“Someone should do something like this every day of your life,” he said. Arista ducked her head. “My compliments embarrass you?”
“I’m just not used to it,” she admitted.
“I plan on changing that.” He took her hand and held it all the way to King’s Theatre. When Tomas opened the door and assisted Arista out, it was as if she’d stepped into another world. She had been to the Haymarket Theatre before with Nic, but it was nothing compared to the grandeur of King’s Theatre. Arista walked in on Grae’s arm amongst the grandest ladies of London. She held her head up high and swallowed the nerves that made her stomach tumble. No one knew who she was. They only saw a girl on the arm of a very handsome gentleman—if they even noticed her at all. There were so many breathtaking people there, both men and women, that Arista felt plain next to them.
“You’re still the most beautiful,” Grae whispered in her ear, as if he knew her thoughts.
As they stepped inside, a man in white gloves handed Grae a program. Alessandro. “What’s it about?” she asked Grae.
He only smiled. “You’ll see.”
As they made their way closer, Arista couldn’t help but be impressed—not only with the people and their attire, but with the opera house itself.
She ran her fingers over the intricate carvings that ran along the walls. As the two of them moved with the crowd, Arista felt at ease. This was so unlike the masquerades where people knew who she was—knew her reputation, and hated her for it. Tonight she was anonymous. It felt wonderful. Free.
She smiled shyly at Grae, who had not taken his eyes off her. How would she ever thank him for this?
They made their way slowly through a sea of brightly colored silk and satin, of wigs so high Arista feared they would topple off. She tightened her hold on Grae to keep herself grounded when they finally entered the main room. On either side of the stage, the boxes rose four stories high. People moved about in them, peering down at the crowd on the ground floor through glinting opera glasses.
The boxes held the most distinguished Londoners. Only the wealthiest had box seats: the dukes and duchesses, barons, earls, and of course, the King. Grae led them to two seats just five rows away from the orchestra pit. Around them people talked and laughed while Arista tilted her head back and stared at the painted horses and chariot flying through the clouds above.
Her chest tightened. This was the most perfect moment of her life, and she had Grae to thank for it. Her vision grew watery. Never in her life had she ever expected to meet someone like him.
He gave her hope and he didn’t even realize it.
A hush fell over the crowd, and everyone rose to their feet. Arista stood up with them. Grae leaned close. “The King has arrived.” He pointed to the very top row of boxes, the one in the center. King George stood at the rail, nodding his head at the crowd below.
Arista struggled to take a breath. She was in the same room as the King of England. A woman moved to his side and waved down at the crowd.
“That’s Ehnrengard Melusine von der Schulenburg, Duchess of Kendal—the King’s longtime mistress,” he whispered. Her eyes widened. The King brought his mistress to the opera? Of course Arista knew the rumors, that the Queen had been exiled to a faraway land years ago. And yet here they were at the opera, as if nothing was unusual about any of it. A short laugh broke free from her throat.
Grae turned, his eyes shining with happiness. “You like this?” he asked.
“I have no words.” She leaned in close so that she could whisper in his ear. “I’m in the same room as the King.” Then she laughed again.
“Indeed you are. And this is only the start. Look, it’s about to begin.” He motioned toward the stage, where the giant red curtains were starting to move.
The King sat, then everyone else followed suit. Murmurs died down to whispers. The curtain lifted.
Immediately they were thrown into battle on stage, and Arista’s heartbeat did not slow for the next three hours. She sat transfixed as she watched the story of Alexander the Great. Arista traveled with him to India; suffered the betrayal and treachery of his closest allies; cheered on the two women who vied for his love, until finally he chose Roxana; and fought alongside him in a final battle, emerging victorious.
Though she didn’t understand the words they sang, the story came alive on the stage. Every note sank into her very bones and stirred a storm of emotion in her that grew wilder with each passing minute. By the time the actors took their elaborate bows, her face was shining with tears. She was exhausted, not from the time spent sitting, but from the passionate longing that gripped her body as she watched the story play out.
She had held Grae’s hand the whole time and when she glanced over, she saw he was watching her, too. “That was…” Her breath caught on a soft sob. “That was amazing,” she whispered.