Page 34 of Play of Shadows
‘But first,’ I announced, stopping my fellow actors in their tracks, ‘her minders offer one last warning.’
Teo looked utterly baffled, but Beretto, a born improviser, picked up the thread. ‘We but do our prince’s duty, my Lady,’ he said, reaching a hand to touch her arm with indecent familiarity. ‘As e’en the brightest star dims before celestial powers.’
Close, so close!I thought, amazed by how near Beretto’s extemporaneous line had come to the words echoing from the past. But Pierzi’s man had said the last part differently: ‘For even the loveliest pertine bows before the Court of Flowers.’
What was the Court of Flowers? A poetic metaphor to warn Ajelaine that she couldn’t hide behind her beauty, or some other archaic nonsense? And why had she been so determined to keep that notebook from them?
The glint of a small, round device on Beretto’s collar distracted me, but when I peered across the stage, he was wearing the same armour he’d had on since the start of the play.
That emblem wasn’t on Beretto’s collar, I realised, struggling to separate the superimposed images of the man I knew so well from that of the stranger on stage with him.It was on the lieutenant’s. Saints help me, I can’t keep track of what I’m seeing or hearing any more!
I tried to focus my vision deeper into Ajelaine’s world, but Roslyn pulled me back when she abruptly shrugged away Beretto’s hand. This time, when she spoke, she did so with the exact same words Ajelaine had uttered: ‘I know my duty, sir, as Iknow my own heart.’
The two courtiers turned and walked away, whatever was on their collars now hidden from view. Beretto and Teo trailed after them like shadows.
Roslyn turned to face me, our scene together coming at last. Tears were falling down Ajelaine’s cheeks as both women waited for me. I could feel the audience’s eyes watching me, but something deeper stirred inside my chest: a restless desire, refusing to be contained. My mind, no longer able to hold two worlds within its grasp, let go of the plodding, day-to-day existence of Damelas Chademantaigne and reached out for the glorious dreams of a man far more passionate. I took my first, precarious step out of the shadows towards Roslyn.
The stage disappeared completely, the audience banished. There was only Ajelaine now, standing there, shining like the sole light of the universe as she awaited Corbier.
A second step, more insistent this time, with words to match. ‘You claim to know your heart, my Lady. Then surely you know mine, for ours was ever one.’
A sob broke through Ajelaine’s lips as she rushed towards him.
He experienced soaring happiness, and the absolute certainty that all-consuming love was within his reach.
A third step—
—but this one never touched the soft, grassy ground. . .
I tripped on the hard, unforgiving wooden surface of the boards. A grunted command backstage was quickly followed by the screech of pulleys shutting the lantern covers above.
The stars winked out. Darkness enveloped two worlds.
I fell.
And fell, and fell, and fell.
Chapter 17
The Applause
‘Up, man! Up!’ Beretto commanded.
Strong hands gripped me under the armpits and I found myself yanked to my feet, no longer sure where, when or who I was. A roaring filled my ears.
‘Are we under attack? Are those siege-engines?’ I asked, my throat raw as if I’d been shouting for hours without end.
‘Siege-engines?’ a more familiar voice asked.
Ajelaine?No, it had to be Roslyn.
Only, it was neither. Lady Shariza had taken my other arm. She and Beretto were holding me up. A dark red fog filled the field in front of me, thick as. . .
No, not fog, I realised.That’s the stage curtain.
Beyond that scarlet barrier, angry shouts and the stamping of feet were shaking the theatre.
‘Are you sure we’re not under siege?’ I asked.
