Read Like a Wisp of Steam for Free Online Page A

what he hadn't given Corr.
    She hesitantly took the letter, held it in both hands by the edges. "I don't know if I can do this at all, anymore." There were no tears, but her voice nearly cracked.
    What could he tell her? Quit, don't quit? Stay true to yourself, learn to adapt? Follow your dream, be realistic? All he could say was, "Things change, Miss Alwyx."
    "You mean I'll change or the Commedia will change?"
    "Either. Both, maybe."
    "Thank you," she said, almost a whisper, and turned away.
    At the door, she stopped and looked over her broad shoulder.
    "What about you?"
    He smiled the brave, pained, hoping-against-hope smile of the Innocent. "The show must go on."
    * * * *
    Ricar took his seat in the third row of the tiny theatre just as the curtain rose, showing a cozy front room in a bourgeois home. He didn't care much for the theatre, finding it dull compared to the energy and glamour of the Commedia, but this play he had to see.
    Miss Alwyx entered. As the wife, Naro, she bustled about her home, decorating the Midwinter tree, wrapping gifts for her children, and childishly snacking on treats.
    He had seen her name on the handbill promoting the play, considered attending, then decided against it. But before long, everybody from Davis to the stagehands were talking about the scandalous new play. Eventually Chel told him, "It's been a year. Go see her."
    As the other characters entered and the plot unfolded, Ricar found the story was so familiar—the cozy household, the threat of blackmail, the missing documents—that he wondered what the fuss was about.
    In the second act, Naro's husband gave her a present: an Innocent's blue and white dress, for her to wear to a party.
    Later, Naro offered to play any role her husband wanted—the Innocent, the Pet, the Harlot, even the Fatale—if he would let her blackmailer keep his job at her husband's bank. Yet the man dismissed her pleadings as childish whims.
    In the third act, the husband and wife returned home from the party, dressed as the Prince and the Innocent. The incriminating letter finally came to light, and Vartold turned on Naro, calling her a liar and a thief, even though she had forged his signature to save his life. Ricar had seen, and played, the Prince menacing the Innocent hundreds of times before, but to see a man berating his wife like a common criminal had an impact he didn't expect at all.
    At the last moment, the threat of blackmail was removed, leaving Vartold's position secure. Ricar relaxed. Vartold would forgive Naro, and their marriage would only be strengthened.
    Instead—and this is when the grumblings from the audience began in earnest—Naro turned away from him. She left the room, then entered again, in her traveling clothes, and left the Innocent's dress hung over the back of a chair.
    She seemed to tower over her husband, even without her height, as she told him that their marriage was founded on lies, that she could not be a good wife and mother, and that she would leave and search to find herself.
    The last moment was the door slamming as Naro left her house and her husband. As the curtain fell, Ricar felt frozen to his chair, one hand clasped over his mouth. It was astonishing, yet made perfect sense.
    The applause was scattered and mixed with grumblings and loud hissing. Ricar clapped the loudest and longest.
    As the audience got up, Ricar hurried through the lobby—
    passing a man haranguing a group of listeners, "...Not only nonsense but obscene nonsense. I'd rather my own daughters were lying dead in a ditch than they should see that!"—and made his way around the theatre to the stage door.
    He waited there until the door creaked open, and Miss Alwyx peered out cautiously. He politely doffed his top hat to her and bowed. "Your admirer, Miss Alwyx."
    She blinked in surprise, then emerged from the door.
    "Mister Donal, I didn't expect you here. We've had some problems with harassment after shows."
    They exchanged a few pleasantries, and