Setting aside the cheerful visitors who came to see their children or siblings, some influential nobles also made their way to the academy for a different reason. They wanted to create ties with prominent figures like Mikhail or Ekaterina.
A script and songs written by Ekaterina were sure to attract attention, as would Olga and Renato thanks to their affiliation with the God of Music. But the one thing everyone was truly waiting for was Ekaterina’s appearance on the stage, and yet...
Most of her classmates had the same gripe: She simply won’t agree!
Ekaterina, however, didn’t have a clue.
“So, no one has any objections...right? Thank you for accepting my ideas,” she said. Realizing she’d been a little too insistent while confirming the plan with everyone, she cleared her throat before moving on. “W-Well, in that case, let us begin preparations. First, I’d like to ask those in charge of copying to please prepare enough copies of the script for everyone. Your handwriting is outstanding, so I have no doubt that everyone will be able to read it.”
There were no photocopiers or printers in this world. While the printing press did exist, its costs and logistics made it impractical for a school play. The script would be reproduced by hand instead.
It was a tedious task, but everyone looked at the chosen copyists with envy. Why, you might ask? For one very good reason: Ekaterina had offered to lend them glass pens.
They were clear trial pens without colors or embellishments, but glass pens were still coveted objects that only Ekaterina, Flora, and Mikhail—the top three students of their year—had access to. Though she’d offered to “lend” them, Ekaterina had added that the copyists could keep the pens if they liked them. In effect, she was giving them away.
The students had no way of knowing this, but Ekaterina actually had tons of clear glass pens made by the artisans in her workshop for practice.
Glass could be melted and reused easily, so the artisans typically took advantage of that for practice, but Ekaterina had instructed them to set some pens aside for research. Her reasoning was that by having people write with differently shaped pens, they could see which ones were easier to use and what issues arose. She intended to use the copyist team for feedback.
She had already given glass pens to Novak, Halil, Aaron, and the rest of Alexei’s advisors. Thinking it’d be a bit mean to ask them for feedback, she’d simply picked designs she thought they’d like and gifted the pens with little ribbons tied around them. It was meant as a thank-you for everything they did for the House of Yulnova. Naturally, everyone had been pleasantly surprised.
“Next, for the costumes,” Ekaterina continued. “I hope the team in charge can start as soon as possible.”
At her words, those chosen for their sewing talents nodded.
In the empire, skill in needlework was a prized virtue for women, regardless of rank. It was common for noble ladies to sew everyday clothes for their families. The practice of buying mostly ready-made clothes, like Ekaterina was used to, was a relatively recent development even in her past world. It’d only become widespread after World War II. Before that, people either ordered tailor-made garments, sewed them at home, or bought them secondhand.
Displaying their sewing skills so publicly would no doubt improve the marriage prospects of those Ekaterina had selected. The young ladies were burning with passion at this rare chance to showcase their talents.
“I trust those in charge of the backgrounds will use their excellent painting skills to produce beautiful scenery. Rocky mountains and ominous forests may be hard to visualize, so I’ll show you the preliminary drawings I made to help you. I’d greatly appreciate it if you could paint small versions first for approval.”
After a pause, Ekaterina turned to another group. “Those in charge of the props are all quite adroit, so I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just remember that the play is set during the era of the ancient Astra Empire. That said, the props do not necessarily need to be historically accurate—they’re from a mysterious, imaginary land. I drew simple illustrations of the weapons the characters use, so please refer to them.”
Ekaterina was rather good at drawing. It had been a favorite pastime of her mother, Anastasia, who had started teaching Ekaterina when she was very young. On top of that, Ekaterina had been close to a girl who loved to draw in her previous life, and she’d taught her the basics as well.
Ekaterina never would have guessed those lessons would come in handy in her next life. She chuckled to herself before adding, “I’ll explain the gist of the story once again so that everyone has it in mind.”
During the festival, plays were usually performed in the auditorium.
Of course, that meant that no single class could monopolize it for the entire day. Each class was given a time slot during which they set up, performed, and dismantled the backgrounds and such. Apparently, several classes failed to take the time for setup and cleanup into account every year, and delays were common.
One of the reasons I’d assigned so many people to backgrounds and props was to ensure we had enough people to set up and tear down everything on the day of the performance. As a former systems engineer, I knew every task had to be properly integrated into the timetable to stay on schedule.
My corporate drone blood is boiling!
After striking a triumphant pose in my mind, I (mentally) slapped myself on the head. I’d literally died of overwork, so what was I doing celebrating my past?!
Anyway, because of the time limit, most performances were either simple original plays or acts from famous ones.
The one who’d warned us about all this was Nikolai. He was in his final year and very sociable, so he was well-informed.
“You’re doing a musical?! What were you guys thinking?” he’d asked Marina, playfully knuckling her scalp again.
Then, he’d told us about past performances. “You’ll run out of time in a heartbeat if you sing every other scene. You know, every year, some classes have no choice but to start dismantling while the play is still going!”
Just picturing it had me on the verge of laughter.
“But, brother, our class has Lady Olga, Lord Selesar, and Lady Ekaterina! We can’t not do music!” Marina had argued.
“That’s exactly why Lady Ekaterina suggested a choir! Why did you have to overrule that and insist on a play?!”
A very fair argument, if I daresay so myself!
At the time, everyone had been hell-bent on having me act the lead in a play. Marina had simply gone along with the consensus, so I’d felt a little bad watching her get scolded as if it were entirely her fault.
Still, while Nikolai’s concerns were valid, this was an original play, which meant I could write it however I wanted. I’d kept it short and straightforward, and although we called it a musical, I’d only included a few songs.
I explained all that to my classmates and told them the time restrictions had forced me to structure it that way. Then, I went over the plot.
The main character was Anemoni the traveling saint. She was best known for healing countless people during epidemics and was sometimes referred to as the Holy Mother for the many orphans she’d raised. However, she wasn’t just a gentle and affectionate savior; records also recounted her fierce bravery. Anemoni subdued brigands and punished corrupt officials who cared more about lining their pockets than helping their people. The story I’d written focused more on that second side of her.
As I’d mentioned before, Anemoni was famous under several different names, including Estelle. I chose the name Anemoni—a flower—because Flora would be playing her.
In my play, Anemoni traveled the remote areas of the ancient Astra Empire with only one companion. Exhausted, the pair stopped to rest by a spring, but a man calling himself a hunter appeared and tried to chase them away. The saint’s companion shot him down, prompting the man to reveal his true nature. Unleashing his power as a water demon, he challenged them again. In response, Anemoni’s companion revealed her identity as a demonic monkey and beat him up.