Chapter 003
Arno’s next project was this:
The theater.
Or, to be more precise, it was a spectacle masquerading as a play.
‘The fallen princess of the Dukedom presents her lavishly decorated theater to the world.’
The Empire was currently abuzz with talk of Princess Mecenat. On the surface, it was out of indignation toward the princess who had disgraced the honor of the House of Mecenat, but the reality lay elsewhere.
Everyone felt a perverse, inexplicable joy watching the Dukedom—once the heart of Imperial culture—being torn asunder.
The heritage of a ruined Dukedom.
The phrase itself evoked a strange, voyeuristic fantasy. It held the melancholy of a lost era, but also the exhilarating thrill that “it was worth the ruin” thanks to the princess’s erratic behavior, forcing one to admire its splendor in spite of themselves.
That damned princess.
He wanted to put her on display.
“If I told you that I, who sold everything my family owned, still have something precious… would you believe me?”
The moment he heard those words.
The moment he saw the princess’s expression for the first time.
Inadvertently, he had almost believed her words were sincere.
No, he had almost believed that the princess was even capable of sincerity.
However, the moment he returned to the mansion and heard that she had immediately requested a ledger of the proceeds from the auction, he felt everything had snapped back to reality.
As soon as she gets that money, all she wants to do is buy dresses, jewelry, and hats.
Buying a theater was nothing more than an impulsive whim.
Precious memories?
How laughable.
Strangely, however, the princess’s face as she spoke of her memories with her grandfather remained etched in his mind.
The eyes of that moment, the voice, the very air.
Arno had conducted countless transactions and prided himself on detecting lies better than anyone.
And yet, that moment was absolutely not a lie.
But that didn’t necessarily mean her words were heartfelt.
Because she was merely a vessel of desires, devoid of any true sincerity.
‘But she is a vessel of desire worth selling.’
Thus, the following day, he requested a luncheon with the princess, who had predictably overslept.
Arno usually avoided conversations with such eccentric collectors because they always devolved into “jewels, men, and clothes,” but today there was an important business matter to discuss.
And then, on the spot—.
“Princess.”
“…….”
“Princess.”
“…….”
“Louisa!”
“Huh?”
Louisa’s eyes snapped open. It was absurd—Luisa Mecenat had been dozing off right across from him.
The same woman who used to be obsessed with staring at his face every time they dined.
“…Did you not sleep well?”
“Usually, this time of day is the crack of dawn for me. Besides, I spent yesterday reading books, assessing the situation, and most of all, reviewing the ledger…. Oh, right. What were we talking about?”
Books? He had never heard that the princess had any interest in reading.
Moreover, since when did she address him so informally?
While she was vicious in her youth, Louisa had become servile and desperate to please Arno ever since the Dukedom began its decline.
Why the sudden change?
Arno’s bewilderment didn’t last long, however, because the word “ledger” had come out.
It meant she hadn’t slept because she was fantasizing about the money coming her way all night.
Of course.
Arno, displeased that he had been watching her sleeping face for quite some time without realizing it, said coldly:
“Nothing has been said yet. We were just about to begin.”
“Ah, I see. Then—”
Louisa set down her cutlery with perfect table manners.
Though born an aristocrat, the princess had always been notoriously lacking in etiquette.
He thought perhaps because she was raised as her grandfather’s pampered pet, she had never learned proper decorum.
‘Now I see it wasn’t that she didn’t know how, but that she simply didn’t.’
Arno waited, somewhat stunned, for Louisa’s next words.
“I’ll start. I reviewed the ledger all day yesterday.”
I’m sure you did.
“I thought my head was going to explode doing the calculations myself….”
Calculations? It was surprising that she even had the sense to attempt such a thing.
“If I am to repay the debt I incurred from buying the theater, I believe it would be better to actually run it rather than letting it sit idle. If you permit, I wish to manage it myself.”
“……?”
For a moment, Arno’s face stiffened.
Beside him, Alfredo’s hands shook as he poured water.
The princess had never done anything productive in her life other than drinking and meeting men.
Arno hadn’t expected her to “run” the theater; he only planned to ask for her help in “decorating” it.
He thought that by doing so, Louisa, who loved extravagance, might be easily swayed.
Since this venture would inevitably involve her lavish tastes, he even thought of using the cancellation of her debt as bait.
In truth, the cost of the theater was equivalent to a year’s finances for an average noble family, but the Dience fortune was of a different scale entirely.
Moreover, while the princess said she would repay the money, it was clear she had neither the ability nor the will to do so.
So, he had planned to use money he would never receive anyway as leverage.
‘Are you truly going to pay me back? And by jumping into theater management?’
Arno looked at Louisa with a puzzled gaze.
