Since the opera was now officially in performance, the dancers had a slightly lighter class load. Glinda always took advantage of her newfound free time by going shopping in the town. She loved shopping with her Ama, and her companion was great company, as always.
"Shall we stop by the modiste and have you fitted for a new evening dress?" Ama Clutch suggested, handing their bags to the driver.
"A new evening dress? What would I need a new evening dress for? No one ever comes over," Glinda asked, half distracted by a window display.
"In case… you meet someone you would like to invite to dinner."
She glanced over at her. "Are you talking about whoever sent me that rose?"
"Yes. Did you ever find out who he is?"
"No. I haven't a clue. And I haven't received any other clue to lead me to him." She shrugged. "Maybe it was just a one-time gift for opening night."
"But you said you've never received flowers before."
"I know. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it was meant for someone else. There wasn't a note, after all."
Ama Clutch smiled softly. "Well, when he does decide to reveal himself, you should be ready with a new dinner dress."
Glinda thought it over and gave in with a smile. She followed Ama Clutch to the modiste and went through the gowns on display. After much thought, she finally decided on a cream-colored gown made of silk and taffeta, with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and a fitted waistline. Layers of thin black and light blue ribbons lined the V-neckline, decorated with two taffeta bows trimmed with passementerie. The bodice was draped with irregular princess darts that met just off-center front. The large, ballgown skirt over the crinoline underskirt was overlaid with large petal-like drapes, and two dangling tassels, finished with cascading ruffles and a cording trim.
In short, it was a perfect dinner dress, and Glinda was satisfied with her purchase. She just had to wait for the right moment to wear it.
"Attention, everyone! I have a very special announcement!" Morrible said as she flourished onto the stage.
The performers stopped their side conversations and turned to Morrible, who held a small note in her hand.
"Congratulations everyone on a fantastic opening night. Signed, E.," the older woman read, then looked around with an expectant smile.
"That's it?" Letta frowned. "That's the special announcement?"
"And who is 'E'?" one of the corps girls asked.
"It could be the opera's ghost," another piped up with a smirk.
"The opera ghost?" ShenShen gasped.
Glinda rolled her eyes. She'd heard stories about the opera house being haunted by the ghost of a prima donna who sang so high that her voice cracked, and she could never sing again, so she placed a curse on the opera house, and other similar stories.
Depending on who was telling the tales, sometimes there were multiple ghosts, seeing as the opera house was apparently too big for just one ghost to be the sole haunter. Anytime a prop went missing, a light stopped working, or any other presently unexplainable event happened, it was blamed on the "ghosts". When she first arrived, the seasoned company members had scared her with ghost stories. She had nightmares for weeks, and made Ama Clutch stay with her until she was asleep.
Now that she was older, she didn't believe a single word of them. There was always a logical explanation for things. She didn't know exactly how old the opera house was, but could see that it was old enough to at least hold many secrets, if not ghosts.
"It's been a while since the opera ghost made contact," one of the principal dancers, Tibbett, mused, his smirk juxtaposing his curious eyes.
"Ghosts aren't real," Gysp scoffed with an eye roll.
"That's not the opera ghost, it's the opera owner, you oaf!" the other principal dancer, Crope, huffed, smacking Tibbett's arm.
"The owner?" Glinda blinked. In all her time here, she never heard any mention of the owner.
"You didn't think Morrible owned this place, did you?" ShenShen giggled.
"Morrible owns all of us," Milla whispered.
The corps girls quieted down when Greyling tapped her cane.
"Yes, I'm aware it has been a while since the owner has seen fit to send a congratulatory note of encouragement, but this is a good sign. Notice has been taken of the hard work we're doing," Morrible continued.
"We? She's not included in that 'we'," Pfannee hissed.
"Why can we never meet him? Why is his identity a secret?" Letta asked for the not-first time.
"No one sees the opera owner. Not even I," Morrible said. "All of my correspondence has been through notes."
"Then how do we know he exists?" Gysp added.
"Because we still keep getting paychecks," Tibbett said, and Gysp made an unladylike noise at him.
"Miss Ovrigine and Miss Jabal, we've been over this numerous times. Must we review?"
"No, Madame," Gysp sighed, rising to her toes to stretch.
"Good."
"His identity is such a mystery that he might as well be a ghost," Letta murmured, and that was the last of that conversation as they all began to prepare for that evening's performance.
…
After the show, Glinda was surprised by another lavender rose at her station. Still without a note, but this one seemed slightly bigger than the last one.
"Another rose from your mystery admirer?" ShenShen blinked, examining the rose from over the blonde's shoulder. "You still don't know who's sending you roses?"
"I don't. I haven't spoken to anyone to give them a reason to send me roses," Glinda said, a smile creeping onto her face as she buried her nose in the petals.
"Maybe you haven't spoken to him yet?" Pfannee suggested.
