Chapter 09

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t the actors’ performances that captured everyone’s attention at first.

It was their looks.

A crowd of young, vigorous men filled the stage.

Several of them were even shirtless.

Their sharply defined muscles flexed as if they’d just finished training, sweat glistening across their skin.

But above all else, every single one of them was strikingly handsome.

“Ugh…!”

I can’t let even the tiniest sound slip out.

The dutiful daughter, Elise, clamped a hand over her mouth.

At that moment, she completely forgot that this was supposed to be a play.

More accurately, so did almost everyone in the audience.

No one gathered here had ever seen lighting like this before—or such handsome, energetic young actors. They became so captivated that they forgot the very reason they’d come: to judge the play Luisa had produced.

At least…

For a moment.

It was only a moment.

Soon, one of the audience members who had been speaking disdainfully about Luisa earlier muttered,

“As expected. Those are exactly the kind of men Luisa would pick.”

Even as she heard those words, Elise couldn’t tear her eyes away from the actors onstage.

She didn’t want to miss a single line they spoke.

“Montague.”

“Capulet.”

“Those idiots.”

“Fools.”

Something felt… strange.

This wasn’t the kind of play she knew.

Of course, she hadn’t seen many plays.

The ones she knew were the sort performed in the backyards of inns for commoners.

Among those traveling actors, some were quite famous.

They always looked directly at the audience, projected their voices dramatically, and emphasized every word.

Just like the bard who had appeared earlier.

But these young actors only spoke to each other.

They looked into one another’s eyes instead.

Occasionally they glanced toward the audience, but even then they spoke in calm, natural voices, just as ordinary people would during a conversation.

And yet…

Everyone could hear them perfectly.

That somehow made it even stranger.

It felt less like watching a performance and more like secretly eavesdropping on a group of handsome young men chatting outside your own home.

The voyeuristic realism drew her in deeper and deeper.

“So this is the young lady’s taste in men!”

Someone in the back made another unnecessary remark.

Elise’s temper flared.

While she silently composed a string of curses in her mind, another woman—who had clearly been thinking the exact same thing—shouted,

“Would you please be quiet? You’re ruining the performance!”

“It’s just a play! What’s so special that everyone has to shut up?”

The moment someone yelled that—

The two groups of young men onstage, the red-clad Capulets and the blue-clad Montagues, drew their swords as though they were about to clash.

Benvolio Montague, with his gentle face, stepped between them to stop the fight.

Then—

“It’s the Capulets! Tybalt’s here!”

Someone shouted from the stage.

At the same time, a man dressed in the crimson colors of House Capulet strode onto the stage, leading the other Capulets behind him.

His sharply upturned eyes and long, thin lips radiated danger and irresistible allure.

Tybalt Capulet.

A man whose every movement exuded arrogant confidence.

“…!”

A crimson spotlight swept across him.

Red.

The color of the Capulets.

The audience instantly fell silent.

No one joked about Luisa’s taste in men anymore.

To be fair, calling Tybalt simply handsome felt… inaccurate.

He was handsome.

Just not in the breathtaking way that made people lose themselves.

In fact, some of the extras around him could arguably have been more conventionally attractive.

Yet somehow…

He pulled every eye toward him.

Dressed in red, wearing that proud expression, he looked unmistakably like a central character.

Even the crimson light itself seemed to declare it.

Bathed in scarlet, Tybalt drew his sword and challenged the Montagues in a haughty voice.

“Cowardly Benvolio. Draw your sword.”

A duel erupted between Benvolio and Tybalt.

A real duel.

Not the exaggerated, dance-like choreography Elise had seen in tavern performances.

Every strike aimed for ribs.

For throats.

Is… is this really acting?

For one brief moment, Elise seriously wondered whether she ought to jump onto the stage and rescue the actors.

Especially Benvolio.

For some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Even the audience member who had shouted, “It’s just a play!” earlier muttered nervously,

“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t someone stop them?”

The audience whispered anxiously, but the play continued.

Fortunately, all the actors emerged unharmed.

Moments later, the ruler of the region entered and brought the young men’s fight to an end.

People were beginning to forget this was merely a performance.

“If anyone draws a sword again within Verona, they shall be executed immediately.”

After the actor delivered the stern proclamation and exited, the tension finally eased.

Relieved sighs echoed throughout the theater.

“…Whew.”

The relief, however, didn’t last long.

Another actor appeared.

He entered from the edge of the stage, wearing the expression of someone completely uninterested in the commotion that had just unfolded.

He leaned lazily against a market stall, slightly slouched.

That alone was enough.

Every eye turned toward him.

Unlike the other actors, his hair hung loosely around his shoulders.

Even standing perfectly still, his rebellious air was unmistakable.

This… this is on an entirely different level.

Elise realized something.

Everything she’d thought earlier about the other actors being handsome…

Had been a lie.

If the word “beauty” became a human being… wouldn’t it look exactly like this?

This time, she couldn’t suppress the involuntary sound escaping her lips.

“…Ah.”

It didn’t matter whether her father was sitting beside her or not.

She couldn’t help herself.

She heard him click his tongue in obvious disapproval.

She didn’t even glance his way.

Her attention remained fixed on only one thing.

This man…

Was Romeo.

The heir of House Montague.

A man too detached to involve himself in foolish fights.

A face sculpted like marble, yet carrying an unmistakable streak of rebellion.

“Is it still early morning…?”

Romeo murmured softly.

