The Heroines Are After My Fortune

21 – The Bird Breaks from the Egg – 1 (Revised)

The theatre preparations were progressing with ease.

Despite being the first work of an unknown playwright, it attracted considerable attention from theatre enthusiasts.

“This play called ‘Salome’ they’re putting on, the cast lineup is something else, isn’t it?”

“Unbelievable. The director, stage, lighting, and sound managers are all top of the industry…!?”

It boasted an extravagant cast that anyone would call deluxe.

Of course, there was a perfectly understandable reason why they were able to assemble such a team.

‘Who wouldn’t come if they’re getting paid double the industry standard?’

A powerful appearance fee that defied common sense!

He scattered the script, promising to treat not only the actors but also the staff with the best conditions. Whether in the modern era or here, theatre actors were always plagued by poverty. There was no way they could let this rare opportunity slip away; his plan worked, and the leading lights of the theatre world flocked to him.

“Alright, alright. Good work with today’s practice.”

““Thank you for your hard work…!!””

I, the sponsor and producer of this play, encouraged the actors who had finished practice. If it weren’t for the brutal schedule, I would have taken over directing the play myself, but I was relieved the director we chose was giving professional guidance.

“Rene, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m okay….”

Rene, exhausted, her once glossy hair now dry and her dark circles pronounced.

Even though I was wading through a pretty rough patch myself, René was having it no easier.

‘Usually, it’s project planning, then PR outside, and even practice acting behind it all…’

We were working together under the pretense of her producing the play, so she shouldered a good part of the project planning duties. But beyond that, she had another job – PR.

‘I’m producing a play this time, everyone will come see it, right?’

‘Oh my, really…? If it’s René’s production, of course we have to go!’

Introducing our play to attendees at large venues or banquets was at the heart of her PR work. If we wanted to cause a stir with this play, we needed the opinions of nobles and influential figures. René, with her grip on high society, was sure to contribute a great deal.

However, all of these things, piling up on top of each other, were undeniably wearing her down.

“Are you very tired?”

“No, I’m… fine…”

She looked anything but fine, but she couldn’t allow herself to falter.

“Let’s just push through a little more.”

“Yes……….”

From now, for about an hour and a half – this short window was the only time of the day I had to guide René’s acting. At first, René looked at me with suspicion as if wondering if I even had the skills to be a coach, but after I led several full rehearsals and showed considerable insight, she’s followed my guidance without complaint. I entered the meeting room, where we could be alone without escort, and picked up the script for this play.

“Alright, let’s start. Act from ‘Snow piled on the mountain~’ up to ‘The sound of death’s wings~’.”

“Huu, I’ll try.”

She took a deep breath, and soon started to act.

“The snow that piles on the mountain then flows into the valley, nor the roses in the queen’s garden, are as white as your skin, John. The dawn that treads the grass—.”

“René.”

“Yes? Is there a problem with it….”

I cut her off mid-way, seeing there was no need to see more.

Startled, she had no choice but to hear again what I’d been drilling into her ears.

“How did I tell you to use your body on stage?”

“…You told me to use it much bigger than what feels okay to me.”

“Didn’t I say it countless times? When you deliver your lines and move, make them bigger, stretch them out. If you move so stingily, they can’t even see how you’re moving from the back of the audience…!”

“Yes, I’ll try again.”

And so, Renée’s acting began again.

I didn’t leave her alone for a moment.

“For your vocalization, think of creating a resonating chamber within your body and drawing out the sound. You need to fill a 300-person venue, and this isn’t even filling half of it. Again!”

“Are you planning to hide that pretty face from the audience? I told you to engage with your scene partner while keeping your body facing the audience, didn’t I?”

“Are you planning to do a one-person show? You can’t convey any energy to the other actors the way you’re doing it now!”

A ceaseless barrage of nagging continued throughout practice.

Despite the constant advice, she still seemed to be completely lost. Her emotional expression was excellent, but everything else was a problem. Knowing she was doing her best made it all the more frustrating.

