4-17-2020 This was supposed to upload a while back and I realized it didn't. Sorry about that. Next chapter should be up in a few days. Hope you are all doing well and staying safe! ~ Gabrina

Ch 81

We arrived at the Ruby Pony at a quarter past seven, which was a full forty-five minutes before the start of the show.

A formal invitation had arrived at our rooms sometime around three in the afternoon, and after three hours of Alex and Lisette impatiently watching the minutes tick by, Julia finally relented and set out their clothes. They scrambled into their shared room and burst back into the main room grinning from ear to ear with excitement, barely able to contain themselves for their first theatrical experience.

Alex dutifully carried our invitation to the theater and handed it to a young woman who had propped the door open. She immediately skittered into the lobby and knocked on a door partially obscured by a staircase leading to the second floor.

"Pardon me, Henri, but they are here," she whispered.

The acoustics of the tiled lobby carried her voice to where we stood alone inside the otherwise vacant space. Alex turned in a full circle, his mouth gaping open as he took in the pale blue walls, two small chandeliers overhead, and polished tile floor.

"Who is that?" Alex asked, pointing to one of several portraits in the lobby.

"The owner, perhaps," I answered.

The young woman glanced over her shoulder at us before giving a quick nod into the doorway.

"Excellent," a man replied. "Most excellent."

A moment later, a much younger man than I expected strolled out of the office in a cranberry red suit. Lean and tall with jet black hair, he resembled a man depicted in every portrait adorning the lobby walls.

He crossed the lobby in long, quick strides and flashed a welcoming if not slightly nervous smile as he greeted us.

"Monsieur and Madame Kire, I presume?" he inquired, offering his hand. "My name is Henri Guillet. I am honored to make your acquaintance and do hope Tormage's beloved Pony lives up to your expectations."

Given that I had not expected to attend a musical performance with my wife and children on our visit to Tormage, I had no expectations whatsoever.

"We appreciate the invitation," I said.

"And the cheese," Alex said under his breath.

"Alex," Julia warned.

"Your generous gift was very much appreciated by all members of our family," I said before introducing my wife and our children.

"It was the least I could do, Monsieur," Henri said. "As one might imagine, we do not receive many notable guests in our town. We do, however, pride ourselves on impeccable hospitality here in Tormage."

"And the best entertainment," a feminine voice said.

Marie peeked her head through the door leading to the theater and offered a smile and a wave. Alex and Lisette gasped in unison and enthusiastically waved back.

"Our most popular performer," Henri proudly said.

Marie chuckled. "Your only performer."

"Not true," Henri replied. He gave his waistcoat a tug and stood a little straighter. "I play the piano at noon twice a week to a crowd of half a dozen patrons. I have regulars, Marie," he teased with a shake of his index finger.

Marie shook her head. "Ah, how could I forget the lunchtime entertainer? Now if you would excuse me, I must prepare for my performance. Kire Family, I look forward to your review after the show."

Offering a wave of her hand, Marie disappeared into the theater while Henri consulted his pocket watch. With thirty minutes remaining before the performance, Henri gave us a brief tour of the quaint theater. Given the size of the building there was not much to see aside from the paintings of his father Oscar Guilette adorning the walls on both the main and upper level and a glass case filled with over fifty miniature horses collected by Henri's father.

"We had started the renovations from a tavern to a theater when my father passed quite suddenly," Henri explained as we followed him up the stairway.

"My apologies. Was he ill?" I asked.

"His heart gave out in his sleep, as far as we could tell," Henri explained. "Unfortunately, he never saw the completed stage inside, but he was quite pleased with the progress. For many years we had the opportunity to host gatherings on the east side of the theater on an outdoor stage, but given the weather it wasn't always practical." He paused outside of a black curtain that separated the hall from the theater. "Marie said you heard her sing on our old stage many years ago."

I nodded. "I did. During a masquerade party thirty years ago."

"Yes, the fall masquerade. We still host that same gathering the week after our final harvest and I believe Marie has graced us with a performance every year since she was sixteen years of age. She celebrated her wedding here. Did she tell you that?"

"She did not."

"It's always been one of my most favorite events from the time I was a boy," Henri said. "I am glad you were able to experience such a wonderful time of the year in our little town."

I assumed that given his age, Henri had been an infant at the time I passed through Tormage. I wondered if his father had spoken to my uncle while enjoying entertainment and a meal.

"How long have you owned the theater?" Julia asked.

"The Pony has been in the family for almost forty years. I've had the pleasure of renovating it for the past nine." Henri held back the curtain, allowing Lisette and Alex to pass through first onto the narrow balcony that spanned the length of the back of the theater.

