Chapter Two
Klaus finally reached the end of the marble staircase and through the same doors, he hoped, that Aunt Marguerite had gone through minutes before. What he saw as he made his way into a seat near the middle of the theatre surprised him. The ballerinas were onstage. They all had the same rehearsal outfit on, but Sophia's face was most prominent. She was smiling gaily out into the empty theater. Her movement was graceful, her face told a story. He hardly expected such a bouncy girl to convey so many… things at the same time.
Next, his eyes went finally found Aunt Marguerite standing by the curtain, watching her dancers with a keen eye. Her face was blank as she clapped out the rhythm along with the full orchestra and yelled things in French to the girls onstage. But those blue eyes of hers; there was something in them that made her face look less stern, younger, softer.
It seemed that Sophia's eyes had found him as she winked at Klaus from her position onstage and did a few extra dance moves to show off. One of the unsmiling girls shot her a menacing glare, but she merely smiled sweetly and continued dancing, her bare and slender arms accentuating each movement she made on her tiptoes, each line of music coming from the orchestra.
"What in God's name were you thinking out there?" Henrietta Quick snapped once the girls skipped off into the wings. She was the quintessential fiery, hot-tempered red head and Henrietta knew it.
Sophia rolled her eyes. "Relax, I was just fooling around! I won't do it later tonight, I swear." She dramatically placed her hand to her heart.
Henrietta was fuming. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead stomped off into her private dressing room. The dark haired ballerina was about to let out a sigh of relief until the door suddenly opened again. "Sophia!" she screamed, "I'm twenty three. I'm getting too old for this job. I'll be retiring in a few years! Everyone's saying you're going to be the next Prima Ballerina, and I don't want my successor to act so foolishly even when rehearsing!" With that, she slammed the door.
"Oh, Lord," Sophia groaned, retying the pink ribbon around her neck. She slipped through the curtain and made her way into the auditorium, her sparkling brown eyes finding Klaus again.
Klaus stiffened when he saw her come out from one of the wings. He had only known this girl for less than half and hour and already she was making him uncomfortable. "Um, h-h-hi," he stammered, avoiding her gaze. "Y-y-you were g-great up there. I-I enjoyed it."
"You did, did you?" Sophia replied, leaning on the arm of his seat in the aisle. "I was hoping you'd come down and watch me sooner or later." She smirked. Her smile faded when she heard screaming and things breaking.
"W-what's happening?"
"Henrietta the ballet star is getting into a tiff with Mam'selle. It happens every opening night. She thinks she's the star of the show, that one. Has no idea that the people usually come to see the opera, not the dance."
"Why not?" he thought out loud. "Dancing is an art form too. I read up on that a bit before …" Klaus trailed off, not looking at her.
Sophia nodded solemnly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I read about you three in the newspaper. It's alright if you don't want to talk about it."
He swallowed hard, trying not to turn pink when she touched him.
"Sophia!" there was that sharp voice again. "Henrietta said-" Aunt Marguerite stopped short, seeing her talking to Klaus. "I shall see you all at dinner, correct?" Both nodded. "Sophia, would you kindly show the Baudelaires to the dining room?"
"Yes, of course."
By the time the two made their way to exit the theatre, Violet was nearing the bottom of the steps, Sunny in tow as usual. There was a soft knock at the entrance to the opera house. Her keen eyes spotted a dashing young man on the other side of the door. He seemed like he was looking for something...or someone.
The oldest Baudelaire put her younger sister down and slowly pulled open the door. "Um, can I help you with something?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, I'm looking for either a Marguerite or a Fortunato?" he asked, his voice deep and soothing. The young man smiled at her, but Violet was too smart to just fall for a charming face.
"If you just hold on one second, I can get-"
"Violet?" Sophia asked, appearing next to her, Klaus on her other side. "Who is this?"
"Good evening. My name is Oliver. Oliver Browne." He replied with a charismatic smile, winking at Sophia, who was turning pink in return. Klaus stiffened again and he shot Violet a look. He figured this was just out of envy, but he did not trust this Oliver one bit.
"Oliver Browne!" she exclaimed finally. "Right! Mam'selle was talking about you. You're here to direct the next show we're doing?" She looked him over, smiling to herself. "You look awfully young to be a director. When I first saw you I thought maybe you might be a tenor, or something. Or even a dancer. We haven't had a male dancer in years. I never pictured the director of our production of La Boheme to be this young!"
"Oh. "He laughed once she was done speaking. "I've had much experience, believe me."
"Please enter," she replied with her usual sweet smile, stepping aside. "You can join us for dinner."