7th of Zi'da, Arc 717
Rat couldn’t help but smile as he leaned against the wall outside Isadore’s dressing room, listening to her chew out some poor serving girl who had gotten the order wrong. He felt horrible for the girl of course, as anyone who was screamed at by Isadore rarely deserved it, but the actress’ outbursts were so extreme that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes whenever she opened her mouth. Having only been with the theatre for three months, the boy was still learning how to navigate the rather extreme personalities that existed both on and off the stage. Isadore, however, proved one of the few constant personas that Rat knew how to read. She was dramatic, always, and somehow managed to remain in a constant state of crisis every second backstage. The other stage-hands, and actors if rumors were to be believed, hated having to do anything involving Isadore, but Rat didn’t mind the actress. If anything, he found her antics amusing, if a tad harsh at times.
As he heard the actress begin to her second round of scathing review, Rat decided to interrupt with a few loud knocks. In part, he wanted to spare the serving girl anymore of a tongue lashing. Whatever she did, Rat was sure she didn’t deserve this much of a tongue lashing. In truth, however, Rat just wanted to hurry along with his day. Today was show day after all, and his overseer Clay did not show kindness to the tardy.
“What?!” Isadore cried from the dressing room, still fuming with anger.
“Lady Venora, I was instructed by Mr. Stone to fetch you. He wishes to run lines with you before house lets in,” Rat explained, keeping his tone even and cautious. If he learned anything over three months in servitude to the Rynmere theatre, it was that actors were an excitable bunch. Best to approach with polite caution.
“Ah, well, alright then. I shall deal with you later,” she said pointedly to the girl, her tongue caustic with displeasure. As Isadore exited her dressing room, Rat turned to close the door behind the woman. As he did, he saw the serving girl shoot him an appreciative glance and mouth several rude expletives directed at the actress. Rat didn’t know exactly how to react, so he simply smiled, nodded, and closed the door before Isadore saw what colorful adjectives were being sent her way.
Stepping quickly to keep up with the actress, Rat noticed that she was already in full costume. A long, ruby ball gown clung tight to the woman’s form, no so much to be immodest but enough to display the edges of Isadore’s figure. Truly, she was a beautiful woman, and as she so very much liked to remind her fellow cast mates, Rynmere’s favorite damsel-in-distress. Rat thought she resembled the women he saw in the Warrick monastery’s stained-glass windows; sparkling and wonderous but tinged with fragility. In his stained white shirt, patchwork brown pants, and haggard work boots, Rat imagined he couldn’t look more opposite to the woman next to him.
“So, did our darling Daniel mention what scene he wished to run?” Isadore inquired, shaking Rat from his idle musings.
“No such luck, Lady Venora. Though I might’ve missed it through his clenched teeth and angry murmurs about how ‘that bastard Nathaniel was single-handedly taking a hatchet to good name of the arts’,” Rat japed quietly, keeping step with the actress as they wandered through the backstage of the theater. Nathaniel had written the play currently being produced by the Rynmere theatre, and as such cast himself as the show's leading man. Nathaniel, who in Rat's view held too high of an opinion of his ability, felt slighted that he wasn't even considered for the spot; thus came his grudge. When Rat had first arrived, he had been surprised by the amount of pettiness that could occur between such public figures, but he had grown used to hearing about whom hated whom at any given day. Stage-hands, servants, and slaves loved to gossip, and there was rarely a rumor that didn't reach Rat's ear.
“See that’s what I like about you Rat! Polite, informative, and funny at the same time,” Isadore laughed as she followed him through the veritable maze of loose material. Rat knew that the stage manager usually ran a tight ship, and that this level of mess was strange, but he supposed it was to be expected on the show day of such a set-heavy show. “Where did you get that wit of yours, hmm?”
“Church, my lady.” Rat answered simply, continuing forward even as the actress laughed quietly behind him. Several members of the cast and crew had pressed him for details about how he came to the theatre, but so far Rat had carefully deflected most of them. They knew that he was a slave being loaned out to the theatre by an aspiring writer and that he had come from a religious background, but that was about it. Yet, despite his status, Rat had found himself falling into a polite friendship with Lady Venora. She truly perplexed him.
“Yes, one would have to develop a sense of humor to deal with that lot," she paused thoughtfully, tapping one lithe finger against her porcelain skin. "You know, I could just force your master to tell me where you come from. You've been so frustratingly shy about that, and I know Desmond would do anything to have me read for one of his plays,” she whispered with a smile on her breath. The playful threat she had made hung heavy in the air, and Rat stayed silent in response. There was no true mystery about his childhood or his involvement in the Warrick monastery, but he would prefer that those in the theatre did not learn how he found himself in chains. “However, that wouldn’t be much fun, would it now?”
“I suppose not, my lady.” Rat breathed a sigh of relief as they approached Daniel Stone’s rehearsal space. He saw the actor hurriedly repeating lines from a script, his face lined with intensity. Rat would never cease to be amazed about how seriously these players took their craft. To the audience, it might have all been pretend, but Rat had seen through their efforts how very real these stage was to the actors.
“Here we are, my lady,” Rat smiled at the woman as he presented the space. She nodded at him in response, but held his gaze perhaps a second longer than would be considered comfortable. Nervously swallowing, Rat waited until the actors had began to talk to slip away from the space. He resolved that had no more time for the strange games that Lady Venora seemed intent on playing today, and besides, it was only a break until the show opened.
