For rating, disclaimer, author's notes, etc, please see the first chapter.
Dedicated to: vino-chan
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Sophie whiled away the time of the long show slowly, even remaining in her chair during the two intermissions between acts. She amused herself by mouthing lines along with actors, or reciting monologues in her head a split-second ahead of the delivery. At times she would admire her own composure, carefully regulating the curve of an arm or the timbre of her breathing to make it sound calmer, more natural. She was just telling herself that the worst was over; that the opera was almost done and she could begin to relax and breathe normally again, when the song started; her song started, and she froze, paralyzed in her seat. That Belladonna Gracehart was flat on the ascending aria, or that she scooped to the highest note, and even then it came out weak and wavery did nothing to soothe her temper. That the piccolo player started the third refrain in the wrong key, and that the curtain began to fall just a split second before it was supposed to, taking attention away from the graceful ballet going on below did nothing to calm her rage 1. While the rest of the audience tumbled out of their seats in order to give the cast and chorus a standing ovation, Sophie stayed stalwartly in her place, a heavy cloud over her brow. Finally the house lights were ignited, the outer doors were opened, and Howl carefully helped Sophie out of her seat, prattling on about the superb performance and magnificent presentation.

The after-party (Sophie had instinctively known that if there were any parties going on, Howl would find a way to be a part of them) was not held in the lobby as Sophie had feared, but instead was in a more secluded, tasteful salon, with hors-d'oeuvres and champagne littering every available surface. Sophie stood impatiently by the punch bowl, waiting for Howl's insatiable need for socializing and attention to be filled, when her eyes fell on a sight that could only have come from her worst nightmares. There was Mademoiselle Gracehart, the viperous Prima Donna from the show at the arm of Giuseppe Macambre himself – owner of the Opera house, and the entire related establishment – and, fawning over the two of them was Howl. The glass in Sophie's hand began to shake uncontrollably, so she set it down hard enough to cause the contents to slosh over the sides. Ignoring the stares of the surrounding patrons, she did the only thing she could think of. Boldly snaking a gloved arm around Howl's, she half curtsied to the other pair and greeted them with a stiff,

"Mademoiselle, Monsieur."

"Ah!" Howl murmured, "Monsieur Macambre, Mademoiselle Gracehart, allow me to introduce Sophie Hatter." The women exchanged brief nods, and Macambre briefly touched Sophie's fingertips to his lips with a quiet 'enchantée'.

"It really was a beautiful performance," Howl continued wherever he had left off in the conversation. "I understand that the Macambre operas are written specially for the singers?"

"It is true," Macambre answered in a light Elletalien accent 2. Sophie raised an eyebrow at the display; when she had known him, Macambre had spoken perfect Inglish. "Our operas are written, one every three years, for the best student of our voice school."

"Really?" Howl asked. "So there's only one new opera of yours every three years." Mademoiselle Gracehart nodded her ascent.

"Although," she continued, hiding a smile behind a lacy fan, "The older operas don't do badly either."

Sophie took the opportunity, while Howl was interrupting himself in his haste to proclaim his assurance of that to the lady, to carefully scrutinize the pair in front of her. It was plain from both of their faces that they had no idea who she was; whether she was glad of that or sorry she couldn't decide. It was also very evident that Belladonna was very much in admiration of Howl, showing him an uncommon amount of deference for her imposing character. The most worrisome part about this observation was that it was evident that Howl returned the admiration. It was obvious in his sidelong, admiring glances, and in his brilliant, flirtatious smiles, and in the way he held Sophie a little farther away from him then he ought, as if trying to show as little connection as possible 3.

"How many students are there in the voice school?" Howl asked, changing the subject.

"Quite a few." Again it was Belladonna that answered. "The largest branch is here, in Kingsbury, but there are many smaller branches in other towns."

"How is the best student singled out?"

"There is a test," Macambre said in his odd, fake accent. "An audition, if you will, held here in Kingsbury. All the children of the music school of an appropriate age travel here to audition for a panel of judges, consisting of all the voice masters and myself. The total number can be quite alarming. How many were there in your year, my dear?" he asked, turning to Belladonna.

"I think there were about sixty."

