THE THEATRE
where it's another world
by Kay Willow
There's another world here
Beyond shop windows
Upon the pavement
Where you wave goodbye
His first batch of friends was already coming through for him.
"You've received three invitations, Young Master," Reme told him at breakfast the next morning. He had insisted on eating with the family, although Shelton was not present and Azuma was silent, as usual. "Two are from simple ladies, and one from an established lord."
The Theatre had its own slang, as Erts knew from long experience there. "Established" in this context meant one of the nobles who had cliques of their own, the highest of the Theatre's internal hierarchy. Most of the aristocratic visitors stayed a year, sometimes even two, but an established lord or lady would remain in the Theatre until, inevitably, its one and only mistress turned her hand against them.
"Who is the lord?" he asked coolly, sipping at his coffee. It was somewhat bland. He awarded Rome a brief smile for her efforts, and she blushed with shy pleasure..
Reme was taken somewhat aback. He had expected Erts to take the invitations and look them over himself, no doubt. After an awkward moment, he looked down at the envelopes in his hands. "Umm... This one is from Count Hadrian Farr. He requests you for a walk-about."
"A walk-about?" Little more than a walking party, really; he couldn't count the number of times he'd seen a veritable parade of fluttering silks and frolicking laughter march past him in the early afternoons, presumably belonging to titled young people hiding somewhere amidst them. It was a good opportunity, to be certain. Erts had been afraid it would be something stagnant, like a private ball, or a masquerade party. But a walk-about would get him to meet far more people, and visit the shops.
It's perfect,> he thought, struck by the notion. I could show off my wealth and generosity to hundreds of people at once. Perhaps I could buy the entire assemblage iced candy, or something.>
With any luck, he would be able to repay Hadrian Farr's curious invitation by stealing his clique.
And,> Erts thought, amused, perhaps something else of his, as well.>
"Young Master?"
"Erts," he corrected automatically. He suspected that if too many people called him that, he wouldn't remember to answer one time.
"Sir Erts," Reme compromised. "Would you like me to send an acceptance to Count Farr?"
"Yes, please do, Reme." Erts smiled again. "Thank you very much."
Reme nodded and returned to his breakfast. Rome glanced down at her plate, flushing jealously at her brother's praise.
She's taken a fancy to me,> Erts realized. Poor girl. Doesn't she know the rules of shopping in the Theatre? You can look all you like, but all you'll do is hurt yourself if you dream about having something that isn't in your class.>
Are you thinking weird thoughts yet? ^__^