Lisette clutched Alex's arm and gasped dramatically as she took in her surroundings. I followed her gaze to the round tables and seats below with candlelight flickering in the middle of each table. There were two suits of armor on either side of the stage as well as garish wooden horses that kept with the overall theme of the establishment.

"Oh! It's so beautiful!" Lisette exclaimed.

Alex furrowed his brow and looked at Lisette. "It is a room full of tables with a big red curtain."

"Yes, but it's a very romantic shade of red. The color of roses," Lisette said with a blissful sigh. "I would like my first kiss to be on a balcony such as this. You're a boy, Alex, you simply don't understand romance."

Alex looked at Lisette as though she'd gone mad while Julia made no attempt to curb Lisette's dreamy notion of first kisses. Lisette was at least a decade away from her first kiss if I had any say in the matter, and as far as I was concerned, the longer she went without understanding romance or boys, the better.

"How many operas have you seen in Paris?" Henri asked Lisette and Alex as they took their seats.

"None," Alex answered. "But I have heard my father's operas hundreds of times, which I suppose is almost the same."

Lisette shyly sank into her chair. "None," she answered. "But I have always wanted to attend a performance."

"Then I am quite honored to host you both for your first musical performance. I hope you have an enjoyable evening here at The Ruby Pony."

The balcony consisted of four partitioned areas with four seats in a row and a long, knee-high table to hold food and drinks. The table had been hand painted with two red horses facing one another, both rearing up on their hind legs. Before leaving to attend other business around the theater, Henri assured us that the balcony was ours alone for the evening.

Marie took the small stage at precisely eight. Her husband lively played the piano-which was in the middle of the stage- and accompanied her on vocals for two folk songs that had the crowd below us stamping their feet and pounding on the tables as they sang along.

The formality of opera and orchestra performances that I had grown accustomed to over the years was replaced by a cozy, familial atmosphere. By the flickering candlelight we listened to the appreciative roar of the crowd. Mugs clanked together, waitresses weaved through the spaces between tables to refill drinks, while several patrons shouted requests for songs everyone in the town knew.

Lisette and Alex sat on the edge of their seats, both enamored by the experience while Julia tapped her fingertips against the back of my hand in time with the music. She leaned against me, and ever time I turned toward her, she smiled warmly and whispered how much she enjoyed herself.

Much to everyone's delight, refreshments and bite-sized cakes were brought up to the balcony by the same young lady who had escorted us into the theater during a brief intermission. Alex and Lisette were enthralled by the size of the cakes and the plates, which matched the tiny tea cups painted with running red horses.

"Look! There is Madame Amelie!" Lisette said as she pointed to the far right corner. She took a dainty sip of her tea and offered a delicate wave of her hand toward Amelie.

Amelie met my eye from across the theater and smiled warmly as I nodded back. Immediately I was reminded of the many times Madeline found me in the shadows. It had never mattered if I roamed the flies or sat in one of the vacant boxes during rehearsal; Madeline always seemed to know precisely where I was at any given moment. Dozens of people looked past me, but none found me the way Madeline could. It came as little surprise that after ten months of searching crowds in hopes of finding Amelie Batiste, Madeline had been the one who found me.

Marie sang for another forty-five minutes after the intermission, much to the delight of her adoring crowd. She still sang through her nose on occasion while the piano was not quite tuned properly, but none of that concerned the audience. She had presence on the stage and engaged the entire theater with witty banter that earned her applause and laughter-particularly during a song where she brayed like a donkey and made turkey calls.

I looked to Lisette on my left and watched as she grinned wildly, her eyes sparkling with wonder. Alex sat opposite Julia and nodded along to the melody, mouthing the easy chorus of a simple folk song.

By the time Marie walked off stage after her second encore, Alex and Lisette were practically floating on air.

"May we attend your opera when we return home?" Lisette asked.

"Please, Father, may we?" Alex pleaded.

"You may, but it isn't quite the same," I said warily.

They both looked curiously at me.

"It's more...polite, I suppose," Julia said delicately. "The audience remains quiet while the actors perform."

Alex frowned. "Can Marie come to Paris and perform? She would be much more entertaining," he asked.

The audience filed out of the theater within moments of the show's end. Henri met us at the top of the stairs and ushered us across the hall and down a second flight of stairs that led to the stage door and various back rooms.

Marie's husband, Paulo, greeted us first. He was shorter than Marie with shaggy dark hair and olive colored eyes that darted away when he quietly spoke. He seemed better suited for life behind the piano than in front of an audience or small crowd.

"I apologize for the piano," he said as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. "Needs a good tuning, I'm afraid, but we unfortunately don't have many musicians or such pass through regularly and sending someone from Rouen is quite expensive and impractical."

"If I had the tools, I would offer to tune it for you."

