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Blue Flame – Part 03

Meanwhile, at the Phantom Theater.

“Hmm, so this is how this costume is cut. Very enlightening!”

On the side stage of the first floor, Inspector Blois was crouched down, marveling at the dress of a young actress, pulling its hem, flipping it.

The actress didn’t pay him any heed; she was busy reading the script on her hand for the rehearsal.

Sitting regally on a crude wooden chair, Victorique watched him eerily. She was wearing a luxurious red-and-white dress and on her head a pink mini-hat that looked like a rosebud. Her golden hair hung down to the floor, coiled like a heavenly serpent. Her fingers held a small ceramic pipe, and on her lap, like a living, mysterious ornament sat a white dove, eyes closed and resting its wings.

Her tiny, beautiful face, like a rare exotic gem, scrunched up. “He seems more degenerate than usual today. What is he even doing?”

“Shut up, Victorique. Hmm, yes. The lace is sewn on temporarily from the back. Looks like it would come off easily. Why is that?”

“Grevil. My Wellspring of Wisdom can provide you the answer.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s so when they perform in a different play, all they have to do is remove the laces, and they can recycle costumes. At first glance their costumes look glamorous, but they are, in fact, made of cheap and durable fabrics. I believe they are only adorned with expensive things, such as lace, pearls, decorative glass, to make them appear luxurious under the light. The cheap dresses are expendable, while the ornaments are genuine.”

“Stop using your precious Wellspring of Wisdom for such trivial matters,” Inspector Blois huffed. “Oh, crap.”

Slowly, he turned with a horrified look on his face. His sister’s emotionless eyes were staring at him.

“Stop glaring at me! It’s scary! I was just messing with you. Why do you look like you want to kill me?!”

“Why are you so interested in the dress?”

“Uh, well…”

“I already know the answer. You’re probably planning to make costumes for the dolls displayed in your office. What a creep.”

“Can you stop analyzing every single thing out there?! Cursed wolf! Darn it. Whatever.”

Inspector Blois stood up. He was still holding the bottom of the dress, so it flipped up, revealing the actress’s long, seductive legs and black lace garter belt. Reciting her lines, the actress kicked Inspector Blois with the heel of her shoe.

The inspector jumped, and for a while he remained silent, in pain.

The stage was brightly lit. The huge prop for the royal palace had already been assembled, and the place was filled with a glamorous atmosphere. The side stage, in contrast, was dim and dusty. Crude desks made from leftover wood and wooden chairs that looked like they had been there for decades squeaked when touched or sat upon. It was like looking at the light and the shadows of the people who had chosen the glamorous yet somehow horrifying job of being a stage actor.

Actors in their costumes were gathered at the wings. Some were doing exercises, some were checking their lines alone, and others were reading the same scene together. The tension of the first day, the pressure, their undying longing for the stage, all merged in the air, affecting each other. It was difficult to tell which emotions belonged to whom.

At the wings of the bright stage, in the shadows right next to the light, two young actresses were doing warm-up exercises together. They were holding hands, pushing and pulling.

When he saw them, Inspector Blois told Victorique, “That’s the young actress playing the role of Coco Rose.”

“Which one?” Victorique asked wearily.

“Both of them.”

“Can you explain further?”

“The Queen will be played by two people.”

Victorique closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was a blazing, icy fire in their depths, which Inspector Blois failed to notice.

“When we arrived at the theater, there was a press conference going on at the entrance,” he said. “I asked some questions too, until I got pushed away by the butts of those mean journalists. You should’ve seen their teamwork. It was amazing. The men had all kinds of butts—skinny, plump, hard, and soft like chiffon cakes. I was sent flying like a beach volleyball, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the pavement. Those punks!”

“It should serve as a good lesson for you.”

“Wh-Who the hell do you think you are?!” He shot Victorique a hateful glare. “You bossy, sharp, tiny, and absolutely terrifying little…” He quickly gathered himself. “Let’s go back to the press conference that was so graciously interrupted by the butts of those journalists.” He sounded eager this time. “What now, stupid journalists? Can’t get inside, huh?”

“I will join them.”

“What?!”

Inspector Blois turned around with a frown. But by that time, Victorique had already risen from the shabby wooden chair. She trotted across the side stage to the actresses.

“You there,” she called.

Startled, they both looked down.

“So cute!”

“Where’d this little girl come from? She looks like a doll! How old are you, little lady?”

“A hundred and fourteen.”

Inspector Blois was worried at first, but then he sighed in resignation. He followed Victorique to the wall where the actresses were.

---

“Yup. We’re playing the same character.”

“I play the old Queen Coco.”

The actresses did look very similar. They both had small, round faces and lovely blue eyes. They were more pretty than beautiful. Although they were already adults, they still had the air of young girls. There was a lonely, delicate, yet mischievous glint in their eyes.

Their long hairs were a dazzling gold, but a closer examination revealed brown hair near the roots of the other’s head. She had apparently dyed her hair for the play.

The actress with the dyed hair was wearing a soft chiffon blue dress that showed ample amount of cleavage. She let her hair hang down naturally.

The other was dressed in a ceremonial blue dress with puffy square sleeves and laces that covered her whole neck. Her outfit was the trend over twenty years ago. Her hair was also tied high in an old-fashioned style, the Queen Coco style that the people of Saubreme were used to seeing in photographs and other media. It came from France, apparently. In those days, young girls all over Saubreme dyed their hair gold and tied it high, imitating Queen Coco. But that was all in the past now.

The actress with the old-fashioned hairstyle pointed first at herself, then at the other woman.

“She’s going to play the Queen Coco after she moved to the country house. That is, from the year 1900 onwards.”

“The queen changed so much after being consumed by grief. To depict that, they wanted to use a different actress. Very innovative, huh? Ah, the goosebumps!”

“Yeah. We’ve been practicing together for a long time, trying to appear like the same person, so now we’re really good friends.”

“Yeah!”

The women giggled.

Was it the result of their training, or were they similar from the beginning? Even the way they laughed was almost identical, like they were mirror images of the other.

Victorique looked up at the actresses. “Did you have a hard time preparing for the role?”

“Yup. Some parts we had to act similarly.”

“And there were some changes between Queen Coco in the palace and Queen Coco in the country house. We had to consult others.”

“We even asked people who knew the queen.”

“I see. Such as?” Victorique asked.

“Let’s see…”

Queen Coco of the royal palace was more likely to pose with her right hand on her cheek, her left arm level, and her right elbow on the back of her left hand.

The women remained silent for a while. Victorique glanced up.

“The photographs!” Inspector Blois interrupted.

“Yup.” The actress nodded.

“Exactly!”

“What are you talking about?” Victorique asked.

“You’re just a child,” the inspector said, “and you don’t go out to town, so you might not be aware of it.”

“It’s not that I don’t go out. I can’t go out.”

Inspector Blois choked, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, all the photos of Queen Coco that were sold right after her marriage all had the same pose. A habit of hers apparently. But she didn’t look cranky or anything like that. She had this melancholic expression like she was talking to a little bird by the window. She looked so pretty!”

“It sounds gross coming from you.”

Inspector Blois went quiet and glared at his sister’s head with moist eyes.

“As soon as you strike that pose,” he addressed one of the actresses, “you transform into the Queen Coco everyone knew. Wonderful!”

“And as for me…”

The queen living in the country house struck the same pose, except her head was tilted dejectedly, her left arm was limp, and there was no light in her eyes, as if she were already dead. She stayed still for several moments. Then she turned her head, and immediately the light returned to her eyes.