Chapter 89

Miliciano Mancini was the owner of the Estwick Theater, and his not-so-secret hobby was bubble baths.

You might wonder how taking a bath could possibly be not secretive…. well, the answer lay in the group of women in swimwear lounging beside him.

“You girls know who I am, right? I own the biggest theater in Lambart….Estwick! That means I get to decide who stars in the next production with just one word. Heh, who wants to cozy up to the guy sitting on a mountain of cash?”

As a few of them giggled and clung to him playfully, Miliciano smiled in satisfaction.

The women were young actresses from the Estwick Theater. Newcomers who had yet to land a role.

Inside the theater, Miliciano was king. And this was how he often roped actresses into his personal amusements.

But Miliciano didn’t think he was doing anything wrong. In fact, he believed the actresses should be grateful to him.

After all, he considered this a part of the “new talent audition” process.

Whoever pleased him could get a role. No resume or connections needed. Totally fair!

“I swear, I’m too kind for my own good. Don’t you think? Puhahaha!”

With a loud laugh, Miliciano emptied the champagne glass in his left hand in one gulp, then noisily chewed on a grape placed in his mouth by the beauty on his right.

As he did, he cast a displeased glance toward someone standing at a distance.

In the bath filled with soap bubbles, rose petals, and beautiful women, one actress stood out. She was awkward and visibly uncomfortable with the atmosphere.

Grace, was it? She’s the most usable face among the new recruits. But with a timid personality like that… Tsk.

Miliciano’s gaze swept over Grace from head to toe.

With years of experience as a showman, his instincts told him…she definitely had the kind of looks that worked on stage.

With a bit more attention to makeup and some acting skill, she could probably enjoy at least a brief burst of popularity.

It’d be a waste to let that talent rot.

And since this was a “new talent audition” after all, every participant deserved a fair chance. This meant a chance to impress him.

With that in mind, Miliciano was just about to call Grace over to sit beside him.

But then, the bathhouse door suddenly burst open.

“Sir Theater Owner! Sir Miliciano!”

A young man with disheveled hair shoved the door open and called out to him.

He was one of Miliciano’s errand boys.

“Come out quickly! You have to see this!”

“Gwyn! How many times have I told you not to interrupt when I’m in the middle of an audition?”

“An audition? What audition? This isn’t the time to be giggling around with girls in a bath!”

“What did you just say?”

“You said it yourself! That if he ever showed up, we should kick you awake even if you were fast asleep!”

“He?”

The young man called Gwyn gulped and answered,

“Baron Winslet. Our theater’s top patron!”

At those words, Miliciano shot up to his feet.

As his plump belly emerged from the bubbles, the actresses hastily turned their heads away.

But Miliciano didn’t care. Pulling his robe tight around him, he barked at Gwyn,

“Damn it, I can’t show up looking like this. Gwyn! Get my clothes. Right now!”

Gwyn was already sprinting off.

Miliciano started to follow him, then spun around and shouted at the actresses,

“What are you all standing around for? Get back to the dressing room! The audition’s over!”

But then, shaking his head, he muttered,

“No, wait. The real audition starts now. You know who’s outside, don’t you? If you catch his eye, I swear I’ll make you a headliner. So go fix your makeup and change into something extravagant. The most expensive, glamorous outfit you’ve got!”

***

The Estwick Theater, where I had once come with Josephine, was in fact one of Winter Winslet’s money laundering routes.

He would funnel illegally obtained funds into the theater in the form of “donations,” and the theater, after taking a cut, would return the rest as dividends or various forms of vested interests.

Being the theater’s top patron simply meant he had a lot of money to launder.

In any case—

Estwick had long provided Winter Winslet with various conveniences and luxuries beyond just laundering money, and today, I was here to make use of one of them.

“Oh my, if it isn’t Baron Winslet! What an honor! What brings you here without any notice?”

“Do I need permission to visit?”

“Of course not! Absolutely not. I only meant…I just didn’t have enough time to prepare a proper welcome… I was right in the middle of holding auditions for new actresses, haha. Apologies for making you wait.”

The theater owner Miliciano reeked faintly of alcohol as he clumsily strung together words he didn’t mean.

But flattery was an inseparable part of Winter Winslet’s life.

I was getting used to it by now.

Miliciano asked,

“So what brings you here today? If it’s about donations or business, shall I prepare the parlor?”

“No. I just had a bit of time, so I dropped by. Thought I’d enjoy a play and relax a little.”

“Ah, I see! Of course, your private seat is always maintained in perfect condition. I’ll have it prepared at once. By the way… are you here alone today?”

Miliciano glanced behind me, confirming that no one was following, and let out a sly laugh.

“Hehehe, lately you’ve never come alone. I assumed you were completely smitten with your fiancée, but perhaps not entirely, hmm?”

