STAGE
The theatre?” Enola asked in shock, when Jacob told her about it that afternoon. “You have never been to the theatre in your life, Jacob. You always said it sounded boring.”
“Well,” he said. “The invitation is for all the officers, so I suppose I have no choice, especially if Colonel Evenclear does not attend. I must go as his representative.”
“Well, good luck to you,” she said as she tore apart some leaves to dry. He continued to stand there, and she looked up again. “What is it?”
“Well, I am not going alone,” he said, after an awkward moment.
“Of course not, you are going with the other officers and the British lady,” she said, trying to count out just how many bundles she could make. She thought she had it, but Jacob was constantly distracting her.
Jacob crouched down to look her in the face and she leaned back.
“What?” she asked.
“Enola,” he said evenly. “We have always been in this life together, through sorrow and joy. If I have to fall asleep at a theatre performance, you can bet you'll be at my side.”
“Oh no,” she said, her voice harsh. “Not me.”
“Yes,” he repeated and she gritted her teeth.
“If I do this, then you will be copying out my translations for the colonel for the next month.”
“Month?” he argued. “A week.”
“Month,” she said and held steadfast to her decision. Jacob sighed.
“Three weeks.”
“Fine,” she said. “How long is this play?”
“Why, will I be in your debt another week if it is three hours rather than two?” he asked as he stood.
He looked tired, she thought, and she should not be giving him such a hard time. However, her choices were tied to his and she did not like being so trapped by someone else.
Something occurred to her as he turned to walk away. “Is Major Holde coming?”
“Aye,” Jacob replied. “Of course. Unless he is in a mood, which seems to be frequent of late.”
“He is grieving.” Enola was quick to defend him and Jacob raised an eyebrow.
“Alright,” he said, not willing to get into it. “So you can sit with him then, since you understand each other so, it seems.”
“What do you mean by that?” Enola asked, just as quick to defend herself. Jacob shrugged.
“I saw you two headed toward the woods this morning.”
“He wanted...” Enola sighed. “I do not have to explain myself to you.”
“No,” Jacob replied. “You do not. I am not your father, nor your keeper.”
“But you are,” she said. “Holde's sergeant was asking that earlier. As long as I am unmarried, society dictates that I answer to a man.”
“My society says that, yes,” he replied. “But not yours, Enola, not if you do not want it to. Trust your spirit, your heart.”
“You sound like my father,” she said, and he smiled.
“Someone should. We leave at 7:00.”
“Thrilling,” she replied, but her tone was lighter, and Jacob had a feeling it was because of Major Holde's attendance. “What should I wear?”
“Now who’s the great Lady?” he chuckled and quirked an eyebrow. “Wear whatever you want, I do not care. You always look the same to me.”
“Always the charmer, Jacob,” she said, going back to her herbs. However, silently, she was thinking about the evening. She had never been to the theatre, although she had seen many performances within her own community. The music, the dancing, the story telling, it always thrilled her.
She only had one other dress with her, and it was the clothing she had come to the war with; a leather skirt and a blouse. She had very little jewelry, and certainly no paint, which would have been traditional for going out. She hesitated in tying her hair back, and then eventually brushed it out and let it hang at her shoulders. If they were going to forget about the war for one night, then she was going to do it right. Besides, the officers knew that she was not spoiled for choice. They had their regular uniforms or dress uniforms, and that was it.
“Is she Ophelia?” the pirate captain, Aaron, was asking as Enola joined them by the campfire where they’d agreed to meet. The British Lady, Lady Bamber, bore a remarkable resemblance to him. Enola thought they could be twins, with the same coloring and height. It was striking, and she lowered her eyes to stop staring.
“She is,” Lady Bamber said. “And I imagine she will be dazzling at it.”
“Lola was always good at acting mad,” Aaron said and Enola's brow furrowed.
“Do you know one of the players, then?”
Aaron spun around, and for one moment, she saw panic in his eyes. However, it was quickly calmed, as if nothing at all was the matter. “I do,” he said plainly. “She works in Britain, normally, and tours quite a bit.”
“What an odd coincidence,” Enola replied. “How do you know her?”
Aaron glanced to Annabelle. “We....Lola and I grew up together,” he said. “She is a good friend.”
“Oh?” Enola asked.
“Much like you and Captain Jacob,” Aaron said, and she understood.
“Of course,” she replied as Jacob himself approached. Normally, she would be delighted to see him. Now, she looked right past him, to Holde.
His dress uniform was just as rugged as he was; his stubble reflecting off the dying sunlight and his form strong under the binding jacket. He briefly smiled at her, but said nothing.
“And there's my husband,” Annabelle said, interrupting their thoughts. “Late as always.”
“Right on time, I believe, madam,” Harold said, squinting at the sun. “To the moment.”
She giggled, clear peals of laughter as she put a hand on his arm. It was obvious that she adored him, and Enola wondered if it was a love match. Then again, she knew British nobles did not marry for love, so this was a confusing relationship. If ladies were fond of men, it certainly was not their husbands.