"Are the music schools very selective?" Howl asked, trying to keep Belladonna talking.

"Yes, very," answered Macambre. "Every year three hundred or more girls may audition, and half as many boys, and that is only here in Kingsbury."

Howl made an impressed cluck with his tongue.

"How many children are accepted into the school?" Sophie asked finally, grudgingly, after a moment of silence Howl obviously expected her to fill. Again, that seductive tinkle of laughter, covered by the fan, filled the air.

"All of the children enrolled in the school must take part in performances as part of their training. We only take as many children as there are openings in the cast."

"I see," Howl said. "So do the younger children work on things like costumes and sets?" Macambre answered in the affirmative. "What do the children who are enrolled in music schools in towns without established operas do?"

"They focus more intensively on their studies," Belladonna answered. "Many of them aren't full-time students in those cases, they just come for three hours after they're done at school or at work. Every once in a while an opera will tour through, and then they're required to work on that." A teasing glance from Mademoiselle Gracehart made Howl determined to make her the focal point of the conversation once more.

"You said that there were sixty children who all tried out for the part of Prima Donna?" Howl asked. "You must be very talented to be singled out like that."

Sophie, Mademoiselle Gracehart, and Monsieur Macambre all froze. Belladonna recovered first, and leaning forward in a confidential manner, almost whispered to him,

"You know it was a bit of a scandal – I didn't win my year!"

"Oh?" Howl asked, obviously surprised.

"No," Belladonna continued, "I was supposed to be the Seconda Donna."

"It's true," Macambre swiftly entered into the conversation. "It was the only time we have ever had the runner up take the lead in someone else's opera."

"You may have noticed that the part didn't quite seem to fit my personality," Belladonna murmured, smiling coyly at Howl.

"Not at all," he returned, touching her arm casually to complete the reassurance. Macambre smiled.

"Yes, and with a custom-written opera, as ours are, it just shouldn't happen. But there were several… oppositions to the original winner." Howl raised his eyebrows, silently prompting a more detailed response. At his side, Sophie's breath came shallow and fast, and her hands felt clammy inside her gloves. She clutched at Howl's arm too tightly, but he didn't notice.

"Well, for one thing, after she won she refused to stay here in the capitol. She insisted upon going back to her country village."

"I heard she had an ailing family member who she couldn't leave," interjected Mademoiselle Gracehart, but Macambre brushed it aside.

"And, although she was one of the most talented singers I have heard in my years as proprietor of this establishment, her appearance was too plain to make much of a sensation upon audiences."

"You do need a certain sort of glamour or finesse to work on the stage," Howl agreed, meeting Belladonna's eye for approval. "What happened to the girl?"

"She never reappeared after the first presentation of the score. We contacted her music instructor, but he never answered on the part of her whereabouts. She truly did drop off the face of the earth."

"I see," Howl murmured. "And… what was her name?"

"After winning the Grande Selection you give up your given name," Belladonna replied. Macambre nodded.

"Her stage name was Aglaia Duvall. Other than that, I know not."

The world began to tilt sickeningly around Sophie. Even as Howl turned to Macambre and began to ask if he himself had any students, Sophie suddenly lost her footing and slipped onto Howl's shoulder.

"Mademoiselle, are you all right?" Macambre asked, as Howl helped her stand up straighter.

"You really should get her home, Monsieur," Belladonna murmured. "It is late, and she looks very unwell. You have a carriage waiting?"

Macambre summoned their carriage and had their things called for. Howl helped Sophie stumble weakly out into the cool night air. Away from the influence of the vixen Prima Donna and her master she recovered quickly, and was able to alight into the carriage with little help from Howl. They had sat in silence for a few minutes, when Howl asked suddenly,

"Sophie, are you all right?" Sophie tried to bite back the sharp retort, but it was out before she could stop it.

"It's all the same to you. I had to faint into your arms before you'd pay one whit of attention to me." Howl was momentarily stunned by the conviction in her reply. Slowly a frown drew at his mouth.

"Well, if that isn't the best I ever heard," he muttered finally. "You faked ill just to get away! You know we could have left if you had asked. I even asked you this afternoon whether you wouldn't prefer to go home and you told me full speed ahead!"

