Page 8 of Encore
Merlin
We should have been going through those photos, but honestly, you just sat there and listened when Madame Lucinda told stories. I wasn’t one of those people that respected someone just because they were older than me. Some people never learned. You could be a ninety-year-old dumbass still making the same mistakes and not learning from them.
Madame Lucinda? She had every ounce of respect in my body. That woman had ripped me so many assholes in front of the entire company and sometimes in private, and I loved her for it. She was never cruel. Everything she ever yelled in my face was to make me a better person or a better dancer.
I would have been devastated if Beyla hadn’t stopped her from violating the geas. We all would have. And I couldn’t say I wasn’tdyingto get some unfiltered dirt on Marsden.
“Marsden just showed up at one of our rehearsals like he owned the place. Isis was the artistic director then. I didn’t see it because I was running rehearsal with the corps. But I certainly heard about it. Marsden walked straight in and informed everyone he knew the part and could dance the male lead better than the one Isis cast, who was quite famous and talented.”
Did that shit work? Because in my mind, if anyone in this room had done that, we not only would have gotten our ass kicked straight out of the studio but we would also have been blackballed. Artistic director not taking offense at that aside, I would have imagined the dancer he insulted would have wanted to beat his Unseelie ass a bit. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“Seeing as how he’s now the artistic director, that arrogant gesture somehow worked?” Nicolai asked.
“Marsden was an unknown. Not a single person in that rehearsal knew who he was. Isis would have kicked him out, but I don’t need to tell anyone of you about dancers and their egos. Emil told him to prove it. He probably should have just beat his ass in hindsight because it cost Emil his lead role. Every male in this room except Bevan needs to take note of this story because you all have fat heads.”
Arden just shrugged.
“I wouldn’t have asked him to prove it by dancing. Instead, I would have shifted, carried him out of the studio with my claws, and dropped him on the pavement.”
“I would have hit him, too,” Nicolai said.
“As would I.”
“Hush. I have to watch the three of you postulating shirtless all over my studio all the time. You pompous assholes could have gone either way,” Madame Lucinda said.
Nyx fell out laughing.
“I’d miss you if you had died telling us about Santiago. The look on their faces when you tell them not everyone loves them like their social media followers is priceless.”
“Your opinion on that may change if this ballet kills one of these men.”
We all just grunted. I was used to Madame Lucinda trying to knock my ego down a peg, and I was getting used to it from Nyx, too. I’d miss everyone in this room if they died, and I certainly didn’t want to get murdered.
“Was that right after he defected from the Unseelie?” Beyla asked.
“According to him. Beyla has the means to pull his refugee file. Everything anyone knows about Marsden is what he wants them to believe. It’s a carefully crafted web of lies. He’s talented, and he got where he is on those merits, but that’s the only truth to Marsden.”
“An artistic director would have to be insane to try to pull off this ballet in this day and age,” Beyla said. “Crime scene evidence has come a long way in catching criminals. You might be able to control the narrative with press releases, but social media is its own beast. One viral Tweet could have them arrested. Marsden could have been born here. Plenty of Unseelie are. Everything we know about Santiago was that he was multi-talented. He could have mentored Marsden and brainwashed him into doing all this.”
Madame Lucinda huffed like there was something she wanted to say, but she’d start bleeding from her eyes again, and Beyla would use her magic to seal her mouth shut. Beyla was onto something, but it wasn’t right.
Something connected Marsden and Santiago more than just this ballet. They would have to be. There were only so many Unseelie secrets Marsden could give to keep his ass out of jail if all of us were murdered, especially since he asked for Beyla here.
“Pull his refugee file if it actually exists,” Madame Lucinda said. “All you are going to find online is what he wants you to see. It’s getting late, and I do need to eat.”
“I can cook something,” Beyla said.
Madame Lucinda just winked at her.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a hot-blooded young shifter and nothing you’d have in your kitchen but thank you.”
Arden immediately stood up.
“Don’t use the elevator again. If they got it working, you’d probably get stuck again, and since it’s after hours, they’ll take even longer to come to get you out. I’ll carry you down the stairs.”
“I’m not going to say no to being carried around like a queen by a tall, strapping gryphon. And you’ve been trained well enough to not drop a lady, unlike Merlin.”
“It was Bellatrix or a back injury that would have ended my career,” I huffed.