“Don’t say pointless things.”

“Why don’t you take a look at the actresses while you’re here? I’ve gathered all the new recruits in one place, hehehe. I’ll show you to the dressing room.”

In this era, theaters were more often used by nobles as places for secret rendezvous than for actual cultural pursuits….and Winter Winslet was a frequent patron of such scenes.

That’s why, when I first possessed this body, I almost got slapped and stabbed by my fiancée.

Not that I have any desire to get stabbed again… but there was a reason I’d come here alone.

According to the prisoner I interrogated from the Thieves’ Guild, today was the day members of Longsoniere’s organization were set to exchange Caraphine. It was right here at the Estwick Theater.

The plan was likely to swap a bag containing the drug in the darkened seats during the performance.

My goal was to intercept the exchange and seize the Caraphine.

But one problem stood in my way. Estwick Theater was a strictly members-only establishment.

Stealing Caraphine would greatly provoke Sakis Lubas, one of the Seven Points, and to avoid retaliation, I couldn’t appear as Winter Winslet. I had to show up as my alter persona, Nice Goodman.

But as Nice Goodman, I wouldn’t even be allowed past the door let alone get a ticket to a members-only show.

So for now, I had no choice but to enter using Winter Winslet’s name.

At the same time, I needed to create a solid alibi.

If anyone later looked into why I was at the theater today, the combination of Winter Winslet’s well-known womanizing reputation and the theater’s suggestive reputation would lead them to a conclusion of their own and nod in smug understanding.

“Right this way, then.”

Miliciano opened the door to the dressing room, where the actresses were waiting.

As I stepped inside, the women were chatting casually among themselves.

Then, just as I made eye contact with the nearest actress—

“Oh…”

The actress’s exclamation was all it took. Twelve pairs of eyes instantly locked onto me.

The dressing room fell silent, like a mouse had scurried through.

In the stillness, I had the strange sensation that the room’s temperature had risen by about two degrees Celsius.

Miliciano broke the silence with a loud clap of his hands.

“All right, all right, on your feet and show some respect! I told you to be ready, didn’t I? Allow me to introduce the Baron Winslet, a man who’s been a great help to our theater.”

At Miliciano’s words, the room filled with chatter again.

I caught snippets like “Baron” and “noble” floating through the air.

As the actresses stole glances at me, I could read curiosity and desire in their eyes.

After all, the fastest way for an unknown actress to rise in the world was to find a patron.

“The Baron is curious to know how cultured our actresses are. So, who wants to keep him company for a bit of conversation?”

What followed was a flurry of raised hands so enthusiastic it made me feel slightly embarrassed.

“Me! Me! I’m told I’m fun to talk to!”

“A woman who just chatters on and on isn’t interesting, you know. I’m a great listener. If the Baron has stories to share, I’d be delighted to hear them.”

“As if you’re in any position to talk, looking like that.”

“What was that? Did you just say that to me?”

“How about me, Baron? Among us, I have the best hair by far.”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself. If anyone here has the most beautiful hair, it’s the Baron himself. Compared to his, yours looks like a mop.”

“Oh yeah? And what exactly do you think you have going for you?”

Unable to watch the bickering any longer, Miliciano snapped.

“Enough! That’s enough! What kind of disgraceful behavior is this in front of the Baron?”

It was only after Miliciano calmed them down that the actresses seemed to remember. I was the one with the power to choose. And with that realization, they regained their composure.

Miliciano asked,

“Is there anyone here who catches your eye, sir? Of course, it doesn’t have to be just one. Hehehe.”

“Well…”

Truthfully, it didn’t matter much who I picked.

I had come to the actresses’ dressing room only to establish an alibi. That Winter Winslet had visited the theater to spend time with a woman.

Still, if I wanted to ensure that word of my actions as Nice Goodman didn’t leak outside, I needed someone obedient….someone likely to do as I said.

I scanned the faces of the actresses one by one.

Now, instead of speaking, they were trying to win me over with their eyes.

Their gazes were as intense as the scent of perfume hanging in the room, each filled with different thoughts and desires.

The ambition to rise through the ranks by securing a wealthy patron.

The scheming intent to squeeze money out of a rich man.

Or maybe just pure curiosity toward an attractive stranger.

In that moment, I felt like I’d become the one on display.

And that’s when I noticed the only actress who was avoiding my gaze.

Probably the shy type.

I felt a little bad thinking it, but she had the look of someone who would easily bend to power and authority.

And sometimes, intimidation was the best way to ensure a secret stayed hidden.

I walked straight over to her and tilted her chin up so I could see her face clearly.

Our eyes met.

“Your name?”

“I-it’s Grace.”

“I choose you.”

“Ah!”

Her soft gasp was her only reply.