"If I haven't spoken to him, why would he send me roses?"
"Perhaps he's shy."
"Even a shy gentleman could leave me with some type of clue to discovering his identity. If he admires me, wouldn't he want me to know who he is?"
ShenShen shrugged as she took off her wig. "Maybe they'll leave a note with your next rose. Perhaps next time, it'll be a whole bouquet."
Glinda hummed and followed her friends as they went to pick up their checks, and she slid hers into her handbag. She didn't need the money, since her parents provided her with everything she needed, but still loved having her own spending money.
As always, Ama Clutch was waiting outside the stage door for her. "You were wonderful, Duckie," she said, kissing her cheek and helping her into the coach.
Glinda was never sure which performances her Ama attended, for surely she wasn't attending all of them. She was sure her parents hadn't included ticket money in her salary. Maybe she just said she was wonderful despite not having seen the performance as a generic compliment. Not that she minded, of course. Compliments were rare, and since Ama Clutch was the only one giving them to her, she would take it. "Thank you, Ama. I'd like to go shopping tomorrow."
"Of course, Glinda. We will do whatever you want."
They always did whatever she wanted. Ama Clutch rarely said 'no' to her, which balanced with her parents predominately saying 'no' to her. Once they returned to the townhouse, Glinda freshened up for dinner. She ate and conversed, then Ama Clutch went to ready her bath while she sat and went through the mail. A few catalogs came and flipped through the items until it was ready.
A refreshing bath always put Glinda to sleep, and her eyes closed once her head hit the pillow, her dreams filled with new dresses and mysterious owners handing her lavender roses.
"What about this one, Glinda?"
Glinda blinked, then turned to face Ama Clutch, who was holding up a fashionable blue bonnet with a large bow. "Oh, um…"
"What's wrong, dearest? You're very distracted. You said you wanted to go shopping, and now…"
"Sorry, I…" She looked around. "I feel as if we're being… watched."
Ama Clutch also looked around, but the only others in the milliner's shop were an older couple, a young woman with her husband, and a little girl with her mother. None of whom were paying attention to Glinda and her companion. "By whom?"
"That's just it. I don't know." She looked out the window. A few passersby looked into the shop, but at the display of hats, not her. There was no one else outside. She turned back to her Ama, who was still holding the blue bonnet. "I like that." She took it and tried it on in the mirror. She smiled at her reflection and took it to the counter.
Satisfied with her purchase, she left the store with Ama Clutch. Her feeling of being watched went away and she was able to enjoy the rest of the outing. She loved taking walks outside. While the Emerald City didn't have the same clean air as the Frottica countryside, it wasn't as polluted as other cities. Fresh air was still widely available, and Glinda took advantage of it.
"Oh, that's beautiful," Glinda smiled, stopping short when she saw a large necklace encrusted with shiny pearls, diamonds, and pink stones in the display window of the jeweler's shop.
"We have time for one more shop," Ama Clutch said, checking her pocket watch.
"Oh, I don't think I'll buy this necklace."
"Why not? You just said it's beautiful."
"It is, but…" Yes, she was rich, but not rich enough to splurge on a necklace just because she thought it was pretty. Besides, she'd have nowhere to wear it. "Perhaps I'll buy it later."
Ama Clutch frowned slightly, but nodded and followed Glinda's lead back to the coach. The driver would first drop Glinda off at the opera house, then bring Ama Clutch home with their purchases. It was still hours until the dancers' call time, and Glinda had said she wanted to warm up in one of the studios, but she really wanted to take a nap on the backstage lounge sofa. It was surprisingly comfy, and all the dancers knew this, so she wanted to be the one to snag it this time.
Thankfully, her plan was successful, and she was able to squeeze in a quick nap. As much as she loved shopping, it took a lot of energy; energy she needed to regain to make it through the performance. Greyling was keeping the corps ballerinas on their toes with adjustments and corrections to make sure the dance stayed fresh, and they didn't get bored and sloppy. Glinda knew that Greyling's toughness was for her own good, but sometimes, it frustrated her with how limited Greyling's praises were, yet how boundless her criticisms were.
When she went down to the stage level, she was surprised by the unexpected chaos between the dancers, Greyling, Morrible, and the show's director.
"What's going on?" Glinda asked.
"Maehri is sick, and there's no one to do the second variation. They're trying to discuss if there's a way around it," Pfannee reported.
The second variation? That's what she was doing when Greyling caught her on the stage. She knew it. But she couldn't speak up and say that. She was just a corps ballerina. Everyone would laugh at her for being so bold. Morrible would sneer. The director would laugh. Greyling would dismiss her. Her parents would force her to move back home to Frottica and marry a stuck-up rich man with no sense of humor or fashion sense. It wasn't worth the spiraling domino effect.
