I thought nothing when M. Reyer took my hand after the curtains had closed the final time; the sudden change from the brightness of the limelight to the darkness backstage made it easy for any performer to be nearly blind, and I took it as a kind gesture to lead me safely through the crowd of ballerinas and stagehands. What surprised me, though, was the brief but warm kiss he pressed to my knuckles. He was such an irritable, straight-laced man usually, and this display of approval was unexpected to say the least. He kept a hold of my hand as he guided me to my dressing room, chattering on about how well I had done and what I could do to improve for my next performance.
My next performance…
I knew it was a fluke that I had even gone on this evening, so to think that he wanted me to sing Elissa again gave me a thrill. I smiled brightly at him as we reached my door, reluctant to see him leave for I doubted he would still be in this mood tomorrow morning. Before I knew it I felt the bristles of his mustache against my fingers once more and I lowered my eyelashes shyly at the feel of the warm blush that crept across my cheeks.