“Good? It was far more than just good. Do you know how many times they cried ‘Bravo!’? The final aria was especially exquisite. Speaking of which, for the next performance…”

　　Meanwhile, an errand boy brought over several bouquets and piled them into Ginevra’s arms. After checking the cards tucked inside, she clicked her tongue and shoved the flowers right back into his hands.

　　“Not these predictable patrons! Aren’t there any flowers from Ezio? He was sitting in the guest box today!”

　　“W-well, it doesn’t seem like he sent anything in particular…”

　　“Ugh, seriously! Just what on earth do I have to do to catch his eye?!”

　　Over in a corner, the chorus members listened, exchanging bitter smiles and knowing looks. Massaging her shoulders, weary from the performance, the senior chorus member spoke up.

　　“Looks like even our ever-triumphant prima donna has her troubles. Living like that must only make her miserable, wouldn’t you say?”

　　“If she wants to work with him that badly, she could just go to him directly and put herself forward. It wouldn’t even be difficult for someone like Ginevra.”

　　“It’s because of her pride. She wants the title of ‘the soprano chosen by the genius composer.’”

　　After that cynical remark, the senior picked up the teapot to soothe her throat. She tipped the spout toward the cup of Hwani, who sat sipping her tea off to one side.

　　“Here, Hwani, have some more. You could have been seriously hurt earlier, right? Think of it as getting the bad luck out of the way so the show goes well.”

　　Voices chimed in from all around. “That’s right, exactly.”

　　Hwani took the second cup with quiet gratitude. Self-conscious under the sudden spotlight, she ducked her head, trying to hide her flustered expression.

　　“I’m sorry. I interrupted the flow of the performance. I didn’t realize it at the time, but people told me my scream was quite loud.”

　　“Oh, please! Anyone would scream when caught completely off guard! Honestly, it turned out for the best. Who knows? You might have made an impression as the ‘Bean Fairy who had an accident.’ For those of us in the chorus, any chance to stand out is a blessing.”

　　The senior let out a hearty laugh and gulped down her tea.

　　Was she right? Hwani turned the round teacup in her hands and gave a bittersweet smile. Across the room, Ginevra caught her eye once more, surrounded by all sorts of people as she received congratulatory bouquets. It was a sight Hwani had witnessed countless times, yet for some reason, her heart ached today.

　　They had both entered this world purely out of a love for singing. Yet unlike the elite Ginevra, Hwani was profoundly grateful just to be in the chorus.

　　If only, someday, I could be celebrated for my singing like that…

　　Feeling as though even this were a presumptuous ambition, Hwani discreetly rubbed her cheek. She lacked the confidence to drink with the hearty gusto of the senior and merely kept sipping her tea. Just then, something caught her eye.

　　Hm?

　　A silhouette hovered outside the greenroom door. Just as she was wondering where this visitor had come from, the figure finally stepped inside.

　　It was a boy who had not yet reached his full height, with sharp, feline eyes.

　　Was he an errand boy sent to deliver a congratulatory card to Ginevra?

　　As Hwani puzzled over this, swallowing her tea, the boy looked around for a moment, spotted her, and let out a soft exclamation. He walked briskly over and spoke.

　　“Found you. The Bean Fairy who had the accident in Act 1!”

　　When the boy suddenly spoke to her so familiarly, the nearby chorus members looked bewildered.

　　“Hwani, do you know him?”

　　“N-no? Um, who are…?”

　　“I’m running an errand.”

　　The boy answered crisply, then rose onto his tiptoes and whispered in her ear.

　　“My Master is looking for you. Slip out to the alley behind the theater later, and come alone. Don’t tell anyone.”

　　Hwani had no idea what was going on. Just as she reached out to stop him and ask for an explanation, the boy gave a quick nod and slipped away without looking back.

　　She was left with only the chorus members around her.

　　“What was that? What is it?”

　　“Why the whispering?”

　　Under their curious gazes, Hwani flinched and froze. After a brief pause, she came up with an uncharacteristic lie.

　　“Uh, well… he said they were glad I wasn’t hurt. It seems someone in the audience was worried about me.”

　　“Is that all? Here I was thinking Hwani had finally found herself a patron.”

　　Self-deprecating chuckles broke out among the chorus members.

　　Sensing their bitterness, Hwani hung her head. Hardly any audience member would ever pay close attention to the chorus—mere bit players who were not even part of the supporting cast.

