"Why are you suddenly inserting yourself into this?"
I had a guess. He must have regretted his previous behavior during his half-hearted hospital visit, and now he wanted to soothe his guilt by investing even five minutes of his time into me.
Of course, I’d rather pass on this gesture.
‘You being there means I can’t openly express my thoughts.’
Things like which actor looked handsome, or how that arrogant prince character was just like someone I knew!
“Your Highness, are you interested in theater?”
“...A little.”
No, he wasn’t. Not even 0.5%. I was certain.
He added, “It can’t hurt to learn about the capital’s popular arts.”
“Speaking of popular arts, I should mention that the theater I’m heading to doesn’t have box seats. Even the best spots are going to be noisy. Are you sure you’re fine with that?”
“As long as I’m not sitting on the bare floor, I don’t mind.”
“The content might be a little crude.”
“Even the most revered ancient tragedies are filled with themes like infidelity, murder, and illegitimate children. I won’t be shocked by anything of the sort.”
“Still...”
“If you can’t think of more excuses, I’ll go prepare myself. See you at the first floor later.”
And just like that, Tristan tacked himself onto my plans, striding down the hallway with firm steps. Only after he disappeared from view did I think of the perfect excuse.
Damn it. I should’ve lied and said I was going with my sister!
When you hang out with friends, there’s always that one scenario.
You agree to meet up with your group of friends, but then, without any warning, one of them brings along their boyfriend.
And if the boyfriend isn’t even close to the group—if he’s older, in a completely different line of work, or has no shared interests—it’s just one long, awkward experience. You start thinking you’d rather not make plans with that friend again. Even if the guy offers to pay for dinner, it’s a hard no.
Haha...
...I swear, I didn’t want this to happen!
“Miss... Who is this...?”
The maid’s pupils trembled violently. Even though Tristan had changed into relatively simple attire, it was impossible for the maid not to recognize “the tall and insufferable man suddenly accompanying her lady.”
Tristan spoke calmly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
That’s the kind of line only people who make others worry could deliver.
I stepped in to explain.
“His Highness wanted to join us for the play. ...Don’t worry about it.”
But in the end, I couldn’t think of anything else to say either.
The maid, wearing a face that screamed she couldn’t not worry, walked with us toward the theater district.
The play we were going to see was quite popular. I was hoping that by the time we arrived, the tickets would be sold out, forcing Tristan to go home.
Unfortunately, a few tickets in the corner seats were still available. Tristan held up the tickets and asked, “Doris. Where are your seats?”
“Ah, we’re at G-10 and G-11.”
“The center, then. I see.”
The maid and I spoke at the same time.
“Shall we switch with you?”
We stared at each other in disbelief. What were we offering to switch for? Please, just stop! Obviously, as his fiancée, it was appropriate for me to sit next to him, but still!
Tristan waved it off, saying it wasn’t necessary, and left to find his seat.
Five minutes later.
“...You’ve secured a seat right next to me.”
“There are very few seats I can’t secure. Especially when they’re just physical spaces.”
If you can’t secure a good seat, perhaps you lack enough money.
Tristan had even bought out the seats behind him when some patrons grumbled about his height. The patrons, satisfied with their gold coins, quietly disappeared.
Once Tristan settled into his seat, the lights dimmed, and the play began.
The story went like this:
In a small restaurant frequented by regulars, a handsome stranger started visiting. The regulars, curious about him, speculated wildly. Some thought he was a prince traveling in disguise; others suspected he was a fugitive from another city.
Meanwhile, the protagonist, one of the regulars, realized that the waitress he had a crush on was showing interest in the handsome stranger. Determined, he began investigating the stranger’s identity...
The play was a lighthearted comedy that ended cleanly.
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‘It was pretty entertaining.’
The handsome stranger turned out to be a rookie actor practicing his lines. By responding differently—sometimes aristocratically, sometimes like a thug—he had led the regulars to draw different conclusions despite giving the same answers.
The direction was clever too.
‘We could use this idea.’
After the play, the maid and I naturally headed to a nearby tea house. I had so much to say about the play!
However, once the teapot was set down, the maid remained unusually quiet.
“Um...”
“Speak freely. What did you think of the play?”
“Well...”
Her eyes were practically shouting, How can I speak freely?
Of course. Sharing our tea time was the ultimate third wheel, His Highness Tristan.
Honestly, even I felt uncomfortable!
But I was determined not to show it.
‘He’s the one who suddenly inserted himself into our plans.’
Why should we feel uneasy because of this clueless man?
I decided to lead by example.
“I really enjoyed it. Although, I found it irritating that the protagonist thought it was natural to be smitten by the heroine’s looks, but lectured her about judging the handsome stranger by his face.”
The maid’s eyes widened as she stole a glance at Tristan.
What? Why?
I continued.
“And that middle-aged noble who appeared at the end to lecture everyone was annoying. Did they have to give those lines to a minor character? It just made it seem like a noble scolding commoners.”
“Ah... I agree, Miss. That role would’ve been better if someone else played it.”
The maid, gaining confidence, added a good idea of her own.
“The restaurant owner, who quietly watched the customers speculate about the stranger, could’ve delivered the final remarks. That would’ve been more fun.”
“Exactly! I thought the same. It’s as if the writer assumed a character delivering wisdom must have social status to back it up. The restaurant owner’s character felt wasted.”
“But the actor playing the handsome stranger was great. His performance was good, and, well... he was just so handsome.”
The maid’s eyes sparkled, genuine happiness radiating from her.
I wanted to agree. He was handsome. That’s all I had to say. It would’ve been polite to respond.
But...
Can I say that in front of my fiancé?
Of course, I can! Why not? He’s the one who said, “Don’t worry about me.”
And yet, my lips wouldn’t move. While I hesitated, Tristan spoke first.
“Speaking of that, the story’s evaluation of the heroine’s behavior was somewhat hard to understand.”
Caught off guard by his unexpected response, the maid froze. I stepped in.
“What part are you referring to?”
“The heroine first took an interest in the stranger because of his good looks and then began to be drawn to him under the mistaken belief that he was a wealthy merchant. But why does the story depict her behavior negatively?”
Well, because... that’s just how fiction works?
Of course, Tristan probably already knew that.
“The writer was likely pressured to adhere to universal values. But presenting the lesson as ‘he wasn’t actually rich’ feels too simplistic, doesn’t it?”
“That’s true.”
“Looks and wealth are valid traits to be attracted to. Why try so hard to negate them as part of the lesson?”
Was he projecting onto the handsome stranger?
How annoying!
...Though, I could kind of see his point.
“I agree. Since the male lead was also drawn to the heroine’s looks, dismissing the value of appearances seemed contradictory. The fact that they undermined the stranger’s supposed wealth to deliver the lesson just felt petty.”
“Exactly. And if the male lead had some trait to counterbalance his lack of wealth or looks, it should’ve been revealed earlier. For instance... saving the heroine’s mother and leaving an everlasting memory by dying in the process.”
“He can’t die!”
“Well, it would’ve been unforgettable.”
“But he’s the protagonist. He has to survive!”
How did the conversation derail into this nonsense?
While I was starting to feel my brain melt, the maid tentatively interjected.
“I think I understand why the heroine ultimately chose the plain-looking male lead.”
Tristan immediately turned to her.