And Rhys leaped to his feet to clap as loudly as he could, hands flapping together like a seal as he cried out congratulations to his fellow performers.
She grabbed his coat hem, the gold thread of his Mercutio costume glinting as the lights came back up for the final bows. “Rhys!” she shouted, tugging again. “Rhys!”
“What?!” he snapped, snarling at her.
“Take fairy fire out,” she said, climbing up his coat to stand herself as he tried to bat her off. “Set a few more sparks off as you bow. It’ll be brilliant!”
His eyes widened, a smile forming. “On it, boss.”
She laughed as he produced more of his little curls of combustive paper from his waistcoat and traipsed out onto the stage alongside Tybalt for their secondary bow. He whisperedsomething to Lem, shook his hand, and turned smiling toward the audience.
When they both ignited a series of popping sparks, the audience’s roar rose to deafening, several audience members coming to their feet in approval.
Libba grinned.
She was warm inside.
Very warm.
Maybe opening night wasn’t so bad.
She watched the rest take their bows. Nurse and Benvolio. The parents Capulet and Montague. The ensemble.
And then they gestured for her, her troupe stepping back and beckoning her onto the stage.
She took a breath and straightened her shoulders, walking out into the light with her breath held. She turned, her hands clasped in front of her, and bowed very low, unable to fight the broad smile on her mouth.
She stood and waved, giving another little bow to the Starling box, and a nod of acknowledgement to the Templeton-Raths, on the opposing side.
Her eyes fell to the front of the stage, where her father was being led forward to extend a bouquet of roses up, his arm reaching toward her, with Jasper at his side, guiding him.
And she wondered, as she accepted the flowers, if she would ever feel quite so complete ever again.
*
The crowd dispersedquickly, as they often did once a show was over.
Libba descended into the lobby to shake hands and thank people for attending, to answer questions about what showwould come next, and to simply enjoy the kinetic warmth that her people had created here in the chilly autumn night.
Lem and Rhys were receiving a bevy of attention from women near the stairs. Garret would likely have been included happily, if his eyes were not on the gentlemen instead, who were just as happy to attend to him and his Carmelite Juliet closer to the stage.
She only saw the Templeton-Raths once, from a distance, after coming down. They had made haste to depart, she assumed.
That was fair.
“Oh, you were brilliant,” Ruby was gushing to Rhys from his gaggle of admirers. “Absolutely grand. You made Seph cry!”
“Did I?” Rhys replied, looking chuffed about it. “At long last?”
Libba chuckled and moved through the crowd in search of Ulysses, the flowers held tightly to her chest.
She found him with Jasper, who brightened like a beeswax taper when he saw her.
“We’re going to the Cauldron after this,” she said to both men. “Are you coming?”
“Of course,” said Jasper, grinning. “Two-pint rule.”
“Two-pint rule,” she agreed. “Faither?”