Paulo's eyes widened. "A famed composer, unmatched musician and tuner of instruments? Do you have blood and bones or strings and keys?"

I appreciated his flattery. "Perhaps a bit of both."

Marie exited from the theater door with Amelie at her side. The moment the two women appeared, Alex, Lisette and Julia applauded, which earned them curtsies from both women.

"You were wonderful," Julia said to Marie. "Absolutely wonderful, Marie."

"And you looked so beautiful," Lisette added.

"I liked when you made a sound like a turkey," Alex said.

Marie put her hand over her heart. "You are all so kind," she said before settling her gaze on me and offered a nervous smile. "I appreciate you attending our performance. It is an honor to perform for you."

"A most enjoyable evening," I said.

"Do I still sing out of my nose?" Marie teased. Her words were light, but she could not hide the consternation in her expression.

"You command the stage," I answered. "Technique can be taught, but genuinely holding the interest of the crowd is a talent at which you excel. The Ruby Pony is quite fortunate to have you as their leading lady."

Marie's bottom lip quivered. She clutched her husband's arm and took a deep, trembling breath, which at first alarmed me. "You have no idea how much your words mean to me. I will remember this for as long as I live."

Amelie put her arm around her sister. "I told you," she said, kissing her sister's cheek.

oOo

Given the late hour-and despite the protest from Amelie-Julia insisted that she not walk home alone in the dark.

"At least have Erik walk with you until you see the lights in the windows of your home. That will give us all better peace of mind."

"May I go as well?" Alex yawned.

"You can barely keep your eyes open," Julia pointed out. To my surprise, Alex didn't protest. He yawned a second time and rested his head against his mother's arm.

Marie and Oscar said their good-byes and headed in the opposite direction of the Batiste Farm while I handed Julia the key to our room and kissed her on the forehead before walking across the length of Tormage with Amelie.

"I am able to defend myself from robbers and ruffians," she said as she took on a fighter's stance and balled her hands into fists. "Jean-Marcus taught me well when we were children. He also gave me a knife, which I have in my boot."

"I have no doubt," I answered. "However, if I return to the Inn now, I will not be able to defend myself from Julia's wrath for not fulfilling my sworn duty of protection."

Amelie grinned. "She is truly wonderful."

"Better than I deserve," I admitted.

"How were your seats in the balcony?" Amelie asked once we reached the outskirts of Tormage. The road stretched out before us, the trees silvery in the moonlight. Frogs and crickets chirped in the brush, the melodies momentarily pausing as we approached where the unseen performers called to one another in the night.

"I think Alex would have preferred standing on stage next to Marie. He could barely contain himself."

"Ah, yes, I saw him leap to his feet to applaud several times," Amelie said with a chuckle. "I suppose you're correct in Alex wanting to be closer to the stage, but Henri and his brother spent the better part of the day making sure the theater was spotless and the balcony suitable for your visit. At first he had planned to seat you in front of the stage, but Marie and I both thought a bit more privacy was in order. After all, you are on holiday with your family and not on display like an animal for Tormage."

My heart stuttered. "On display like in the traveling fair?" I said, the edge in my voice uncontainable.

Amelie stared at me for a moment, her eyes slightly narrowed and lips forming an uncertain smile. "I beg your pardon?"

"Rouen," I said, turning my attention back to the road ahead.

"I don't understand. Have I said something to upset you?"

"The flyer from the traveling fair was in the pack with my uncle's belongings. It had a drawing of a person in chains, the son of the devil on display for all to see. A living horror," I said, quoting the advertisement.

Several long moments passed and uncomfortable silence stretched on while Amelie slowed her brisk pace. "Rouen?" she questioned. From the corner of my eye I saw her continue to stare at me as realization slowly flooded in. "Honesty, I had forgotten all about the flyer. I haven't seen it in years."

I had never forgotten the flyer or the fair, not for a single day since I had escaped from the Gypsies and made a home and a life for myself beneath the Opera House. The nightmares were always at my heels, pursuing me day and night. How extraordinary it must have been to simply forget such things, what a luxury I had never been afforded.

"Did you see it?" I asked without meeting her eye. "Did you see their obscene form of entertainment?"

Amelie went silent, which did nothing to calm my nerves or quiet my racing mind. We continued to walk side by side without much distraction as the air was damnably stagnant, the frogs and crickets silent, and the waning moon partially obscured behind cloud cover.

"Did you-" I pressed.

"No," she answered at last. "No, I did not see the fair. Jean-Marcus traveled alone to Rouen."

"And delivered a souvenir to his sister," I snapped.

Amelie looked at me again and I met her widened blue eyes with what I suspected was a hardened, unwavering glare. She appeared quite startled by my tone and I at last looked away, ashamed of myself for instigating an argument.

