The Price {Completed}

Chapter Six

We received the Crown funding.

The announcement came the day after the performance at the palace with a wiry little lawyer who offered Mr. Lennox a contract. We were now an official company, a real rival to the Rumonin National. Most of all, we now had the money to create new dances. Mr. Lennox immediately retreated into his own mind, mumbling through his ideas and tapping beats with his cane and foot without even realizing.

                With the new funding came a new venue. The king bought us a small theater in the fashionable district, and we moved what little we had from the old schoolhouse as soon as the signature on the deed was dry. The new building seated two hundred, with four private boxes and room for fifty or so to stand by the orchestra pit. Our stage, though not quite as grand as the National's, was spacious and well maintained. A crew to work the rigging and sets were hired, and our first show's tickets sold out weeks in advance.

                Of course, everyone wanted to see the show we danced for the king. So while Mr. Lennox brooded that his new choreography was to be sidelined for a short time while the craze for the Funeral Dance lasted, I could tell he was secretly pleased at the crowd we were drawing.

                The announcement for the grand opening of our new theater, the Crown and Laurel, ran in all the major newspapers. Though the king did not remark on it, General Masha mentioned that he would be attending to a reporter, and that was nearly as good. Hours before our inaugural performance in the new building, ticket holders queued in carriages, and hundreds without tickets tried to bribe their way in. I watched them all from the upstairs room where we held our practices and rehearsals. A pair of white curtains hid me from the street, but I could peek out a crack and through the paned glass. Below me, a mixture of fine dresses and velvet tophats mixed with rough spun skirts and fraying vests. Nobles, rich, poor, and all the rest wanted to see us dance. So different from only a few months ago when we were lucky to even coax in a handful of factory workers.

                Gertrude and the others whispered quietly as they dressed for our final rehearsal, pulling on their improved dresses and helping each other put their hair up in perfect rolls on the top of their heads. I watched them from my window, biting on my lip. Gertrude plucked a stray thread from Rachel's skirt, and Rachel offered some advice on how to jump higher.

                Slowly, I walked over to my station and stepped out of my dress. As I unpinned my hair to refasten it in a more secure style, someone knocked on the door. Gertrude broke from the group to answer it, and I stepped out of my petticoats.

                A murmuring came from over by the door as Gertrude talked to whoever it was, but I was busy tugging a stubborn knot from the laces of my boots to really pay any attention. I only noticed that everyone had gone silent when a finger tapped me on the shoulder.

                Expecting it to be Gertrude, I turned with an irritated look on my face to see Ferdinand standing over me.

                Immediately realizing that I wore only a corset and chemise, I shrieked and he spun to look the other way.

                "What are you doing in here?" I gasped, snatching my dress from the floor and holding it to my chest.

                "Sorry! I didn't know- They said I could come in," he said, the tips of his ears going red. I sent a glare in Gertrude's direction, but she was already studiously pretending that I did not exist.

                "Let me put something on," I said as I fumbled to find the top of my dress.

                "It's all right, I can leave. I just wanted to know if you would come out for a moment with me before we have to start rehearsals."