The next morning came, and rehearsal resumed.
For now, they would start again from Act I.
"Rai~"
"Oh, Sheena! Good morning!" Rai greeted brightly.
"Good morning to you too!" Sheena returned the warmth.
The director entered briskly. "Okay, we'll start in five minutes."
Rai set her bag on a chair, scanning the room as the others prepared.
"Himeko, until what Act are we covering today?" Rai asked.
"I think… until Act VIII?" Himeko tilted her head.
"Okay."
Settling down, Rai pulled out her script. Her eyes darted over the pages, lips pressed in thought.
'Until Act VIII, huh… Act IV is when Mitsura finally meets Gwen.'
She flipped to the page, scanning the exchange again.
Not much in the beginning—just conversation, testing the waters. But later… further in the script… Her gaze lingered on the lines, her chest tightening.
There will be physical interaction between them.
Exhaling slowly, she rubbed her thumb along the paper's edge.
'A physical interaction… with Yeira… huh?'
The rehearsal began.
Azul and Sheena's performances had improved considerably, their tones sharper, their gestures smoother. Their practice with Rai's advice showed clear results.
'They're doing much better than before.'
Rai flicked her gaze to the director, who sat quietly, arms crossed.
'Seems she noticed too. She hasn't interrupted nearly as often.'
Soon, Act III came—Himeko's turn with Yeira.
As Avi, the maid, Himeko spoke with careful precision, guiding Gwen toward befriending Mitsura as Reyna instructed. Her tone was steady, her movements deliberate. Not a single misstep.
Amazing… Rai thought, both impressed and inspired.
Then, Act IV. The first true meeting between Mitsura and Gwen.
According to the script, Lady Gwen wandered into the bustling town, losing her way. Of course, it was no accident. Mitsura had orchestrated the chaos herself, weaving mischief into the crowd to create this opportunity.
"Ah? There seems to be something going on there. Please excuse me for a moment, my Lady."
The actor playing Lance, Gwen's personal knight, stepped aside. Though his earlier demeanor had been relaxed and casual, his delivery was sharp enough to hold. He exited, leaving Yeira at the center.
Now, Gwen was alone.
And Mitsura's entrance loomed.
Rai tightened her grip on her script, heart thudding.
'It's my cue soon…'
"Continue," the director said.
Rai carefully stepped to the center, her script trembling slightly in her hands. Her eyes never dared to meet Yeira's, not yet.
'She has the first line… I just need to wait.'
"Ah… it seems I've lost my way in this town," Yeira spoke softly, her voice flowing like silk across the room.
'That's my cue.'
Raiquèn leaned forward slightly, her tone light and sweet as her words brushed the air like a whisper.
"My lady, you seem a bit lost. Do you perhaps need any help?"
Yeira turned, and the world seemed to pause.
Her gaze lifted—twin flames of amethyst and silver, gleaming like secrets stolen from the stars. Lashes long, shadows delicate, brows arched with quiet grace.
Then her lips parted, soft and pink, as if a single word from her could unravel everything.
Her heart nearly leapt from her chest.
Each beat thundered in her ears, wild and desperate, as if to remind Rai she was still alive.
And there it was—the faint trace of her cologne, sweet yet subtle, wrapping around Rai like a whisper she wanted to chase.
Yeira blinked once before speaking.
"Who are you?"
Their eyes locked—too long, too deep.
Rai, get a grip! Don't embarrass yourself in front of your idol! she screamed in her head.
Straightening, she clasped her hands neatly behind her back, adopting Mitsura's practiced poise.
"Me? I am Mitsura. And you, my lady—what house do you belong to?"
For a heartbeat, Yeira didn't reply.
'Eh? Why isn't she saying anything?'
"I…" Yeira's voice softened into a murmur. "I am from the Duke's house. Gwen."
Her lips curved in a gentle smile—so warm that Rai nearly broke character.
"I see! The sickly lady of the Duke's house!" Rai teased with playful sharpness, just as the script demanded.
'Oh god, oh god…'
"And I see that my stepmother's niece has inherited her sharp tongue," Gwen countered with a concealed smile.
Rai jolted dramatically.
"Wha—what!? You know of me!?"
Gwen's..no...Yeira's eyes glimmered as she stepped closer, the script momentarily blurring between rehearsal and something else.