‘If only she could just practice normally, she would grasp it much faster.’

She had to avoid the Marquis’s eyes, so she couldn’t even practice with the other actors.

It was a situation where we had to carve the ‘Renée Este’ puzzle to fit this performance, then insert it on the day. The burden placed on her, having to rehearse a performance together in such an absurd way, must have been immense.

“…Haa, haa. I’ll go to the restroom for a bit.”

A part finished, Renée, who was slumped on the floor, catching her breath, soon lowered her head and entered the restroom attached to the meeting room. I waited, thinking nothing of it, but a strange unease crept in.

‘Something’s not right?’

The sound of running water from the sink had been going on for ten minutes. Even if she was washing her face, it shouldn’t be taking this long.

Pressing my ear to the restroom door, I could hear it.

“…………*hic*.”

‘Huh, shit…?’

“…*hic*, *uh-huh*.”

It was Rhene, weeping silently.

Stubborn as she was, she clearly didn’t want to show me her crying face twice, yet my conscience pricked. I’d grilled her almost twice as hard as yesterday, after all.

‘I was too complacent.’

Rhene, who’d always gotten what she wanted and lived a life of smooth sailing, was coming to this place only to repeatedly shatter and break despite her efforts. Because of the venom she’d shown in the original work, I’d thought, ‘She can handle this much.’ But she was just a young lady, barely an adult herself.

If I kept pushing her like this, she might completely collapse.

A fundamental solution was needed.

‘What she needs right now, is one small experience of success.’

I realized.

What I needed to do for her right now.

“Did it take long…? Let’s start again, practicing.”

Rhene came out, her eyelids red.

I shook my head.

“Rhene-ssi, let’s end practice for today. And there’s no practice tomorrow either.”

“Not tomorrow either? But we’re short on time.”

“Instead, let’s go on a date tomorrow.”

“Y-Yes, y-yes—!?”

The next day, Renée followed me, clambering down the curtain I’d tied outside the window, escaping the building.

“This is… a date?”

“Isn’t it thrilling and good?”

It was only the second floor, and with a drainpipe serving as a foothold, the escape was easy. For a disguise of sorts, we were both dressed in the most commoner-like clothes, and our faces were adorned with bizarre glasses and other oddities, making us look utterly ridiculous.

“I’ll never look in a mirror again…”

“That’s probably for the best for your mental health.”

If it were the age of cell phones, I would’ve snapped a picture and tormented her with it forever. What a pity. Anyway, the reason we were out like this was the result of her accepting my offer: I had a place I absolutely wanted to take her, and I proposed we go quickly and come back within the allotted time.

‘She probably guessed. That I’m doing this to cheer her up.’

She’s a level 100 at reading people.

She’s likely following me so obediently precisely because she knows my intentions.

“We had to sneak out, but is it really alright without any escorts?”

“I’m capable enough to protect both myself and the young lady. No need to worry.”

Yeah, sorry. I’m actually a scrub.

Still, it’s not a lie that Caesar is lurking behind us, hidden and tailing us, so there’s no need to fret.

“So, where are we going?”

“To a place the young lady hasn’t been before.”

“…Me?”

Renée has been to every famous spot in the capital, so she claims she’s been everywhere. But it wasn’t without reason that I said she’d never been.

“…I’ve never been to a place like this before,”

Because where I brought her was a large, boisterous tavern.

No noble lady, born to grace, would ever set foot in a place like this.

Common folk after a hard day’s work, mercenaries celebrating a safe return to the capital, a lone knight quietly nursing a drink, couples with eyes brimming with honey – it was truly a gathering of all sorts. The tavern was so packed it was hard to find an open spot, but I managed to snag a decent one.

“Alright, let’s sit. May I order for us?”

“Yes, I don’t mind.”

“Good. Master…!”

I ordered something that she, at least, could stomach. Rene seemed surprised by how casually I made the order, a look of wonder on her face.

“You’re quite familiar with this. Have you been here often?”

