"Have you heard anything from her?"
In a dimly lit room adorned with a grand dressing table, a young lady anxiously bit her nails, her gaze fixated on the large mirror before her.
The room buzzed with the quiet bustle of two women preparing for her evening appearance, but the lady ignored them, turning instead to face a middle-aged man standing nearby.
"No, my Lady," he replied, his tone flat and emotionless.
She let out a heavy sigh and turned back to the mirror, her fingers nervously drumming on the wooden surface. "Mr. Rowan, do you still distrust Lyra? I've told you before, she has no ulterior motives. She's not a bad person," she insisted, her voice tinged with frustration.
"And about the incident this afternoon—are you absolutely certain she's the person the knights are searching for?" she added, her brow furrowing with concern.
Since she first heard about the commotion, Giselle had been plagued with unease, desperately trying to find any word of Lyra, but there had been no news. The growing suspicion in her servant's voice only deepened her anxiety.
"Seventy-five percent, my lady. I think she might be the person they're looking for," Mr. Rowan responded.
Giselle snorted softly, "So you're still not completely sure."
Just then, a soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and a man appeared, his posture respectful but uncertain.
"Excuse me, Miss Giselle, there's someone who claims to know you and wishes to meet you. She says her name is Lyra."
Giselle's expression brightened instantly. "Bring her here," she said, her tone eager.
The man hesitated, "But this area is reserved for staff only, miss..." he said gently, wary of upsetting her.
Giselle shot a cynical glance at his reflection in the mirror before waving her hand dismissively at Mr. Rowan. "Bring Lyra here," she repeated firmly.
Mr. Rowan nodded and quickly exited the room to fulfill her request.
* * *
Earlier that day, after leaving the alchemy shop, Lyra made her way toward the theater building. The lively market stalls she passed were filled with fresh produce, baked goods, and various meats. The savory aroma of skewered meat grilling over an open flame caught her attention.
'Perfect,' she thought, remembering the small, injured snake in her care.
She approached the vendor, purchasing a few skewers of roasted meat, knowing the tender morsels could serve as an emergency meal for the snake if she couldn't find live prey right away.
Continuing her journey while nibbling on the skewer, she saved a portion for the snake and soon arrived in front of the theater. A long queue stretched out from the entrance.
Curious, she approached someone in line. "Excuse me, what's this line for?"
The woman turned to her, eyes wide with enthusiasm. "You don't know? Miss Giselle is performing tonight! People have been lining up since earlier because the regular tickets are in limited supply."
A sudden realization hit Lyra—how could she enter without a ticket?
'Damn it, I was so focused on everything else that I forgot about something as basic as a ticket.'
"Quick, get in line behind me if you want a chance," the woman urged.
Without hesitation, Lyra slipped into the queue.
The woman glanced back at her, "So, are you a fan of Miss Giselle too?"
Lyra nodded slightly, which made the woman beam with pride.
"Oh, but you couldn't possibly be as big a fan as I am! I follow all of Miss Giselle's performances," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I've even caught a glimpse of her up close!"
Lyra remained silent, only half-listening to the woman's chatter as they slowly moved forward in the line.
But when they finally reached the ticket booth, a sign was put up: "Tickets Sold Out."
"Aww, tough luck! Don't worry, I'll fill you in on everything when I get out!" the woman said, waving her ticket with a grin before disappearing inside.
Frustrated and annoyed, Lyra marched toward the guard stationed at the theater door.
"Sorry, but without a ticket, you can't enter," the guard said as soon as he saw her approach.
Lyra raised her hand to silence him. "Could you please tell Miss Giselle that Lyra wants to see her?" she asked, forcing herself to speak in the friendliest tone possible, despite her irritation.
The guard frowned, his voice stern, "I'm sorry, but we can't disturb the artists while they're preparing."
Lyra understood his reaction. It was probably not the first time someone claimed to know some actor just to get backstage. But Giselle was in another level.
"Please, just this once," she pleaded softly. "At least tell her I'm here."
Of course, she could have tried sneaking in or finding another way, but exhaustion weighed her down. Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, the guard hesitated.
"Alright, I'll try. Wait here," he finally said.
Lyra nodded and leaned against a nearby pillar, waiting.
Almost ten minutes passed with no sign of the guard returning, and she began to consider leaving. 'Maybe I just won't get to see her today. I'll try another time,' she thought, turning to leave.
But just as she was about to walk away, a familiar voice called out to her. "Miss Lyra, my Lady is waiting."
Lyra turned to see Mr. Rowan approaching. She smiled faintly, nodding as he led her inside.
He guided her through the bustling backstage area, where actors were getting ready for their performances, some of them eyeing Lyra with curiosity.
Mr. Rowan stopped in front of a door, knocking softly before opening it to reveal a dressing room filled with large mirrors and costumes hanging on racks.
Inside, several actors and staff were preparing for the show, but Lyra's eyes immediately locked onto Giselle, who had risen from her chair and was hurrying toward her.
"Lyra! You have no idea how worried I've been! Where have you been?!" Giselle exclaimed, cupping Lyra's cheeks in her hands, her own cheeks puffed out slightly with concern, her eyebrows knit together.
Lyra was momentarily taken aback by Giselle's reaction, then let out a soft chuckle. No one had ever been so worried about her before.