Chapter 37 Remy
Chapter thirty-seven
Remy
We’re back at the opera house to check progress and make sure the Patron concert doesn’t implode.
Erik wants to test the acoustics. Again.
I want to see Christianna.
Meg isn’t punishing me. That would be obvious. This is something quieter.
She no longer anticipates. She no longer fills silences. She waits until someone asks.
It’s deliberate.
I’ve noticed. I don’t comment on it. It’s deserved, even though it’s growing old.
If this is a phase, it will pass. If it isn’t, I’ll deal with it when it costs me something.
Unsurprisingly, Erik is already seated in his preferred box.
The one with the clearest view of the orchestra pit.
Under different circumstances, I’d find that amusing.
Given how badly we misstepped, it’s not.
I head for the stairs and take the seat beside him.
I lean back and close my eyes, listening for different things than Erik.
I’m listening for volume. For balance. For whether this works as atmosphere, whether it’s refined enough to make people loosen their purse strings without realizing they’re doing it.
A discordant note snaps through the air.
I open my eyes.
Even from here, I can see the Maestro’s displeasure. Second chair violin. The man flushes crimson as he recovers, shoulders tight with embarrassment as he forces himself back into tempo.
Meg murmurs beside us, “This isn’t the first time. He’s about to lose his seat.”
I hadn’t realized she’d joined us.
Christianna plays on, unaware of her growing audience. Unbothered. Untouched.
Erik doesn’t blink.