　　Even so, who on earth was this person, this ‘Master’, who had gone out of his way to seek her out?

　　Belatedly, Hwani’s heart began to thud. What could he possibly want?

　　Just who was asking to see her?

　　With her pulse racing, she washed off her stage makeup and changed into her street clothes. Turning down invitations to walk home together, she waited for an opportune moment and headed toward the alley behind the theater. Leaving behind the brilliant glow of the gas lamps surrounding the building, she stepped into the mouth of the dark alleyway.

　　Inwardly, Hwani was nervous. She had answered the summons wondering if it might be her first fan—a glorious thought—or perhaps an official looking to cast her in another production.

　　Yet it could just as easily be the worst-case scenario, an old man preying on a powerless, nameless singer, demanding she sleep with him in exchange for favors.

　　Uh, if that’s what he’s here for, I’ll run away immediately…

　　Doing her best to suppress her fear, Hwani paced the dim alley.

　　This seemed like the right place to meet. Had he gone somewhere else? Where could he be?

　　It was then.

　　With the dazzling, brightly lit theater behind him, a tall shadow suddenly emerged.

　　Hwani gasped. At first, she couldn’t make out his face. The man was large in stature, and the backlight cast him in a pitch-black silhouette.

　　But the moment he took a step forward and closed the distance between them, Hwani’s eyes widened in sheer shock, and she covered her mouth with both hands.

　　“You are…?”

　　Long silver hair hung down, catching the moonlight. Ash-gray eyes, cold as metal, quietly swept down over Hwani.

　　He had striking features that not even the darkness could obscure, with the kind of looks that made him the talk of the salons alongside his extraordinary talent. It was undeniably a face Hwani remembered.

　　There was no mistaking him. It was identical to the portrait she had seen in the newspapers, and the very face she had stolen glimpses of from afar at the theater’s conductor’s podium.

　　At that moment, the details she had rattled off to the newcomer before the curtain rose flashed through Hwani’s mind.

　　Full name: Ezio da Ponte. Age: twenty-seven. Sex: male.

　　A genius composer renowned not only throughout the empire, but across the entire continent.

　　For some reason, the man she had idolized only in her dreams was standing right before her eyes.

　　He calmly lowered his gaze.

　　“Good evening. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

　　Tossing out the perfunctory greeting, as if any further pleasantries were unnecessary, he went straight to the point.

　　“I watched the performance earlier. Your ad-lib was rather good. Staying that composed despite a sudden mishap shows you have decent stage presence, Bean Fairy.”

　　Hwani’s vision blurred. Her ears buzzed so loudly that she could barely process what he was saying.

　　With only a single shred of reason left, she answered by reflex.

　　“Y-you… remember me?”

　　She was merely a bit player with a handful of lines.

　　The man twisted his lips into a smirk, as if he had just heard something utterly ridiculous.

　　“Why wouldn’t I? Your name and role are printed in the program anyway. The stage belongs to the chorus just as much as the leads; do you take me for an idiot who watches an opera and can’t even remember what happened?”

　　“N-no. N… no…!”

　　Hwani shook her head frantically. Put that way, Ezio was right. An ordinary spectator might miss it, but this was a man who had personally staged countless successful operas; of course even the smallest roles would catch his eye.

　　Yet Hwani couldn’t think any further than that.

　　Completely unable to grasp the situation, she could only stand there, flustered. Merely processing the reality that the man she admired so deeply had summoned her was overwhelming enough.

　　Ezio’s voice pierced through the dizzying fog in her mind.

　　“You know who I am, don’t you?”

　　His tone implied that anyone working in this field would, of course, know him. It was true, and Hwani snapped her head up.

　　“Ah, u-um, yes. Yes!”

　　“I dislike dragging things out, so I’ll be blunt. I’m going to invite you to my home, so come without question when I call for you.”

　　It was practically an order. But the man’s phrasing didn’t matter. Shocked by what he had just said, Hwani turned to stone. Her mind, shrouded in darkness only a moment ago, went completely blank.

　　“Pardon? …Why?”

　　At that, the look in the man’s gray eyes sharpened in an instant. The faint amusement vanished from his face, replaced by dead seriousness as he stared her down.

　　“Why, you ask?”

　　“Pardon?”

　　“Because today, I heard your scream.”

　　“My scream?”

　　The man reached out both hands and gripped her tightly by the shoulders. More unbelievable words poured from his lips.

　　“Let me hear more of your screams. In my hands, they will become an undeniable masterpiece!”