[How about we go see a play tomorrow?]
The first conversation to reconcile their differing opinions in the bedroom, where the two had been extremely tense, ended with her agreeing on an appointment with Alto. Upon hearing Viviana’s story, Leta clapped her hands in delight.
“You’re going to see a play! Wow, congratulations.”
“This one… what’s there to congratulate?”
“Of course, it’s something to congratulate you on. It’s a date, after all.”
“D-date.”
Viviana’s face turned bright red. Come to think of it, that was true. A date.
‘We’re engaged, so it’s not strange for us to see a play together. Alto probably just suggested it without any special meaning.’
Viviana kept suppressing the fluttering, restless feelings in her heart. She had already faced countless disappointments throughout her marriage. If she allowed herself to hope, she would only end up hurting herself.
But no matter how much she tried to suppress her hopes, Viviana’s heart kept filling with expectation for Alto. This time, things might actually be different. After all, he had never once invited her to do something like this before.
And that hope reached its peak the next afternoon, when they were going out to see the play. As Viviana came down wearing a white, flowing empire waist dress [1] that hugged just below her chest, Alto took her hand and praised her.
“You look beautiful.”
“D-Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
"I’m sincere. You’re so beautiful that it makes me anxious. Everyone else must be thinking the same thing."
“Alto!”
Why was this man saying things he never used to say? Feeling both embarrassed and flustered, Viviana let out a sharp squeal.
Then, seeing Alto lower his eyes, she thought, ‘Oops.’
‘At this rate, nothing will change.’
This man was trying to change, while she remained in the same place.
Holding Alto’s hand, Viviana climbed into the carriage and cleared her throat. Earlier, there had been many people, but now it was just the two of them inside. Summoning all her courage, she spoke in a very small voice.
“...Thank you for the compliment.”
At Viviana’s words, Alto blinked as if surprised. Then, in a calm tone, he added:
“I’m just telling the truth.”
“Now, be quiet.”
Why was this man so calm even when giving compliments? It was as if he were merely stating an objective fact. That only made it feel more embarrassing. Viviana fanned her flushed face with her hand.
Watching her closely, Alto slightly furrowed his brow and asked back.
“Does my compliment make you uncomfortable? If so, I won’t say it again.”
“T-That’s not it. I’m just embarrassed, that’s all.”
“So, does that mean you like it?”
“Don’t ask about every little thing!”
Viviana shouted again, then made an ‘oh no’ expression. Thanks to that, Alto realised she wasn’t raising her voice out of genuine dislike. He straightened his posture and faced her fully, then stared at her face as if inspecting every detail.
“Today you’ve braided your hair to one side. It would have looked lovely decorated with a white flower. Of course, it’s beautiful even as it is now.”
“T-Thank you.”
“Your lips are so red that my eyes keep drifting to them.”
“...Now, seriously, be quiet.”
Before Alto could add another word, Viviana abruptly turned her head. It seemed she would need some time to get used to compliments.
✦ ✦ ✦
Viviana wore a lightweight dress because she thought performances were always held in grand theatres, with high-ranking nobles sitting there putting on airs. In her previous life, the only performances she had attended were operas produced by the royal family, which all nobles were required to attend.
But the theatre Viviana arrived at today with Alto, by carriage, was small and cosy, with narrow seats and hardly any high-ranking nobles in sight. Viviana blinked and let out a gasp.
“I’ve never been to such a small theatre before. Not that I’ve been to many big ones, either.”
Alto escorted her, explaining as he went.
“Operas are mostly performed in large theatres, but many plays are done by small troupes. For our family, it’s more efficient to support as many troupes as possible, so we tend to give more support to the smaller ones.”
It wasn’t support given out of genuine love for the arts, but to show off that they were doing what everyone else was doing. So naturally, the number was what mattered.
‘It’s quite likely Alto doesn’t even know what kind of play this is.’