"After Marie found your uncle's belongings scattered at the grave, my mother worried you may have gotten turned around. Jean-Marcus had business in Rouen and said he would keep a lookout for you should you be wandering alone. Several days later he returned with the flyer and that evening I overheard him speaking to our mother about the fair while I made supper. When I asked my brother about his travels at the table, he dismissed me at once and forbid me to speak another word." Amelie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I found the flyer in his trouser pocket when Marie and I were washing clothes and I hid it in the barn."

"Why would you keep it?" I asked, my tone still unduly harsh.

"To travel to Rouen alone," Amelie answered. "To find you."

I blinked at her, unsure of how to properly respond as I had not expected anyone to look for me. "You have known all of these years?" I questioned.

Amelie shrugged. "I hoped it wasn't true, and then this afternoon you said you were delayed," Amelie said quietly. "That you had lost your way to Paris."

Anger and ugliness flitted through my thoughts but thankfully did not reach my tongue. "My way was lost for me," I replied. Dread weighed upon me, a heavy, sinking feeling.

"May I ask what happened?" she gently questioned.

My gut tightened, my skin prickling as I looked ahead, searching for a sign that we were near her home and the conversation could be ended, but we hadn't been walking for more than a few minutes and with our cadence reduced to a leisurely pace, I assumed we still had a good ten minutes before lights in the parlor came into view.

"I was taken by a family of Gypsies," I said gruffly. I glanced at Amelie from the corner of my eye, but she didn't reply. She kept her gaze trained on her boots as she walked beside me in agonizing silence, which made it impossible for me to gauge how she truly felt about my revelation. "They allowed me to bury my uncle," I said, keeping my voice low and even. "And then they took me."

I could not bear to speak of ropes and chains, of my clothing ripped from my body and belongings scattered and searched. Numbness dominated my original humiliation of being literally stripped bare and gaped at by every man within their traveling fair. Anatomically I was male and human, they decided, but bore the mark of the devil, and therefor I was not a boy. I was not truly human. They came to the conclusion that I was a strange monster and thus could be quite profitable as an oddity in their fair. I was an opportunity for them and nothing more.

"They took you from here?" Amelie asked, her voice high and tight with surprise.

"Yes."

"To Rouen?"

"They took me everywhere," I answered. "I have no idea which city was first."

Amelie came to a complete stop and looked me over, her blue eyes wide with alarm. "And you stayed with them for ten months?"

I nodded, unsure of what to tell her. "I did not have a choice, I was..."

I was a terrible child, always running away. I was desperate and alone. I was born a monster and the world had no compassion for me. I was at fault from the moment I first took a breath and had suffered immeasurable pain for scars that I had not earned. I was a victim and a killer. I was a ghost and a shadow. I was deeply ashamed, I was...

"You were not truly released at ten months, were you?" Amelie asked.

I shook my head in silence. She was correct as physically I had freed myself with Madelne's aid, but mentally I had remained enslaved.

"You are resilient," Amelie said with a firm nod.

"Resilient," I said under my breath, barely suppressing a shiver. I had never been labeled as such, and I thought of a hundred reasons why I did not deserved praise for what I had endured. Self depreciation and denial came easily; accepting gentle words did not.

"Do you have a better description?" Amelie took another step forward, her hands linked behind her back.

"I do not."

My words went without a reply and we walked in silence toward a bend in the road before Amelie finally spoke again. "I apologize if I have offended you," she said. "That was not my intention."

"You have no reason to apologize to me." I squeezed my hands into anxious fists and couldn't decide whether to meet her eye or stare at the trees ahead. "My reaction was unnecessary and quite foolish and I profusely apologize for my shameful behavior. Once my uncle passed, you and your family became the last people who knew me before the fair. I suppose it is inconsequential to you, but I did not want you to think differently."

Amelie tilted her head to the side and smiled. "You have my word that I do not think differently." Before I could reply, she narrowed her eyes and pointed at me. "However, I do believe that in lieu of an apology, I would prefer something else from the most talented E.M Kire." She offered a devilish smile.

Her house came into view once we rounded the bend, and instead of dreading the conversation, I dreaded losing her company. "Madame Amelie, you have my rapt attention."

"Good. I wish to be written into your next opera. A brave heroine with magical apples, who will of course be named Amelie the Brave," she said. "Or at least a supporting character with my given name would suffice if you think it would be impossible to write a full opera about apples."

I grunted, appreciating her sense of humor, and offered my hand. "I would be honored. Consider your name appearing in a new production done."

Amelie ignored my extended hand and instead held out her arms. "Give my best to Julia, Lisette and Alex," she said into my chest. My arms folded around her. "We will see you off tomorrow morning."