Sophie's only answer was to glare at him across the dark carriage cabin.

"Sophie, normally you're very sensible, but I just won't be able to take you anywhere if you become jealous every time I look at a beautiful woman."

Without talking, Sophie lurched for the bell, and yanked it hard, bringing the carriage to an abrupt stop. Without so much as a word or a glance she threw open the carriage door and stepped out into the night.

"Sophie, what…? Come back in here –" Howl began, but Sophie cut him off effectively by shooting off down the street, hot tears blurring her vision. Her impaired eye-sight hardly mattered, as she didn't know her way around Kingsbury anyway. She had been dodging around random corners for about three minutes when she felt the feather-soft embrace of one of Howl's spells envelop her, and when she looked up again she was in the market square of Market Chipping.

She didn't consider how much magic it must have taken Howl to transport her half-way across the country, or how worried he had sounded when she had gotten down from the carriage. All she cared about was how quickly she could get to Cesari's and pour her story out to Lettie's compassionate ear.

She finally reached the bakery and ducked into an alley that would take her around the bakery to where the family and her sister had their residences.

She threw herself at the door, rage and desperation giving her strength, and pounded at it hard, calling her sister's name all the while.

It felt like a long time, but in actuality was only a few moments before a candle light appeared in one of the upper rooms, footsteps could be heard on the stair, and the master of the house threw open the door, carrying a lantern and a cane, apparently to use as a cudgel. The rest of the household appeared moments later, and Lettie threw herself forward and drew Sophie into the house.

Sophie was hustled inside and up to her sister's rooms, where there was hot tea and biscuits and a fresh nightgown already laid out. Lettie made Sophie sit quietly for several minutes, forcing food and drink on her. Finally, when Sophie was calm, Lettie put an arm around her and said,

"Now, darling, tell me all about it." Sophie sniffled for a few more seconds before collecting the composure to cry out,

"He took me to Charité!" Lettie blinked, surprised.

"He didn't," she said, quite calmly.

"He did!" Sophie wailed.

"He wouldn't," Lettie murmured, still in the same tone.

"He would."

"The bastard."

"I know!" Sophie yelled, and was shushed by her sister, who hissed something about her masters being light sleepers at her.

"What precisely happened?" her sister asked finally. Sophie took a deep breath, and the whole tale came tumbling out of her, almost completely unintelligibly, as she began with the way Howl and Belladonna had admired each other, worked her way back to the night before, and then finished with her sudden dizziness. After she was done with her story, her sister murmured several soothing reassurances to her, coaxed her into the laid out nightgown and convinced her to get a few hours sleep.

Sophie was woken early by the clamorings and clankings of baking sheets and ovens and the smell of baking bread. Her sister was not in her rooms, being already at work, when Sophie tumbled out of bed, but a cold breakfast was laid out for her, and her clothes from yesterday were nicely pressed and hanging from the door to the closet. After contemplating for a moment or two, Sophie put on her own clothes, but borrowed a dough-stained apron from her sister's chest of drawers and made her way downstairs.

She found her sister arranging platters of cookies for the counter displays, attending to the few early-morning regulars who stopped off for a bite before hurrying on their ways.

"Oh, no, darling, you go ahead and sit down," Lettie advised Sophie. Sophie thought about arguing, but eventually took off her sister's apron, and folding it neatly, placed it on her chair behind the counter.

"I should probably be getting home soon, anyway," she said regretfully. Lettie pursed her lips and smiled at the same time; she knew it was the right decision, but she didn't like the idea of her elder sister living with a man she wasn't tied to in any way, especially one with such a bad reputation as Horrible Wizard Howl.

"Sophie," Lettie called after her as she was making her way to the door, "as much as it hurts, he didn't know." Sophie gave her sister an almost imperceptible nod of understanding, if not of acceptance, and continued on through the door and out onto the street. The familiar, peaceful surroundings mollified her temper enough that by the time she got to her front door she was planning what she should make for lunch and dinner.

For some reason, it did not surprise her as much as it should to see Giuseppe Macambre in deep discussion with Howl at her kitchen table. The conversation stopped abruptly upon her entrance. Howl was eyeing her warily, as if she was a time bomb and he didn't know at what time she was set to detonate. Macambre stood up politely and gave her a small nod.

