Ghost Aria by Jonathan Moeller Page B

score of bodyguards in chain mail surrounded him, and one of them gave Caina a leering glance as she passed. 
    She ignored him and hurried up the aisle, passing Gallus Tomerius’s box. He was a stout, balding man who fortunately had not given his looks to Lucinda. He glared at the stage as if it had insulted him. At the end of the aisle waited a tall, handsome footman in the livery of the Grand Imperial Opera. He favored Caina with a smile. Murdock had tried to seduce her, more than once, but Caina knew he had carved a swathe of romantic conquest through the other maids and several of the singers. 
    “Dear little Marina,” he said in his deep voice. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
    “Lucinda wants a favor,” she said. “Can you send some wine to Tollard?”
    Murdock snorted. “Don’t be absurd. Do I look like a maid? Fetch it yourself, girl.” 
    “The Seneschal will be wroth,” said Caina, “if a maid takes wine to a carpenter…”
    “That,” said Murdock, “is not my problem.” He grinned. “Though if you want to slip into a closet for a few moments, you could persuade…”
    “Oh, for the gods’ sake,” said Caina. “Just say no, and save us both some time.”
    She turned, ignoring Murdock’s laugh, and went back down the stairs. There were still one glass of wine and some sausages left on her tray, and she could slip to the workshop and return before the Seneschal noticed her absence. But only if she hurried. 
    “Here, girl,” said a growling voice. 
    Caina stopped beside Lord Arcus’s box. The guard who had leered at her stepped into the aisle. He was closer to sixty years than fifty, and his chain mail bulged against his paunch. His eyes flicked over her. 
    “You’re a pretty thing,” he rumbled. 
    “Thank you, sir,” said Caina, stepping around him. 
    “Why don’t you stay a while,” said the guard, “and keep me company?”
    “I must go about my duties, sir,” said Caina. He was not in good shape, and if necessary one hard blow to the belly or throat might disable him long enough for Caina to get away. Though injuring a guard in front of the nobles would create a scene.
    “A girl like you shouldn’t spend so much time on her feet,” said the guard. “Come sit with me. I’ll make you feel better.”
    “Excuse me,” said Caina, walking away.
    The guard reached for her, and Caina prepared herself to hit him with the tray, but he only snatched the glass of wine. He took a swig and turned his back on her. Caina rolled her eyes and kept walking.
    “Girl!” 
    She turned and saw the guard staggering into the aisle after her, his face crimson, sweat glistening on his brow. He held the glass of wine in one hand, his other hand clutching his chest. 
    “Girl!” he bellowed, and a dozen nobles and merchants glared at him. “You…you…”
    His eyes bulged, and he fell backwards with a thump. 
    Theodosia kept singing, accompanied by the chorus, and the audience turned their attention back to the stage. Murdock and three of the other footmen hurried forward. A thought struck Caina, and she put down the tray and knelt besides the guard.
    He was dead. She leaned forward and sniffed his mouth.
    “Oh, damn,” she muttered. 
    “Move, girl,” growled Murdock. “Can’t have the nobles tripping over their servants, can we?” 
    Murdock and the footmen carried the guard away. 

    ###

    After the performance, Caina returned to Theodosia’s room. The leading lady of the Grand Imperial Opera wiped away her makeup with a cloth and a bowl of water. 
    “Well,” she said. “How did I sound?”
    “Magnificent,” said Caina. 
    “Of course I was! Did you hear the applause?” said Theodosia. Caina felt relief. Despite her ability to keep a level head in a crisis, Theodosia’s mood veered between elation and despondency once a performance was over. 
    And she needed Theodosia to keep a level head just now.
    “What was that business with you and Lord Arcus’s guards?”