"Of course, I do," she whispered.
Rai froze.
'Wait… what is she doing? Why is she walking towards me?This isn't in the script!'
She instinctively stepped back, trying to put distance between them.
Her eyes narrowed as she steadied her tone. "What else do you know?"
"Hm? Only that you're my stepmother's niece," Yeira said, still advancing, closing the gap between them with every word.
Rai's back hit the edge of the stage. She swallowed hard, her voice faltering.
"H-how long have you known of me..?" Rai's voice trembled, fragile as glass.
Yeira leaned in, her every movement deliberate, as though she were weaving fate itself.
Her slender fingers, pale and elegant, reached into the veil of air between them—then caught a crimson strand of Rai's hair.
She twirled it idly, as if it were a silken thread she had plucked to bind Rai to her. Her expression remained an enigma, a mask carved by serenity, yet dangerous in its quiet allure.
Rai's soul jolted, screaming—
'THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT IN THE SCRIPT!'
Yet her body was frozen, ensnared in Yeira's orbit, incapable of retreat.
"As far as Icould remember," she murmured, her voice low, a breath that brushed against her very skin. The words were vague, ambiguous, yet they slipped perfectly into the role she wore like second skin.
'Isn't this a bit too much!!!! too much for my heart!!!'
And then—time itself unraveled.
The room dissolved, the stage and its players faded to dust, until only she remained, luminous and whole.
Her eyes—one amethyst, one silver—glimmered like twin relics of heaven, binding Rai in silence, a meaning unspoken yet inescapable.
Her breath, warm and feather-light, brushed over Rai's lips, her cheeks, seeped into the frantic cadence of her heart.
For a single, suspended heartbeat, eternity stretched gossamer-thin, and Rai was lost within those mismatched eyes—undone, unmade, and remade by Yeira's presence alone.
"Cut!" the director's voice shattered the moment.
"Ten-minutes break, then we'll continue with Act V!"
Only then did Yeira release the strand of hair, stepping back with quiet grace. Her face was once again unreadable, but as she turned, Rai caught it—just for a second.
A smile. Small sly smile.
'Huh? Did Yeira just smile?' Rai blinked, stunned.
'No… no. I must be imagining things. This is just rehearsal. Just rehearsal.'
She gripped her script tightly, trying to steady herself.
"Raiiiiii!" Himeko bounded over, nearly tackling her in excitement.
"That was soooo good!" she squealed, eyes sparkling.
"You and Yeira-san have such natural chemistry—it's amazing!"
Rai blinked at her, stunned.
'Is… is that really how it looked to everyone else?'
"Hahaha… th-thank you," Rai replied awkwardly, as Himeko continued her cheerful rambling, replaying every detail with bright enthusiasm.
Rai excused herself and slipped into the bathroom.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, she rushed to the sink and turned on the faucet. Cool water rushed over her trembling hands, but it did little to calm the storm in her chest.
She lifted her gaze to the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed, her lips parted as if she had forgotten how to breathe.
Yeira's touch—light, deliberate, unforgettable—lingered like a phantom upon her hair.
'She smelled… so sweet… '
Rai thought, dazed, as though the faint trace of Yeira's cologne still clung to her skin.
She twisted the faucet off, but the echo of water could not drown the pounding of her heart.
'Oh gosh… Yeira is not good for my heart…'
She snatched a tissue and dabbed her damp hands, though what she really wanted was to wipe away the memory seared into her being. Yet, even as she tried, her reflection betrayed her—eyes wide, cheeks blooming pink, lips curling unconsciously into the tiniest, most foolish smile.
'But why would she ad-lib like that without telling me first?'
Rai's brows furrowed faintly as she pressed the tissue to her hands, watching them tremble against the pale paper.
'Did she… did she just want to see how I'd react?'
Her heart gave another reckless thump at the thought. The memory of Yeira's eyes, her voice—so close, so certain—flooded her once more.
Rai bit her lip, clutching the damp tissue a little too tightly.
'If that's the case… then I should steel myself. I should be ready—mentally, emotionally—for whatever she decides to throw at me next.'
She drew a shaky breath, glancing at her reflection again. Her flushed cheeks betrayed her no matter how sternly she tried to compose herself.
"…Easier said than done," she whispered to the mirror, before discarding the crumpled tissue into the bin.