"So… what kind of sickness do you have, my lady?"
Mitsura asked during their tea time together.
Gwen had invited Mitsura over for tea, and though she was still a bit reluctant, Mitsura accepted. Mainly because the task assigned to her had been surprisingly easy—so easy, in fact, that she hadn't even needed to lift a finger.
"My, what a blunt mouth you have," Gwen replied, setting down her teacup.
"Hahaha, I get told that a lot," Mitsura chuckled lightly, sipping her own tea.
"Hm. I'll tell you—if you agree to one request."
"A request?" Mitsura raised a brow. "I wonder what I can offer her ladyship."
"You see," Gwen began, "I've been trying to find a model lately."
"A model?"
Gwen placed her cup down again. "Yes."
"Do you paint, my lady?"
"I do."
"Hmm… well, I could be. That's no problem."
Gwen smirked playfully, her lazy gaze trailing along Mitsura's figure.
"Cut!"
The director's voice echoed through the theater.
"Ten-minute break!"
They were now halfway through the rehearsal—this part mostly consisted of scenes between Mitsura and Gwen, or rather, Yeira and Raiquèn.
Raiquèn leaned back casually and glanced to the side.
We're now practicing on the actual stage where the play will be performed… she thought, gazing at the vast rows of empty seats inside La Scala Theater.
Yeira stood up in front of her and walked straight toward the director to discuss something.
Yeira is still as beautiful as ever… Rai thought, her eyes following her co-star.
"Good work, Rai-san!" Himeko said, tapping her shoulder.
"You too, Hime," Rai replied with a warm smile.
"By the way, what are you going to do about that part?" Himeko asked, looking at her script curiously.
Rai lifted her cup and took a sip. "Which part?"
"The part where Gwen and Mitsura will kiss. In Act X."
Himeko said it so casually that Rai choked on her tea.
"Rai-san, that's disgusting," Himeko said between muffled laughter.
Rai coughed and clutched her chest. "A what!?" she exclaimed, eyes wide.
"Oh? Did you completely forget about it?" Himeko teased.
Rai snatched Himeko's script and read through it. Her face paled in horror—it was really written there. She had completely forgotten.
She slumped forward onto the table, burying her face in both palms.
"A kiss…" she muttered under her breath.
"With… Yeira…" she whispered again.
"Oh, Yeira-san!" Himeko greeted cheerfully beside her, though Rai didn't seem to hear.
"A… k-kiss…" Rai mumbled once more, her face still hidden.
"What's up with her?" Yeira asked, glancing over.
"Oh, don't mind Rai-san," Himeko replied quickly, trying her best not to laugh. "She's just… memorizing. Probably."
"I see…" Yeira said, flicking her gaze from Rai to the script on the table.
....
"Okay, let's continue!" the director said.
"Since this part mainly focuses on the characters Gwen and Mitsura, we'll proceed with Act IX up to Act X."
'Ah... I'm screwed...' Rai thought to herself as she stood up from her corner and walked toward the center of the stage.
'Though... a kiss from Yeira... I wouldn't mind...'
Rai pouted her lips slightly as she walked, lost in her own thoughts.
'All I have to do is receive it, right?'
She asked herself, knowing well she had zero experience with romance or anything close to it—though it's not like she had any romantic connection toward Yeira.
'It's just an act...' Rai sighed to herself.
When Raiquèn settled on the bed where she was supposed to sit, she saw in front of her a turned canvas with a stool and some paints on the side.
That was where Yeira sat.
"We'll start in 3, 2, 1... Action!"
Rai exhaled deeply, then opened her eyes again.
"So? For how long do I have to sit my ass here, my lady?" Mitsura asked sarcastically.
Gwen looked at her, her lips parting slightly.
"Seems like someone's a bit impatient."
"It'll take at least a week," Gwen added.
Mitsura rolled her eyes at the answer and continued posing, sitting neatly on the bed.
"Will you answer my question while you draw me?" Mitsura asked.
"Go on," Gwen replied, picking up the pencil to sketch.
"So, what is your sickness?"
"You seem very eager to know," Gwen sighed softly.
"It's a chronic disease that I inherited from my late mother."
Mitsura's lips parted slightly at the answer.
"Oh... a chronic one, huh..." she muttered under her breath.
"Then, my lady, do you hate your new stepmother?" Mitsura asked bluntly and straightforwardly.
That question made Gwen halt her hand mid-sketch.
"Not really," Gwen answered before continuing to draw, flicking her gaze between Mitsura's figure and the canvas.
Then silence stretched slightly between them.
"What about this house? Do you hate it?" Mitsura asked casually, as if unaware of the weight her words carried.
Gwen's eyes faltered for a moment before she smiled faintly.
"Why should I hate the very house I grew up in?"
Mitsura's eyes, however—unknowingly—brightened at Gwen's serene expression.
She pressed her lips together before speaking. She couldn't stand it—the Duke's wealth, born from the townsfolk's sweat and blood. Money, exploitation, corruption.
So how? How could this woman, the Duke's daughter, sit there smiling as if she knew nothing of it?
