Chapter 284: My Father Would Listen To Me
"You are Christopher Sloan?"
Seated calmly in the main hall, Simon’s voice echoed across the room. Ysabeau stood beside him, smiling warmly at Marylyn.
"This humble one is indeed," Christopher replied nervously.
In his mind, people like them, stage performers, were no better than ants in the eyes of the powerful.
Back when the Goldwynd and Chandlier clans still held influence, they were often summoned to perform, and a single misstep could result in beatings or curses.
Because of this, members of acting troupes were always cautious and timid, afraid to speak or act too boldly.
"You don’t need to be nervous," Ysabeau said softly. "His Highness summoned you regarding the play, not to punish anyone."
Hearing this, everyone in the troupe let out a collective sigh of relief.
Simon hadn’t brought Christopher’s troupe here for idle conversation. He was planning for a cultural renaissance and needed a grassroots acting troupe to assist him.
Previously, performances in the royal castle were carried out by the castle’s own songstresses. But these women weren’t suitable for performing in public on streets and markets; it would damage the dignity of the castle.
Even though Simon possessed modern thinking, he still had to respect local customs. He couldn’t act too radically for a prince.
"Ysabeau is right. I didn’t summon you to scold anyone. In fact, I want you to work for me, but you mustn’t tell anyone you’re working for me."
"Work for Your Highness?" Christopher nearly jumped in shock, trembling and unsure how to respond.
Just then, Marylyn stepped forward and said. "Your Highness has always treated the people of Brambleford equally, like his own children. We deeply admire you. Whatever Your Highness instructs, our troupe will follow."
"You’re quite the quick-tongued girl," Simon said with a smile. No wonder Ysabeau had chosen Marylyn; the two really did share a resemblance.
"I only speak the truth, Your Highness," Marylyn replied sweetly.
Shaking his head, Simon said. "Christopher, to have such a daughter is your good fortune. She’s quite brave."
Flattered, Christopher scratched his head and chuckled foolishly.
Simon continued. "Very well then, I’ll speak plainly. I plan to build a theater here in Brambleford. I’ll have you manage it. But if I want you to perform something, you must perform it."
"Theater? What’s that?" Marylyn asked curiously.
"A theater is like the stage in the Eastern Market, except it’s indoors. From now on, your sole job will be performing plays. The government will fund you, pay your salaries every month, and manage the theater’s finances." Simon explained.
"You’ll pay us wages?" Marylyn gasped, stunned.
Ysabeau also looked puzzled. Simon was being unusually generous to a group of performers.
"Your Highness, may I ask why?" Marylyn asked once she’d calmed down.
"It’s not that I don’t want to explain," Simon said. "But even if I did, you wouldn’t understand it right now. One day you will. For now, just tell me whether you agree or not. If you don’t, I won’t force you."
Christopher was still in a daze, but Marylyn quickly answered. "We agree. We trust that Your Highness would never treat us unfairly."
"Do your words speak for your father too?" Simon asked, turning to the still-confused Christopher.
"My father will listen to me," Marylyn replied confidently.
Simon frowned slightly. Sometimes, communicating with people of this era felt exhausting. "Fine then. Go back and discuss it among yourselves. Give me your answer tomorrow."
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them.
After the troupe left, Ysabeau asked. "My Lord, why do you value this troupe so much?"
"It’s not that I value them in particular," Simon said. "They’re the only grassroots troupe in Brambleford. Not everyone is willing to expose themselves in public. That makes them rare."
"That’s true." Ysabeau agreed. "Especially the girl. It’s rare to find a woman like Marylyn who’s willing to perform in public."
"Exactly. I don’t want to search again. Besides, I saw her performance in the Eastern Market; it was genuinely good."
"That’s because her teacher was excellent," Ysabeau said playfully.
Simon took her hand and gently traced her palm, letting out a quiet hmph. "So arrogant. Fine then. Since you trained her, you’ll keep teaching her. Let Joan manage the textile workshop; you’ll oversee the theater. I still have plenty of scripts left."
"Really? Do you have more exciting stories? Ysabeau’s eyes sparkled.
Simon chuckled. With his wealth of modern knowledge, he had no shortage of drama ideas.
For him, the cultural renaissance would begin with drama. Plays were a perfect medium to transmit values and reshape thinking over time, a subtle but powerful transformation.
Even in the modern world, nations pay close attention to culture and the arts. A single great play could influence an entire generation. That was the true power of the arts.
Once the theater was complete, he would use the troupe to spread a wave of new thinking through their performances.
And he wouldn’t limit himself to traditional stage plays, songs, storytelling, and other performance formats would be included too.
Looking at Ysabeau’s lovely and curious expression, Simon said. "How about I tell you a story?"
"Really?" She asked.
"Yes.",Simon said seriously. "The story is about a girl and a boy meeting in secret."
"Secretly meeting? Isn’t that against the Three Obediences and Four Virtues? What a shameful girl! Your Highness, I bet she was drowned in a pig cage, wasn’t she?" Ysabeau asked innocently.
Simon opened his mouth awkwardly. "...Something like that."
"She deserved it! A proper woman must follow the rules. My Lord, these things happen all the time in the Eldorian Empire. I’ve heard many castle maids say that women caught meeting men in secret are drowned."
"And do you think they deserve that?" Simon asked cautiously.
"Of course! Secretly meeting men brings shame to their families." She replied firmly.
Simon swallowed hard. He had only meant to tease Ysabeau, but he had run headfirst into her deeply rooted religious morals. This made him realize that the cultural renaissance would face serious resistance. He would need to take small steps; too much change at once could backfire.
With a sigh, he said. "Then maybe I won’t tell that story."
"Then what story will Your Highness tell?" Ysabeau asked eagerly.
"How about another one?" Simon said with a mischievous grin...