A Toe-Curling Performance
The moment the words were spoken, the crowd surged forward like a wave.
The main hall of the Spring Breeze Tower was stunning, all intricately carved beams and painted ceilings, but the new patrons barely noticed.
They flooded in, their focus entirely on grabbing a seat at one of the large wooden tables already set with aromatic tea and fresh fruit.
Servers wove through the organized chaos, their voices clear as they took orders, trying to keep up with the crush of people.
A beautifully carved staircase led to the more luxurious private rooms on the second floor.
The wooden doors were carved with symbols of the Rose, Oak, Laurel, and Lily, the Four Virtues, with elegant plaques hung above each entrance.
Inside, the decor was exquisite, from the fine wooden tables and chairs fitted with soft cushions to the art and calligraphy decorating the walls.
By the windows, porcelain vases held freshly cut branches.
From the railing, you had a perfect, unobstructed view of the stage on the first floor and the bustling crowd below.
In no time at all, the entire place was buzzing. Every single seat was taken, people were standing in the hallways, and a long line had already formed outside. The nobles and commoners who'd shown up a minute too late were stuck on the street, kicking themselves for not leaving earlier.
"If I'd known His Majesty was going to give them a plaque, I would've gotten in line hours ago."
"My mom said this place was going to be a total bust. I came to see a train wreck, but now I'm the fool stuck outside!"
"This is all my dad's fault! He was so worried about offending the Vance family that he wouldn't let me leave the house. I finally snuck out, but I still missed my chance."
The people stuck outside peered through the doorway, wishing they could sprout wings and fly inside. They were all hoping someone might leave early so they could snag a spot.
Meanwhile, the Empress Dowager, dressed down in plain clothes to avoid attention, had settled into the private room with the best view on the second floor, accompanied by Nanny Cole and a few attendants. Cassidy and the Fourth Princess were right there with her.
The ever-diligent Ryder Sinclair was backstage, giving the theater troupe one last pep talk before they went on. The stage was draped in high-hanging red silks, and below, the audience craned their necks, their eyes shining with excitement.
Then, with a clash of cymbals and a roll of drums, the play began. "My Young Lord, Your Little Pampered Husband Has Run Away Again."
The actor playing Young Lord Vance was handsome and commanding, while the one playing Scholar Dawes was delicate and gentle.
To avoid any obvious trouble, Cassidy had deliberately changed the main character's last name.
She also made sure a disclaimer was read before each performance: "This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental."
On stage, Young Lord Vance backed the scholar against a wall. He gently lifted the other man's chin, his gaze intense and possessive. "Little thing," he purred, "now that you've caught my eye, where do you think you can possibly run?"
The audience below erupted in whoops and excited applause. The dialogue was so cheesy it made them cringe, but they were absolutely loving it.
Up in the private room, the Empress Dowager had the same confused yet fascinated expression as a grandma on the subway watching some bizarre viral video over a teenager's shoulder.
She turned, puzzled. "Aren't they supposed to be good friends? Why does their conversation sound so... strange?"
Cassidy froze. How in the world was she supposed to explain to the Empress Dowager that some men were more than just "friends"?
She was drawing a total blank. She shot a desperate look at the Fourth Princess, who looked horrified.
She'd completely forgotten this was the play scheduled for the grand opening.
If she'd remembered, she never would have let her grandmother come.
Neither of them could figure out how to explain why two grown men, supposedly just friends, were saying such cringey things to each other. They decided to throw the writer under the bus. "Grandmother, Ryder Sinclair wrote the script. You can ask him about it when he gets here."
Thankfully, the Empress Dowager was immediately sucked back into the drama unfolding on stage.
Scholar Dawes, now aware that Young Lord Vance had lied about his identity and was actually the heir to a noble family, looked completely heartbroken. With red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes, he hurled their token of love at him.
"Young Lord, the gap between our families is too great. Our love is deep, but it seems we were never meant to be. Let's end it here!" With that, he turned and walked away.
Young Lord Vance picked up the emerald pendant with trembling fingers, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and obsession. "You're the one who started this, and now you think you can just walk away? Not a chance!"
Without another word, he strode forward, swept Scholar Dawes into his arms, and carried him behind a large decorative screen.
Faint, suggestive sounds drifted out from behind it.
"You've been very naughty this time!"
"Let go of me!"
"Never!"
After a long, charged pause, a new set of lines emerged.
"Do you still plan on running away?"
"No... I won't. Not ever again."
The audience below leaped to their feet, buzzing with scandalous excitement.
Even the Empress Dowager, as oblivious as she had been, finally seemed to understand that the two men on stage were more than just friends.
The Fourth Princess buried her face in her hands, completely mortified.
Cassidy just wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
She had only given Ryder a little inspiration; she couldn't believe he'd actually written *this*.
It was just the first part, and it was already this risque.
Was her brand-new theater going to get shut down for indecency on its first day?
Cassidy studiously avoided making eye contact with the Empress Dowager and Nanny Cole, forcing herself to keep her eyes glued to the stage.
Just then, Preston Vance, who had snuck in with the rest of the audience, shot to his feet.
"Silence! This is absolute garbage!" he yelled. "My brother is a man of honor. He would never do something so... trashy! Stop this performance at once!"
Hearing someone causing a scene, Cassidy immediately stood. "Grandmother, please enjoy your tea. I'll be right back."
Seeing her leave, the Fourth Princess quickly followed.
Cassidy stepped out of the private room just in time to see Preston, who had stormed out from the room next door, ordering the Vance family servants to grab the two actors on stage.
"You again?" Cassidy snapped. "Causing trouble in my tower? Do you have a death wish?"
When Preston saw Cassidy, he instantly remembered being beaten black and blue outside Ashworth Manor.
To make matters worse, Cassidy had played the victim so convincingly that he'd gotten in even more trouble with his father when he got home.
Fueled by old grudges and new insults, his eyes turned red. He pointed a shaking finger at her.
"Princess Solana! Have you no shame? You were the one who beat up Percival Dawes, and my brother was just being a good person and speaking up for him! To save your own skin, you had your theater troupe cook up this disgusting play to slander him!"
he shrieked. "What are you trying to do? Ruin his reputation just because you can't stand that he stood up for someone else?"
Before Cassidy could even get a word in, the Fourth Princess shot back, furious.
"The Vance family is so ridiculously defensive of Percival Dawes, and you're trying to say there's nothing suspicious about that?"
she demanded. "Besides, does the play actually name your brother? Why are you so determined to make him fit the part?"
Cassidy added quietly, a sharp edge to her voice, "The fight for a family title has always been ruthless, hasn't it?"
Ryder, who had just come out from backstage, overheard this, and a new idea sparked in his mind. *Perfect,* he thought. He'd add a plotline about the struggle for the family title in the next installment.
As soon as Cassidy's words hung in the air, all eyes turned to Preston. Some people looked angry, some were curious, and some were just enjoying the show. But most of them were just mad that he had interrupted the best part.
"Where did this guy come from? Doesn't he know you're supposed to be quiet during a show?"
"It was just getting good! Sit down!"
"Preston, what are you doing? The play doesn't even mention your brother by name. Why are you so worked up?"
"Yeah, exactly. Could it be that you're actually after your brother's position as head of the family?"
Nobody in the audience was stupid. They were there to be entertained, and now that they finally had a play this juicy, they didn't care if it was based on a true story or not.
They were invested in the two actors on stage.
As far as they were concerned, Preston Vance jumping up and stopping the show was no different than someone trying to break up their favorite couple.