“Is that all?” Jacob asked, and Aaron sighed.
“I do not think Wesley is going to join us.”
“He should,” Harold said, tearing his eyes away from Annabelle. “It will be good for him.”
“Well, unless you want to argue with him, Harold...” Aaron started, but he was cut off as Wesley approached.
The first mate reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were hazy. Enola did not have to smell his breath to know that he likely would not make it through the night.
“Good God, man,” Aaron said. “Is that any way to---”
“All due respect, Captain,” Wesley said. “I'll handle it however I want.”
“Wesley....” Aaron started, but Harold put a hand on the captain's arm.
“Let it go,” he said, softly. Aaron was clearly torn, but eventually shrugged.
“Sure,” he said. “It is your funeral.”
“Always cheery, Cap,” Wesley answered. Enola fell into step beside Holde as they walked, trying not to listen to the bickering ahead of them.
“Have you ever been to the theatre before?” she asked.
“No,” he snorted. “I did not grow up a privileged Lord. That was not my childhood entertainment.”
“I have never been either,” she admitted. “Although for different reasons.”
“Oh?” he asked.
“In my culture...entertainment of this type is around a campfire, with singing and dancing, music, everything is live and right there. The idea of a stage...elevating some above others, it is...not the way we do it, is all.”
“So we shall learn together,” he replied, as they listened to the slight bickering up ahead. He shook his head eventually. “God, they're miserable.”
Enola's mouth fell open. “What?”
“Sorry, not the best words to say to a lady,” he said. “But it is true.”
“What can you not stand?” she inquired.
“Just...” His eyes cast up. “Look at them. There's obviously some history between the three of them, but instead of acknowledging it, they feign something else. Captain Halloway in particular feigns some sort of optimistic attitude that does not match the pain in his eyes. Life is too short to pretend to be someone else.”
“Aye,” she replied softly. “I agree with that. Jacob hates confrontation, but he will stand in the middle of it to avoid it. Like a barrier; a wall.”
“I get the feeling your brother would rather be somewhere else, always,” Holde said and she gave him a smile.
“You are a good judge of people's souls. He is not a soldier, but war often makes us what we are not. I do hope that this war will be over soon.”
“And if it is?” Holde asked. “Will you go home?”
“Oh,” she sighed. “I am not sure what home is anymore.”
“Neither am I, lass,” he said and gave her a look. “Neither am I.”
They came upon the theatre almost by accident; rounded a corner and were surprised by the grand marquee. It was majestic, almost like a palace.
“This is grand,” Holde said under his breath. “We're fighting a war and they are building theatres.”
“We're looking for Miss Lola Montclair,” said the pirate lord to the doorman. The doorman seemed to expect them, and held open the grand door, sweeping them inside.
“Oh my,” said Enola, unable to control her mouth falling open as she looked around. Even the lobby was grand, with red velvet and lit wall sconces, getting ready for the evening performance.
“Aaron!” came a voice from around the corner.
Tall and thin, with dark hair down to her waist, Lola came flying around the corner, wearing a white gown that made her look like a fairy tale princess. She flew into Halloway’s arms, joy on her face.
“Lola Montclair, ladies and gentlemen,” Halloway said with a grin, when he finally managed to untangle himself from her.
“Well, that is proper,” Jacob said sarcastically in Enola's ear, and she just shrugged.
“Perhaps not to you,” she replied. “But you know touch is different in my society.”
“You may have noticed we are not there,” Jacob replied. “Nor in private.”
“Hush,” she bumped him as Lola gave a little curtsey to everyone around. Enola noticed that she avoided Wesley's eyes completely.
“I wish I could stay to chat, but we have one final rehearsal before the show and this lobby will be filled with people in a moment. Your seats are secured in the box, and I'll just need the nobles at the front, in the absence of the King.”
“What?” Harold suddenly said, surprised.
Lola exchanged a glance with Halloway, which Enola did not miss.
“The King isn't here to grace the opening night, so anyone of noble blood has to. Harold, Annabelle....”
“Enola is high ranking,” Jacob blurted out, clearly not quite understanding what was happening. Enola nearly hit him in shock, for she understood completely.
“Are you?” Lola turned to her. “That’ll be lovely, a representative from the Natives! Oh, everyone will love that. So there's four seats up front, and four in the back, you can arrange. Thank you!”
With that, she scampered off.
“Do not worry,” Annabelle said. “It is not complicated. We stand up before the curtain goes up, everyone applauds, and we sit down.”
“Of course,” Enola said, not wanting to be disrespectful. “I despise you,” she said to Jacob as soon as everyone's back was turned and they started moving toward the theatre. She took Major Holde's arm then, so she did not have to speak to Jacob. “Will you sit with me?”
“Of course,” he replied, feeling tingles go up his spine as they touched.