As though immersed in a world entirely his own, he slowly lifted his head.

In that instant…

Everyone forgot to breathe.

* * *

The audience’s reaction is even stronger than I expected.

Watching from backstage, I couldn’t hide my surprise.

Several audience members had nearly rushed onto the stage during the sword fight.

And when Romeo appeared…

A few women had genuinely moaned aloud.

I forgot for a second.

People in this world had never seen acting like this before.

Nor lighting like this.

I’m the first person in this world to stage a production using spotlights.

Finding the equipment hadn’t been easy.

I had to make everything myself.

The lights we used today were powered by luminous ore.

Ore.

A mysterious stone that naturally emitted light in a world without electricity.

The problem was that hardly anyone sold it.

It was a rare mineral mined from ancient caverns, expensive enough that ordinary households relied almost exclusively on candles.

It simply wasn’t practical.

Still…

I knew one place that stocked it.

“You want to buy luminous ore? From me? Instead of one of your usual weird inventions?”

Rudy’s Night Tavern.

Hidden beneath it was an underground auction hall with no windows.

Candles couldn’t be used there—people would suffocate.

So they relied on glowing ore instead.

Rudy had looked thoroughly unimpressed when I asked to buy some.

Compared to the other merchandise he dealt in, glowing ore was cheap.

Naturally, it didn’t interest him.

“Good. Then go to the blacksmith you always use for my strange little projects and have him make me a black metal tube. Put glass on the front—round glass, like this. Make two more with colored glass. One red. One blue.”

A blacksmith.

Even saying it out loud felt surreal.

Back in Korea, I could’ve bought stage lights in Cheonggyecheon without thinking twice.

A light source enclosed in a blackout housing, with a lens focusing the beam.

A spotlight.

A baby spotlight.

In other words…

Theatrical lighting.

Something this backward era simply didn’t possess.

The spotlight and baby lights I wanted were commonplace in Seoul.

“It’s not about the money. Why should I go through all that trouble? Sounds annoying.”

Rudy sounded utterly uninterested.

Fortunately…

I knew exactly how to motivate him.

“Because I know you got involved with the one woman you absolutely shouldn’t have touched. Should I go tell her husband?”

Rudy was a man with plenty of weaknesses.

Which meant he’d continue to be useful in the future.

“No need! I’ll place the order immediately. Anything else you need?”

“Men. A lot of them. Good-looking ones with great physiques. And a few who seem interested in acting or fame.”

The next step…

Was auditions.

Older actors and roles like the bard could simply be filled by performers already belonging to the troupe.

I didn’t mind if their acting style was theatrical.

The bard, after all, had to deliver Shakespeare’s famous sonnets.

That role required a beautiful actor.

But the younger cast…

That was different.

Their first appearance has to delight the audience’s eyes.

The audience needed to marvel at Luisa Messena’s impeccable taste.

To grumble about it.

To secretly admire it.

And despite themselves…

To be pulled into the performance.

So I filled the background with handsome, athletic men.

But Tybalt.

Benvolio.

Mercutio.

Those three required faces perfectly suited to their roles.

Like Leo Pierre, they could compensate for slightly weaker acting with overwhelming screen presence.

If I hadn’t truly understood Shakespeare’s script…

If I hadn’t possessed a crystal-clear vision for the production…

Casting them would have been far more difficult.

Shakespeare’s plays were so poetic that even in the modern era many directors misunderstood them.

They watched previous reinterpretations, copied them halfway, and failed.

They searched only for actors resembling performers from earlier productions.

But I was different.

I knew exactly what kind of Tybalt…

What kind of Benvolio…

What kind of Mercutio…

I wanted.

Tybalt.

An arrogant Capulet who hated the Montagues more than anyone.

Benvolio.

A gentle “pacifist” who, beneath the surface, possessed the cowardice of refusing to truly take anyone’s side.

Mercutio.

A carefree joker whose heart concealed fear and vulnerability.

I found them.

Then I put them through an intensive acting crash course.

Their performances only reached about eighty percent of what I’d hoped for.

And honestly…

My expectations hadn’t been high to begin with.

Tybalt’s actor had such poor memorization that he stumbled over his lines two or three times.

After watching rehearsals, I’d been convinced the audience would complain.

But instead—

“Tybalt, you jerk! But you’re so handsome!”

The audience cheered.

Of course they did.

They had no standards for evaluating method acting yet.

Rather than noticing the mistakes…

They were too completely immersed to see them.

They’re completely absorbed.

Watching the audience stare at the stage with shining eyes, I clenched my fist.

It worked.

Every single directing choice had landed exactly as I’d intended.

A thrilling surge of exhilaration shot through my body.

Whenever people gasped, laughed, or marveled at the moments I’d carefully crafted…

I felt almost like a god.

With a stage as my weapon…

I could make all these people laugh.

I could make them cry.

That…

Was who I was.

Shin Geurim.

A woman who loved theater more than anyone.

And understood it better than anyone.

“…Nervous?”

Someone whispered behind me.

Leo had slipped backstage for a moment.

He peeked through the curtain toward the audience, clearly amused by how completely absorbed I was.

Even though he’d been terrified himself.

I shook my head.

“No.”

“…?”

“It’s not that.”

I looked quietly at Leo.

“I love this.”

For a brief instant, Leo’s eyes wavered.

An unreadable emotion crossed his face.

But I didn’t have the luxury of paying attention.

It was my cue.

The moment for Luisa Messena’s Juliet to step onto the stage.