After all, it was impossible to imagine Alto carefully analysing each detail of the play and investing in it.
She had worried her outfit might feel out of place among the crowd, but fortunately, there was a VIP box on the second floor just for the two of them. Seated on the sofa, Viviana flipped through the program, her eyes shining. The title of the play was <Who Is the Child’s Father?>.
"The title is unusual. I guess it’s about figuring out who the child’s father is."
“I suppose it is.”
Alto thought to himself, ‘How could anyone not know who the child’s father is?’ but didn’t voice it.
While Viviana looked at the program with eyes full of anticipation, the theatre lights went out and the curtain rose.
But the content was something neither of them could have imagined.
‘What is this!?’
Viviana stared at the stage, her mouth agape. On stage were three men, each with a different charm, pleading with the female lead in turn.
“That night — I can’t forget the sound of you moaning beneath me. I don’t care whose child it is! Just give me the chance to be the father!"
“Move aside! If you calculate the month the baby was born, it’s obviously me. I was the one who slept with Mary at that time!”
“You’re all too noisy. Why don’t you come back after you’ve got the means to support Mary and the baby?”
That’s right. This play was more than just melodramatic — it was an unapologetically explicit portrayal of sexual desire.
The reason the father was unknown was that Mary had slept with several men. The three men who loved her each actively competed for her, hoping to be the one and only man in her life.
So, at the climax, Mary got into bed with all three men at once, saying she would decide based on who was best in bed. Then, questioning the need to choose just one husband, she ended up living together with all three.
As she stepped out of the theatre, Viviana murmured with a dazed expression.
“W-What in the world...”
From the moment the female lead climbed onto the bed with all three men at once, claiming she would have sex with them simultaneously, Viviana's mind refused to process the play’s content. The performance depicted its licentious and erotic plot just as faithfully as the three men’s sexual scenes. Though seemingly mindful of censorship, the actors all wore thin clothing, but their actions were unmistakably sexual.
‘It really feels like I’m the only one in the world being left out. Are you telling me that a play like this was actually produced, and that ordinary people would freely watch it in broad daylight?’
What on earth had her past life been for, living so ascetically in leather panties and a tight chest covering that pressed down her ample breasts?
Still in a daze, Viviana turned to look at Alto, who had brought her to see the play. He, too, seemed to have never imagined it would be like this, his face pale and frozen.
“...”
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Seeing his fists clenched so tightly they looked like they might bleed, Viviana asked, her voice full of concern.
“Alto, are you okay?”
Viviana wiped Alto’s forehead with a handkerchief. But Alto pulled back as if to avoid her touch, turning his body away without meeting her eyes.
"...Excuse me, I’ll just go to the restroom for a moment."
“Do you feel like throwing up? Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He vanished somewhere as if fleeing. Viviana clenched the handkerchief, still damp with Alto’s cold sweat.
‘I hope Alto is okay.’
It was clear that the wildly licentious content of the play had deeply shocked Alto, who was almost obsessively fastidious. Sighing, Viviana walked ahead toward the carriage. The maid, Leta, who had been waiting there with the coachman, approached with sparkling eyes.
“Did you enjoy the show, my lady? Where is the young master?”
Facing Leta, Viviana felt as if the tension keeping her together had suddenly snapped.
“I couldn’t enjoy it at all, Leta!”
“Why? I really enjoyed it! Since you were watching from above, you must have seen everything more vividly, right? I’m so jealous. From below, looking up at the characters on the bed, many parts were hidden from view. Still, it played out just as I had imagined, so I am satisfied.”
From what she heard, the girl hadn’t waited quietly at all, but had enjoyed the play more enthusiastically than anyone else. Viviana, her face bright red, whispered to Leta.
“…Did you know it was going to be like this?”
“Yes! It’s based on a novel.”
“What? A novel?”
“<Who Is the Child’s Father?> is also a novel by Author Arthur.”
“Arthur? You mean the romance novelist I’ve read?”