Could she do it? Yes. Did she want to? She didn't know. It was a big responsibility and to perform unrehearsed like that could be disastrous.
Amidst the chaos, Greyling locked gazes with her. She lowered her chin and looked at the blonde over her glasses. Glinda knew what she was asking. 'Do you know the part?'
She nodded slightly.
'Can you dance it tonight?'
A deep breath, then another nod.
Greyling nodded back and banged her cane for attention. "We have a substitute. Miss Glinda Upland will dance the second variation."
"A corps de ballet girl?" the director gasped, as did everyone else as Glinda shyly stepped forward.
"She knows the part," Greyling said, her tone leaving little room for argument.
The director used the little room he had left. "Have you seen her do it? Is she decent?"
"She is decent." The highest of praise coming from Greyling. "Do we have another choice?"
The director made a face. He didn't want to cut the dance, but it was clear he didn't fully trust Glinda. But hopefully, he trusted Greyling. "Very well. Miss Upland may dance."
The stage was chaos again, but Glinda didn't hear any of it. She couldn't believe what she just heard. She would dance the second variation solo. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Greyling. She opened her mouth to thank her, but Greyling held up a hand and pointed to the dressing rooms before starting to restage the corps dance to fill Glinda's empty spot.
Since she was dancing Maehri's part, she got to use Maehri's dressing room. She tried on Maehri's tutu. It was a bit tight, but nothing that would've stopped her from performing. She just told herself that while she wouldn't be able to take a deep breath for the next three hours, it would be completely worth it because she would be dancing the second variation.
Since she was in the second variation costume, she wouldn't be dancing with her friends. She watched them walk past her, all with varying expressions from happy to envious. She tried to push it aside. She had to focus. This was her chance to prove herself.
Right before the curtain rose, there was an announcement over the loudspeaker that "the second variation will be performed by Miss Glinda Upland". There was polite applause, and Glinda wondered if Ama Clutch was in the audience tonight. If she wasn't, she would hate to hear how she missed her big debut.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, it was finally time for her solo. The lights came up and she waited for the orchestra to begin playing the variation. She took as deep a breath as she could and danced.
Inhale. Tondu. Exhale. Point and leap. Plie and jeté. Land gracefully on your feet. Make sure your technique is flawless.
As she danced, she felt the stage and audience slip away, and soon, she was no longer on a stage, but in the field of flowers depicted on the backdrop. She danced up the hills and leaped into the valleys. She was here. This was her moment. The music swelled and she closed her eyes, breathing as she raised and lowered her arms and extended her back leg into her final pose. The music stopped and the lights went out, except for the spotlight on her. She didn't open her eyes until she heard the thunderous applause. She looked out into the darkened auditorium. It was much different than when she rehearsed it. This was exhilarating. This was epic. This was real.
The curtain came down and she hurried off, feeling like she was about to throw up. She hovered over the trash bin, but thankfully, nothing came out to ruin the costume. She stayed right by the bin until it was time for bows.
She received more applause as she bowed, and a few audience members tossed flowers at her feet. For the first time, they were actually meant for her, and she scooped them up. Though she felt queasy a few minutes prior, now she couldn't stop smiling.
As soon as the curtain came down for the final time, she rushed back to Maehri's dressing room, changed, and hurried to the corps dressing room, but found her station empty.
She had expected to come back to her station to a bouquet of lavender roses from her admirer. To say that she was disappointed would've been an understatement. She felt devastated. Her heightened emotions only added to its intensity, and she burst into tears.
"It was last minute, Glinda," Pfannee said, taking her friend's hand and wiping her tears with a handkerchief. "I'm sure you'll get your flowers tomorrow."
Tomorrow came, but the flowers didn't. Glinda was back in the corps group, and her one night in the spotlight became a memory. Three days later, right when Glinda gave up on receiving a gift, a surprise was waiting for her, this time, before the performance.
But it wasn't a single flower, nor a bouquet. It was a medium-sized box, gift-wrapped in gold and green paper. She eagerly tore at the paper like a child on Lurlinemas morning, and gasped when she opened the box. She had completely forgotten about this, and the feeling that she was being watched, but now she had proof.
It was the necklace; the pearl, diamond, and pink stoned necklace that she couldn't afford because she had nowhere to wear it. She hadn't thought about it since she saw it in the display window, but now the entire memory came flooding back. She gingerly took the jewelry out of the box, holding it in her hands like a priceless artifact. There was no way… whoever was watching her had to have been close enough to… but there was no one there.
No one that she had seen.
But to her astonishment, the surprise didn't end with the necklace. This time, the gift came with a note. Probably because it was so expensive that the secret admirer finally had to take credit.
'You danced the second variation beautifully. Signed…'
Glinda gulped and inhaled at the same time, and nearly choked. At the bottom of the note was a single, bolded letter signed in elegant calligraphy.
'E.'