As his health declined, Louisa’s grandfather had made great efforts to instill in her the ability to lead the family.
That included entrusting her with various projects within the Dukedom.
However, Louisa’s extravagant antics had consistently ruined those businesses.
A woman like that running a theater?
Arno couldn’t believe it, yet he was already thinking of how to turn this “luck” to his advantage.
He decided to play hard to get.
“And why should I trust you with the management of the theater?”
“I knew you would say that.”
The princess pulled a notebook from her bodice as if she had been waiting for the question.
As she yawned and turned her head, he noticed her hair, which was usually braided with excessive ostentation, was now roughly pinned up with quills.
She had never appeared so disheveled before—she was a person who lived for the vanity of her own appearance.
“Business people like to invest in art, but they don’t part with their money easily.”
She was even muttering business logic.
“So, I wrote a play. I’ve outlined the creative intent, characters, setting, and even a rough budget. In my opinion…”
Louisa, with drowsy eyes, looked down at the “play” she had written and grinned.
It was the first time he had seen such a smile from her.
A genuine smile, free of artifice.
‘She’s incredibly arrogant, yet strangely girlish.’
Arno found himself unable to take his eyes off her face again.
“I think this will work.”
It was a screenplay.
Louisa was someone who knew how to spend money, but certainly didn’t know how to write.
In her youth, she had likely only visited theaters to flirt with the actors.
“How can you be so sure it will work?”
“You’ll know when you read it. The script is perfect.”
Her confidence was oddly overwhelming, so he picked up the manuscript she presented.
On the cover, it read:
<Romeo and Juliet>
“Romeo? Juliet? What are these names? They’re tacky.”
“…….”
The princess didn’t answer.
I just felt a bit dumbfounded.
Even though I stayed up all night reading books, I couldn’t get used to the fact that Shakespeare didn’t exist in this world—it was that absurd.
* * *
I was surprised that Arno, after reading the script, allowed me to run the theater more easily than I anticipated.
But his subsequent explanation made sense.
‘In truth, “running” a theater isn’t much. The junior staff handles the money, Alfredo handles the accounting, and the actors do the acting. But the script… it was decent. It seems the Duke’s efforts to expose the Princess to culture weren’t entirely in vain.’
Though his tone was sarcastically sharp, it was permission nonetheless.
The reason was simple: the world of this novel is based on Europe during the Shakespearean era.
I suspected it when I first arrived, but reading through the literature last night confirmed it.
In Shakespeare’s time, managing a theater really only required three things: an investor, a script, and actors.
The concepts of a “Producer” or “Director” didn’t exist yet.
Famous stories were passed down orally and performed everywhere, and the success of a show was determined not by a director’s vision, but by the individual skill of the actors.
In fact, research has shown that not all of Shakespeare’s plays are original creations; some are collections of existing oral traditions.
Thus, Shakespeare himself was likely more of a planner who understood acting.
So, what Arno acknowledged wasn’t me—it was Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.
And going a step further—.
‘He’s likely banking on the symbolism of Luisa Mecenat.’
In the original story, Count Arnaud Dience was a businessman without blood or tears.
Like Shylock in The Merchant of Venice.
When he decided to invest in the theater, he was likely valuing my status as the “spoiled princess of a fallen house” more than the artistic merit of the work.
I am currently the Empire’s “It Girl”—the notorious villainess.
When a woman like that buys a theater and stages a show, people will flock there, if only out of curiosity and spite.
Arno doesn’t care how Louisa feels about being the target of public ridicule; he is cold-blooded.
But he is also highly intelligent.
Even if Luisa Mecenat is mocked, the performance itself will undoubtedly be a hit, and ticket prices will skyrocket.
Since I am not the real Luisa, I have no reason to feel resentful about being used like a puppet.
My job is to make the people who came to mock me stay to admire the show.
To change the fate of this villainess and repay the Count’s debt, I intend to try my hand at directing Romeo and Juliet.
“To do that, I need to meet an actor first, right?”
I put on the hat Louisa had chosen and left the mansion.
Alfredo followed behind me, looking anxious.
“Are you truly going to see him?”
Ah, the actor I planned to cast had a connection to Louisa.
To be precise—.
“With the Count’s money…”
Alfredo whispered, glancing around nervously.
“…you’re going to propose a play to your ex-lover?”
Or should I call him my former “paramour”?
I smiled brightly at the horrified Alfredo.
“I don’t know if he’ll even show up. But if you want to cast a romantic lead, you have to go where the handsome men are, right?”
Good grief, why does acting like this wicked girl come so naturally to me?
If I had played a role like this in my past life, I would have beaten Shin Seong-hyeon and won a Tony Award.
