Ubaldo soon came to realise that Carlotta Guidicelli had many admirers and patrons. He also came to realize that, like any other principal soprano, she enjoyed being the center of attention. If she felt she wasn't getting the proper amount of attention, she took it as a personal slight and pouted. Or threw tantrums. Or screamed. All in all, normal behaviour for a diva.
But one evening, after Marquis Vendome, one of her usual patrons, didn't arrive at her dressing room following a persomance as promised, Ubaldo found her shouting at her dresser.
"Bella! Why such words? That Vendome has done nothing for you the past few years. Why do you act in such a way? He is not worth it!" Ubaldo said as he moved her toward the divan, trying to calm her down. "You know you are the famous La Carlotta. Remember the beautiful music we made together tonight? You were magnificent. I would be half the singer I am today without you." It was true – the first time they had sung together, Ubaldo was in disbelief. He had never heard two voices blend so perfectly together. It was as if fate itself brought him to Paris to sing with her. Well, that's what Ubaldo believed, anyway.
Carlotta muttered something from behind her handkerchief. Ubaldo couldn't quite make out what she said, but it didn't really matter. He knew his job at times such as these: appease La Carlotta at all costs and keep your job. That was the job of every tenor before him and was most likely the job of every principal tenor at every opera house in the world. Of course, he could simply disappear whenever she had fits like this, but that would only stave off the inevitable. Really, the only good course of action for a principal tenor was to make sure the principal soprano was happy at all times.
For Ubaldo, he didn't mind this job as much as he had as the principal tenor in Milan. At least here, he had started to fall for Carlotta and the words he spoke to make her feel better came from his heart and weren't made up.
After what seemed an eternity to Ubaldo, Carlotta began to calm down and stopped crying. He left her sitting on the divan and crossed the heavily decorated dressing room to her wash basin. Picking up a cloth, he wetted it and returned to her side, cleaning the marks on her face where the makeup she had neglected to remove had started to run down her face and neck. Silently, she took the cloth from his hand and walked to her dressing table, sat down, and finished removing her makeup while Ubaldo watched her.
Even after a tantrum, she was beautiful, he thought, and such a contradiction in temperment. Strong enough to yell at anyone when threatened, but scared of her own abilities to the point that she needed constant affirmations from others. Perhaps it was the roles he'd played opposite her brought these feelings out faster. After all, he'd already pledged his undying love to her on stage, kissed her countless times (how Ubaldo loved being able to rehearse those scenes!), and even killed her while in a jealous rage in Carmen.
A knock at the door ended his reverie. Carlotta answered the door, admitting the Comte de Renard. Ubaldo let out a sigh. Thierry Renard was Carlotta's last lover. Ubaldo wasn't sure if the two were still seeing each other, or if either had moved on to someone else. He did know that Renard had married a year or two ago, and that's when the relationship had cooled somewhat. He wasn't about to ask her what their status was – it wasn't any of his business.
At least not yet.