with the hero Martin.
They were watching a play in the grand royal theater of Lochgrise.
The hall was opulent, adorned with gold accents and red velvet. The nobles sat in comfortable seats, watching the stage with rapt attention.
On stage, an actor in an elaborate costume declaimed:
"And so, my broken heart weeps for the loss of my beloved, for cruel fate has parted us for eternity!"
The hero Martin suddenly snapped awake.
Damn, I almost fell asleep.
He blinked rapidly, trying to reorient himself.
He glanced at the princess.
Good, she's still smiling.
Isabella was talking about each scene with enthusiasm, leaning slightly toward him.
"It's so moving, don't you think? The way he expresses his grief is so… authentic."
Martin nodded.
"Mmh."
On stage, the actor continued:
"I shall walk alone in the darkness, for the light of your presence has been extinguished forever!"
A noble behind them murmured:
"What depth! What poetry!"
Another added:
"He's an absolute genius. A true genius."
Isabella turned to Martin again.
"And that metaphor about the light! It's so well-written. What do you think?"
Martin nodded.
"Yeah, it's… good."
What did she just say? The light? What light?
Isabella beamed.
"I knew you'd appreciate it! You really have great artistic taste."
I have no idea what's going on.
The actor on stage raised his arms dramatically:
"O cruel heavens! Why do you inflict this unspeakable suffering upon me?!"
A noble clapped lightly.
"Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!"
Martin forced himself to ask a question to pretend he was following.
"Uh… why is he suffering again?"
Isabella looked at him in surprise, then smiled.
"Oh, you want a reminder? It's because his love died in the previous act. Remember? The scene with the poison?"
Martin nodded.
"Oh, right, the poison."
There was poison? When?
On stage, an actress entered, dressed in a white gown.
She spoke in a trembling voice:
"My brother, why do you weep so?"
The actor replied:
"For my heart is heavy with the weight of loss!"
Isabella leaned toward Martin again.
"This sibling bond is so touching, don't you think?"
Martin nodded.
"Very touching."
Wait, is that his brother or his sister? Or both?
Isabella continued:
"And the symbolism of the white dress! It represents lost innocence. It's brilliant."
Martin murmured:
"Brilliant."
I don't see any symbolism. It's just a white dress.
The hero was at his wit's end.
When is this going to end? I've been here for two hours.
This play was boring beyond belief, but the nobles around him kept praising its genius.
"It's a masterpiece!"
"The best performance of the year!"
"I'm moved to tears!"
On stage, the actor fell to his knees dramatically.
"I can go on no longer! My soul is shattered!"
Isabella turned to Martin, her eyes sparkling.
"It's so intense. You can feel his pain, can't you?"
Martin nodded.
"Absolutely."
I mostly feel the urge to leave.
Then the play neared its conclusion.
The actor on stage looked up at the ceiling.
"And so, I find peace at last… in eternal darkness…"
He collapsed slowly to the floor.
Martin's face lit up.
Please, let this be the real end. Please, please.
He'd been tricked before—fake endings that dragged on and on—but he hoped this time it was for real.
Isabella, glancing at him, saw the hero's face and how captivated he seemed by the performance.
He looks so focused!
She thought to herself that she had made the right choice with this play.
He's really enjoying it. I knew he'd love it!
The actors stood and bowed, signaling the end.
Everyone applauded.
The hero clapped louder than the rest, unable to contain his relief.
FINALLY! IT'S OVER!
This prompted everyone to clap with even more fervor.
"If the hero loved this play that much, it must truly deserve such applause!"
"The hero has such refined taste!"
Once the play was over, the nobles began to rise and leave.
But many came to greet the hero and the princess.
"Your Highness, what a pleasure to see you!"
"Hero Martin, it's an honor!"
Martin smiled politely, responding with nods.
More people. More pleasantries.
Among them were Duke Jona Dornan and his son, Darel Dornan.
Duke Jona was a man in his fifties, with neatly combed gray hair. He wore an elegant suit with golden embroidery.
His son Darel was a young man in his twenties, with brown hair and green eyes. He was tall and well-dressed, with a charming smile.
Princess Isabella showed nothing outwardly, but inwardly, she grimaced.
Not them. Not now.
For months, the duke's son had been sending letters to the princess and trying to get closer to her.
Despite her rejecting him multiple times, he was persistent and never gave up.
It wasn't that Darel wasn't attractive, but compared to the hero, he wasn't even in the same league.
The duke bowed respectfully.
"Hero Martin, what a joy to see you again."
Martin nodded.
"Duke Dornan."
The duke smiled broadly.
"I heard about your recent exploits in the Black Chalice Tower. Conquering seven towers! It's incredible. You're truly a model for us all."
Martin replied politely:
"Thank you. It was a team effort."
The duke laughed.
"Always so humble! It's admirable."
Darel turned to Isabella, bowing slightly.
"Princess Isabella, you look radiant tonight."
Isabella smiled coldly.
"Thank you, Lord Darel."
Darel continued:
"I hope you enjoyed the play. I found it to be a masterpiece."
Isabella responded:
"Yes, it was… interesting."
The duke occasionally glanced at the princess.
Behind his smile, he was displeased.
Inwardly, he called her a viper for clinging to the hero like this.
The king and her are hyenas. I sent my son to woo the princess, but this… woman keeps rejecting him.
This Cassian everyone's talking about is already in the royal family's hands. If they have the hero too, their power will be too great.
The hero should belong to my family. But this princess is competing with my magnificent daughter.
Darel continued to speak subtly with the princess.
"I recently heard about a festival happening next month. Perhaps you'd like to attend? I'd be delighted to accompany you."
Isabella replied with words laced with subtext:
"I'm sure it will be a splendid event. But I already have commitments this month."
Darel smiled.
"Perhaps another time, then?"
Isabella responded coldly:
"Perhaps."
Never.
The duke, seeing the conversation going nowhere, decided to leave.
"Well, we won't keep you any longer. Have a wonderful evening."
They both bowed and left with the most respectful smiles possible.
Once out of earshot, the duke asked his son quietly:
"How did it go?"
Darel replied with an irritated expression:
"Same as usual."
The duke clenched his teeth.
"Keep trying. We can't let them have everything."
Once the last people had passed, the hero sighed deeply.
Finally done. That was almost worse than the play.
But the princess tapped his shoulder.
"You haven't forgotten, have you?"
Martin turned to her.
"Forgotten what?"
Isabella smiled.
"We're going to the opera next. It starts in a few minutes."
Inwardly, the hero died.
No. No. NO.
He had completely forgotten.
Isabella continued:
"I reserved the best seats! It's going to be amazing!"
Martin forced a smile.
"Yeah… amazing."
Please. Kill me now.