Unsurprisingly, the next day Matty wants to see you in her office. You come in and take a seat quietly. You know everyone can't possibly be happy about the performance, and you know you're going to hear about it.
Matty looks up from the papers on her desk. "There's some good news and some bad news."
"I'm glad to hear there's some good news," you say optimistically.
She snorts. "Some. The audience didn't riot, so we didn't make utter fools of ourselves. The critics weren't impressed, but they didn't pan it either. That's the best we could have hoped for. The Raven's heirs even seem pleased. You'd think it shouldn't be a complete disaster." Matty frowns. "But."
"But?" you say.
"But. The Raven is furious. This play is never to be performed again upon royal order. We will comply or the theater will be shut down."
You take a deep breath. "That's harsh."
"So is the Raven. Cenone is not amused." She shakes her head. Her expression isn't softening. "It's not the kind of thing I like to hear."
You wince, visions of your next commission at the Odeon withering and dying as she speaks.
Matty purses her lips. "So needless to say, the play is closing."