This risqué play was originally a novel by the same author who had written the werewolf story that Viviana had found so fascinating. Leta promoted the work in a proud, boastful tone, as if she herself were the author.
“<Who Is the Child’s Father?> has an exciting story in which three men compete for the love of a woman and her child. It’s said to be the bible of the reverse harem genre.”
Reverse harem. After the 'non-human male lead,' another term she had never encountered before appeared.
‘The world is vast, and tastes are diverse.’
Viviana was struck anew by this realisation. She was also surprised to notice her heart racing with curiosity, eager to find out what other kinds of stories might exist.
‘I want to read the original novel too.’
The play was already so risqué, so the book must be even more so, right?
‘No, it’s not like I’m reading it just for the risqué parts! The story is really well-structured and entertaining. Besides, I’m curious to find out who the real father is in the end.’
Even though no one could read her thoughts, Viviana offered an unnecessary excuse. Then, out of embarrassment, she cleared her throat.
Leta, who had been excitedly gushing about how impressed she was with the play, only then recalled that Viviana had come alone and tilted her head.
"By the way, where did the young master go?"
Thanks to that, Viviana remembered Alto, whom she had momentarily forgotten. Her face clouded with worry.
“He went to the bathroom. I’m worried he might be throwing up. Should I get some cold juice? Orange juice would be best when you feel nauseous, right?” [2]
“What? The young master might be throwing up? But it’s supposed to be risqué and entertaining — what on earth about it would make him nauseous?”
“I don’t know either!”
Viviana propped her chin on her hand and answered analytically.
“I think it might have been a bit too stimulating for him. When the woman got into bed with three men at the same time, even I covered my eyes with my hand.”
“Oh my, oh my. How could you look away from such a legendary scene like that? You should stare at it as if you're taking a photograph. I’ll definitely go see it again once I get my paycheck this month.”
“Leta!”
She couldn’t bring herself to say that she wanted to come along, not daring to utter it as a proper, refined lady. Leta, grinning like a mischievous little devil as if she knew everything, asked Viviana.
“Be honest. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
“It was entertaining.”
“It was risqué, wasn’t it?
"...It was extremely risqué."
Hearing Viviana’s assessment, Leta nodded in satisfaction.
“It must’ve been just the right amount of shock for the uptight young master.”
“Hurry and go get some orange juice!”
“Yes! Please wait in the carriage, my lady.”
While Leta went to buy orange juice, Alto, who had said he was going to the bathroom, returned. His face was still pale, and Viviana, genuinely worried, asked him.
“Are you alright, Alto?”
“...Yes, it’s nothing.”
“Let’s hurry back to the manor.”
"Really, I’m fine."
In her past life, Viviana had never seen Alto look so pale. He had always been healthy, never sick, so seeing him like this filled her with unease. She tried once more to persuade him to return to the manor, but at his next words, Viviana’s lips clamped shut.
“How about we go to the bookstore next?”
“Bookstore?”
“You mentioned you’ve been interested in reading lately, right?”
“Th-that...”
Viviana clenched her fists. The offer was far too sweet to refuse.
‘She said earlier that the play was based on a novel by Arthur, right? I’d love to read the original novel too.’
Opportunities like this didn’t come every day. In all her past and present lives, this was the first time she had ever gone out. Going to the bookstore with Alto and buying the books she longed for might be her first and last chance.
In the end, Viviana cried out, her face flushed with excitement.
“O-Okay!”
Translator's Corner:
[1] An "empire waist dress" has a fitted bodice that drapes under the bustline, rather than at the natural waistline. It has a slimming and lengthening effect and is also known as the "empire silhouette." Source: https://www.masterclass.com/articles/empire-waist-dress-guide
[2] If you're feeling nauseous, I don't recommend drinking orange juice, since it's acidic and can actually upset your stomach more. Instead, drinking water, ginger tea, or electrolytes would be better!
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