Her resentment toward the lady before her only deepened.
Mitsura asked because she wanted to know—if perhaps the daughter of the Duke's house was any different from the Duke himself.
"You do know that the money that keeps this house standing comes from corruption, right?" Mitsura's tone was sharp, laced with provocation.
Gwen set the pencil down and turned her gaze toward her.
"What is it that you wish to say?"
Mitsura scoffed, her voice laced with venom.
"That it's amusing to see how comfortably her ladyship lives, despite knowing that every coin she spends was taken from the very people her father exploited."
Mitsura's eyes were sharp; the usual warmth in her expression was gone. The fire she carried was real—perhaps too real.
Gwen, on the other hand, remained composed. Instead of anger, a faintly mocking smile curved her lips.
"I see. Are you offended on behalf of the townsfolk because of how we use their money?"
Mitsura's fists clenched tightly at her sides.
"If that's how you interpret it, then perhaps so," she answered vaguely.
Gwen rose from her chair. Mitsura didn't move.
"If you're truly that upset," Gwen said, walking toward her slowly, her voice cool and steady,
"then do something about it. Tell my father directly. Tell the Duke himself, not his sick daughter."
"Hah. As if it's that easy," Mitsura shot back, glaring up at her.
"See? Even you lack the courage to do so." Gwen stopped in front of her, looking down with quiet disdain.
The words ignited something in Mitsura. Her blood boiled.
"And what about you? Of course it's nothing to you—you don't care about your own people!"
Gwen's brow twitched ever so slightly at the accusation.
"Damn… they're so into it," Himeko whispered under her breath.
"You're right… It's only a rehearsal, but it feels like we're watching the real thing," Sheena whispered back.
Their eyes stayed fixed on the stage.
There stood Yeira and Raiquèn—but no, at that moment, they weren't themselves.
They were Gwen and Mitsura—
locked in the world of My Beloved Muse.
"It's giving me chills," Himeko murmured, hugging herself. "They're that good."
"You seem to be speaking quite carefree now, aren't you?" Gwen said.
Mitsura jolted slightly before quickly regaining her composure.
"Hahaha, you're right, my lady. I apologize for the way I spoke," she laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension between them.
"Is that so?" Gwen leaned forward.
Mitsura was startled by the sudden movement—their faces only a few breaths apart.
'Oh shit!' Mitsura—no, Rai—screamed inside her head.
'I can't crack now. Not right now!'
"Yes, my lady. But what are you doing?" Mitsura asked, neither moving nor backing down.
"You see, a certain relative of my stepmother just unknowingly got on my nerves." Gwen placed her knees on the bed, right between Mitsura's legs.
Mitsura swallowed hard, trying to hide her nervousness.
"Really? I already apologized for what I said, my lady. I hope you'll give me another chance," Mitsura said with a carefree smile, just as written in the script.
Though Raiquèn deep inside was screaming and bawling—she just wanted this part to be over already.
"I shall forgive you with this, then," Gwen said softly.
Her hand lifted to tuck her hair behind her ear, while the other sneaked to Mitsura's chin, gently holding it.
"With what, my lady?" Mitsura arched a brow.
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Uh… what now… Raiquèn thought nervously, her lips pursing slightly on instinct.
Gwen—no, Yeira—caught the movement, and the corner of her lips curved upward.
"With a kiss," she said.
Mitsura blinked. "A kiss?"
"Hah… my lady, please stop joking arou—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Yeira leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.
"Oh my…" Himeko covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile.
The talents and some of the staff's eyes went wide.
"Did they… really?" Sheena asked, eyes still glued to the scene unfolding before them.
To everyone watching, it probably looked like they had kissed. But in truth, Yeira's lips only brushed the corner of Rai's mouth—careful not to actually claim the young actress's lips during rehearsal.
Rai's golden eyes widened.
"Okay, cut!"
Only when the director's voice echoed did Yeira pull away, straightening herself. She immediately turned her back on Rai.
Rai looked down, her expression unreadable, before quietly standing up.
Then Rai stood up, fixing the trousers of her character.
She blinked several times, trying to act normal as the staff began heading onto the stage to adjust the set.
Without saying anything, she walked backstage and slipped into a quiet corner.
There, she slumped against the wall—her forehead resting against it.
Her hands quickly rose to cover her face.
"What was that…" she mumbled under her breath.
Peeking through her fingers, her hands slowly slid down, revealing her flustered face.
Her lips were still trembling slightly.
'Hah… it's bad for my heart. Yeira is really bad for my heart…' she thought.
Then she straightened up and turned around, leaning her back against the wall this time.
"But why do I feel…"
Rai's thoughts flickered back to the rehearsal earlier.
Her soft fingers brushed the corner of her lips—right where Yeira's had grazed.
'Soft… so soft… and she smelled sweet,' she thought, her face heating up.
She pressed a hand against her chest, her heart pounding so fast it almost hurt.
'I'm going crazy…'
Then, barely above a whisper, she muttered,
"Yes… crazy, because why would I feel… decepcionado?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line as confusion and something warmer tangled in her chest.