“This tavern is new to me, but I’ve lived as a commoner much longer.”

“Ah, that’s right. I had forgotten…”

It’s easy to forget, I suppose.

A man who until recently was a commoner, now giving lip to a marquis’s daughter, even taking a stance against Marquis Raphael. Anyone looking would think he was some duke’s son.

“You said you wanted to show me this place. Is there a reason?”

“First, a question. Lady Rene, haven’t you been feeling rather strained lately?”

“…If I had to choose between feeling at ease or not, it’d be closer to the latter.”

She still didn’t want to show weakness, trying to change the topic. I extended my arm to the side and said,

“Will you look around a bit?”

“…?”

As she followed my suggestion, looking around, I took a sip of the freshly poured honey beer and continued,

“There might be a few exceptions, but they mostly seem cheerful. Does it look like there’s any pretense in their faces?”

“…No, it doesn’t seem so.”

She could mostly read the faces of others, but the people here, the majority, seemed genuinely happy. It was a stark contrast to the social circles with their thick, masking facades.

“It’s a somewhat somber story, but most of these people, so cheerful now, their lives are arduous. That’s generally how it is for commoners.”

“Is… is that so?”

A shadow fell across her face, like she’d been unaware of this.

“But sometimes, they gather with friends, colleagues, lovers, to comfort each other, to talk of brighter futures and gain strength. Then, they find the fortitude to endure the difficult days again.”

“…………….”

“I imagine the weight of being a Marquis’s daughter isn’t light for you, Miss Renée. But sometimes, setting it down, having a drink, taking a breather, that’s also a good thing. I wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Renée just blinked, silent, not saying a word to what I’d said.

Then, she smiled, as if something had clicked into place.

“I think… I understand now.”

“What do you mean?”

“How I should approach the acting.”

“Intriguing. Care to elaborate?”

Roughly, her story went like this:

She’d been so crushed under the pressure to do everything perfectly that even though she was a novice in the acting world, she’d chided herself for not immediately mastering what she had just learned. The stress had squeezed her harder, making her consider giving up altogether.

She knew that the title of Marquis’s daughter was no help at all when it came to acting. She was going to act like a student and take things step by step, thoroughly and methodically.

‘…Hmm.’

Those were indeed, plausible words.

So, what was my response after hearing of her epiphany?

“What is it that you think you know?”

“…Huh?”

She asked back, truly flustered, her expression vacant.

“I told you. I figured out how to act—”

“No. Miss still doesn’t know. What acting is.”

“………………??”

Leaving René, eyes wide with bewilderment, I rose from the table and walked somewhere. That somewhere was the main stage, the performance area of this tavern.

“Ah, everyone, please give me your attention.”

I picked up the microphone on the stage table and spoke without a moment’s hesitation.

““………………?””

All the aggro of this large tavern was drawn to me.

Even amidst that, René’s face, painted with shock, was clearly visible.

‘One by one, for sure, step-by-step? When will you ever get to a performance moving like a snail?’

René is now in a position where she has to understand a hundred things from learning one.

What’s best in this situation?

“In about ten minutes, we intend to put on a short play here for all of our guests.”

It’s ‘actual combat.’

Only actual combat can give many realizations in a short amount of time.

“Oh ho, a play, you say?”

“That sounds mighty entertaining!”

Already, the customers’ expectant reactions began to burst out.

Rene watches me with a *surely not, surely not* kind of look.

Maybe, just maybe, she’s truly hoping my declaration was just a one-man ass-shaking act to get the mood up.

“This play will star me, and that beautiful young lady over there! The two of us will put on a passionate performance—!”

Yeah, sorry, that’s not happening.

You’re doing it too.

“………………?!?”

““Whoooaaa—————————!!””

The customers are already getting into the groove with this guerilla play by a young couple. Everyone’s smiling, but there’s only one person whose insides are burning up.

“That, that crazy person is really…………!!”

With the heart of a lioness dropping her cub off a cliff,

I decided to raise her tough.

Be strong, Rene!