“Pon” Richmon clapped.
Then, actors who had been performing the play up till now…, about six men and women, pulled out their wands hidden in their trousers or jackets, and aimed them at Henrietta.
Young women started causing an uproar.
“Silence! Watch the play silently!”
The angry voice of Richmon… revealing his true nature, resounded within the theater.
“Anyone who makes a noise will be killed. This is not a play.”
Suddenly, the whole building was wrapped up in silence.
“You were really unlucky coming here, Your Majesty.”
Henrietta… muttered quietly.
“Actors… were your partners.”
“Yes. This is not a bluff. They are first class casters.”
“And terrible actors as it seems.”
Richmon clasped Henrietta's hand. Henrietta got goosebumps from his repulsive touch.
“My scenario is far reaching. Your majesty, I am going to take you as a hostage. Then, I’ll arrange a ship to Albion. Your persona will be my emigration gift to Albion. The end.”
“Indeed. This play’s scenario is yours. The stage is Tristain and the actor is Albion…”
“And you’ll be the heroine. So, take part in this comedy.”
“Unfortunately, only tragedy suits my taste. I can’t take part in such a monkey show.”
“Sadly, in this life, no one acts against my scenario.”
Henrietta shook her head. Her eyes shone with confidence.
“No, today’s play scenario belongs to me.”
“Your management is bad. Sadly, as a chairman, I can’t allow you to destroy the play.”
Henrietta, not losing her composure… pointed her wand towards the mages, impersonating actors.
“The bad ones are the actors. They are ham actors. One cannot help but notice.”
“Don’t say such extravagant things. Sooner or later they will be celebrated actors in Albion.”
“Now, leave the stage.”
Up till now, noisy and frightened women….
After Henrietta’s words, they changed their looks completely and pulled out their guns at the same time
Richmon’s subordinate mages, who were pointing wands at Henrietta, surprised by the spectacle, delayed their movements.
Doon! Sounds of tens of gun shots melted into one big sound.
Because inside of the theater the sound was multiplied, it felt like a thunderous roar.
When the dark, thick smoke cleared up… The Albion mages who were impersonating actors were riddled with bullets, all of them were killed on the stage before casting a single spell.
All theater spectators… were members of the musketeers. Naturally, even the suspicious Richmon could not see this through.
All the musketeers were young commoners… moreover – women.
Henrietta informed her neighbor spectator in an icy tone,
“Please stand up, Richmon. The play is over.”
Richmon stood up with much effort.
He laughed loudly and pulled out the dagger at the same time.
Continuing to laugh loudly like a madman, not afraid of the swords pointed at him, Richmon went up to the stage slowly. The musketeers surrounded him. They were prepared to skewer him if he were to make even one suspicious movement.
“Know when to give up! Richmon!”
“I am glad with the success! Cannot become a splendid scenario written by Her Majesty! So much for my play scenario…”
Richmon watched the surrounding musketeers in a hoity-toity way.
“Your Majesty… The last advice from someone who served Your Majesty since the day of your birth.”
“Speak.”
“Though it started a long time ago, Your Majesty…”
When Richmon stood up in the corner of the stage… and *Don* hit the floor with his foot. Then, just like pitfall, the floor opened.
“It ends up short here.”
Richmon fell straight through it. Though the musketeers ran up hastily …the floor shut and did not open though they pushed or pulled. Apparently, it was controlled by magic.
“Your Majesty…”
All members watched Henrietta anxiously. Mortified, after biting her fingernails, Henrietta looked up and bellowed,
“Search for him at the front gates! Move it!”
The hole led to an underground passageway. Richmon made this loophole for a rainy day.
To stop from falling Richmon used ‘Levitation’ and, putting a light spell on his wand, began to walk through the underground passageway while illuminating the ground under his feet. The passage ran to Richmon's residence. He needed to return there. He was going to escape to Albion after collecting his money.
“However… the one that led to this was the Princess…”
On the day of his escape, he was going to apply to Cromwell for one troop regiment. Then he’d return to Tristain again, catch Henrietta, and after repaying her for today’s humiliation many times over, he’d rape and kill her.
While walking and imagining such things… he saw a shadow in the light.
A moment passed.
The face that surfaced from the darkness was… the face of Agnes, the musketeer.
“Oh my, it’s Richmon-dono. Taking another way home?”
Agnes said with a smile. Her voice echoed in the narrow, gloomy and damp passage.
“You…”
Smiling in relief, Richmon answered. Indeed, they might have found out about this secret passage and might have seen his theater plans… but this was not a mage, just a fencer who ambushed him, this should not be hard. He, like most mages, looked down on fencers.
“Move out of the way. There is no time to play with you. It’s too bothersome to kill you in a place like this.”
After Richmon’s words, Agnes pulled out her pistol.
“Checkmate. I have already uttered an incantation. I’ll only have to release it on you. Bullets can’t get past my twenty layer mail. Your obligation to Henrietta doesn’t include giving your life. Because you are a commoner.”
Richmon continued talking in a bored tone.
“An insect's pay is not worth going against a noble’s spell. Leave.”
Agnes squeezed out the words.
“I will kill you not out of loyalty to Her Majesty, but for my personal revenge.”
“Personal revenge?”
“D'Angleterre (Angle province).”
Richmon smiled. Come to think of it, the other day, before leaving my residence… this fellow asked me about it. That was why, Richmon, finally understanding the reason, laughed.
“I see! So you are that village’s survivor!”
“You were responsible for that crime… my hometown was destroyed without even knowing why.”
Agnes declared, biting her lip. A stream of blood ran down her lips.
“Romalia’s heresy, ‘Protestant Hunt’. You claimed ‘Protestantism’ was a rebellion and crushed my town. How much did you earn from Romalia’s religion agency in return, Richmon?”
The edges of Richmon’s lips turned up.
“Amount of money you ask? You want to know? I’d like to tell, but I cannot remember the sum of the bribe.”
“Is money all you believe in? Miserable man.”
“The way you trust in god, I trust in my money, is there any difference? The way you regret about relatives that passed away, I yearn for money, is there any difference? Tell me. I would like to know.”
“I’ll kill you. Spend your savings in hell.”
“Though it is wasteful to use a noble’s spell on the likes like you… this is fate.”
Richmon muttered releasing the spell.
A huge ball of fire appeared on the tip of the wand and flew towards Agnes.
He expected for Agnes to shoot the pistol that she was gripping in her hand… yet, she threw it away.