"Mademoiselle, I hope you're feeling better." Sophie managed to fix a smile on her face as she replied,

"I am, thank you. Get out of my house." Macambre blinked in astonishment at her brusque words.

"Sophie," Howl warned. Sophie turned calm eyes on him. "You remember what Monsieur Macambre was talking about last night? The Prima Donna who disappeared?" Sophie raised her eyebrows slightly, but other than that made no reply.

"After our conversation I began to feel guilty about my oversight of never locating her or contacting her before now. I came to the wizard with the best reputation in Kingsbury, and it was to my surprise to find your… ah…" Here Macambre trailed off, looking at Sophie's left hand and noticing the absence of a wedding band.

"If you please," Sophie said stiffly, "drop that ridiculous accent. It's giving me a headache. And, Monsieur Macambre, if you do not know who I am, you should." As the confusion in the man's eyes showed no hint of clearing, Sophie continued on in exasperation, "Monsieur Macambre, you came here to find your lost starlet, the one you let slip through your fingers because she was too plain to make it on the stage. You have found her. You need not feel any more pangs of conscience over me. Please leave." Sophie didn't dare take her eyes off Macambre's face, but she could easily guess the look of wonder that was passing over Howl's.

"Aglaia," Macambre whispered. He stepped forward, as if to embrace her or shake her hand, but Sophie stepped away from him.

"My name is not Aglaia. My name is Sophie Hatter. This is the third time I have asked you to exit my home and leave me in peace."

"But don't you see, this is wonderful!" Macambre exclaimed. "My dear, we can reaccept you into the music school, we can retrain you, make you a Prima Donna again –"

"Monsieur Macambre." Sophie's voice was flat and cold, the tone of voice she used on Markl when he misbehaved. There was no arguing with that voice. "You could not reaccept me even if you wanted to." Both Macambre and Howl raised their eyebrows at the note of pride in her voice. "After the death of my father, I ruined it, permanently. I screamed into my pillow for two hours every day, to ensure that I could never go back to what I had left."

Macambre opened his mouth, but Sophie cut him off by raising one hand. She walked to the door and drew it open upon the Kingsbury sidewalk. "This is my choice, this is my life. You may not think there is anything fulfilling about raising a family and running a business, but I do." Her voice almost broke, but she quickly regained control of herself. "I couldn't care less for costumes, and stages, and sets. I need to be surrounded by those I love, those I care about. I always have. Now, leave my house before I have the most powerful sorcerer in all Ingary forcefully expel you from it." Macambre left silently, without so much as a glance at Howl. He paused a moment to touch Sophie's arm, as a silent parting, and then was gone.

Sophie shut the door with a bang and a sigh of relief. Howl awkwardly came up behind Sophie and put an arm around her, not sure how she would respond. Encouraged when she leaned into his arm, instead of pulling away, he tucked her into a tight embrace. He held her for several minutes before whispering into her ear,

"Sophie, I'm sorry. Is there… Is there anything I can do?" It took Sophie several seconds to respond, and when she did, the answer surprised Howl.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Howl asked, looking down into her eyes.

"Yes, there is. You could come with me to the cemetery to visit my father."
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1 All miniscule errors, ones that would go unnoticed by the rest of the audience.
2 Elletalian: another little tweaking of a country name.
3 Again, all these things are true, but Sophie is seriously over-reacting.

All right. I know that this chapter is a little long, and the chapter breaks for this story are rather... odd, but I didn't write it originally with chapters in mind, and when it came time to break it apart, this was the best way I could figure how.

Also, as I don't have very much description of the character of Belladonna Gracehart, mostly just dialogue, this last clue should hopefully shed a little bit of light on who this character could possibly be and be from.

CLUE: This character is the only female character in the book as it takes place. She is described as a bit of a seductress, a 'tart'. The reader never learns her Christian name.

All right, guesses, anyone? I'll post the answer along with the dedication this last chapter once I've gotten a correct answer. Review please, and take care, all!

ANSWER: Please don't look at this if you're still planning to guess! Belladonna Gracehart is based off of Curley's wife, from John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men.