After Happily Ever Afte- Astrid Ohletz Page 0,2

the center aisle, Victoria lingered a moment before taking her seat. Her hosts were chattering quietly over the program that Mrs. Hamman held in her lap. Victoria felt the curious glances coming her way, knowing she was still a familiar face with all the coverage in the European press that had dogged her first season in Paris. A tap on her shoulder interrupted the rising nerves that had the champagne churning in her stomach.

“Vicky. You came all this way to cheer for me?”

Victoria turned to find Irina looming over her, dressed to kill in a navy-blue pantsuit, dark silky lapels offsetting the distinct lack of anything worn beneath the jacket. Diamonds trailing in a tasteful cascade from the bottom of her throat, shimmering raindrops that caught the light from every angle.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Victoria replied without any particular confirmation. “You’re watching from the house?”

“We can’t all prowl the wings like a caged tiger. Did you tell her you’re here?”

Victoria considered feigning ignorance for a moment, but she was painfully aware of how much time Anna had spent with her new artistic director, and the matching flash of a diamond on Irina’s ring finger confirmed that she had made things official with Anna’s sister, Jess. Life in New York had certainly been continuing apace without Victoria, and the thought gave her a fresh pang of homesickness. “No. No first-night distractions. She’ll see me when the lights come up; that’s enough.”

“Hmm, just a few nights here, and then we’re off to Beijing,” Irina said, almost letting a smile break across her stern features. “Biggest tour in ten years, you heard?”

“Of course. I never was a great fan of touring.”

“It is good to see you. You should look out for your wedding invitation. Jess will want her best woman to have a date, yes? And call me sometime. I would like to compare notes.”

“I think you’re starting,” Victoria answered, and they grasped each other by the forearms, exchanging two air kisses near each cheek. Sure enough, the lights went down, and Victoria slipped into her seat with a smile for the Hammans. She’d already declined their offer of a late supper and an invitation to stay at their grand apartment in the center of the city. A hotel room granted far more freedom, and with luck, Victoria would have a guest to make the queen-sized bed a little less lonely.

Tchaikovsky’s first mournful notes were as familiar to Victoria as her own heartbeat, but she’d barely taken in the conductor with her slicked-back red hair that skimmed the collar of her tuxedo jacket when the heavy damask curtains rose. Interesting. Irina had gone with the additional prologue of discovering how dear Odette became a swan in the first place. Most productions still opened on the waltz, a huge party scene for Prince Siegfried.

Then the spotlight fell on Anna, a vision in white. Any care about the plot or the staging dissolved at the sight of her. It took considerable resolve for Victoria to remain in her seat. Every sinew was straining to reach out somehow, to touch Anna at her most untouchable.

Her technique was flawless, but Victoria expected no less. The audience seemed enraptured by the vision of sweetness, bordering on innocence. Victoria smirked at her very private knowledge of how Anna could be anything but. The simple white silk of her dress hid lines and curves, but there was no disguising those long legs or those toned arms that could lift as readily as any male dancer thanks to Victoria’s careful training.

Despite her jaded views, despite her hyperfocus on Anna herself instead of the character, Victoria still found herself stifling a gasp as the evil Rothbart transformed the innocent into a swan, cursing her to be found that way by the prince in the second act. With a series of pirouettes and some almost invisible stagecraft, the dress seemed to disintegrate in mid-air, revealing the risqué slashes of leather from the posters. Another spin and the simple braids of Anna’s blonde hair were twisted up in an elaborate headdress that gave the faint impression of feathers.

Their swan.

As the scene gave way to the raucous waltzes of the first act, Victoria settled back in her seat, the last of the tension finally easing from her shoulders. She would watch the rest of the ballet through fresh eyes and hope for a happy reunion as soon as the curtain fell for the final time.

Anna reveled in her early solo, knowing it framed the story firmly