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"Wow, I never knew the theater had a room like this!" Agnea exclaimed, glancing around at the shelves of books and other records.
"Of course, my dear," La'mani smirked, twirling his moustache. "This theater is as old as the city itself, so if there's something you're searching for, you're sure to find it here."
Throné held her tongue; although Agnea and La'mani had made peace with each other, she still couldn't say she cared much for the pompous and arrogant theater manager. However, Agnea wished to find more information about her mother's performances at the New Delsta Theater, so she would tolerate him for now.
"Cuani Bristarni was active during my mother's tenure, before I took over as the theater manager," La'mani added. "I remember some of her performances - she was quite dazzling. If you require any more assistance, don't hesitate to ask."
Agnea nodded. "Thank you very much!"
La'mani left the two women alone in the records room, and Agnea immediately bolted to the nearest shelf. Throné followed her calmly, and she could not help but smile at Agnea's excitement. Despite living in New Delsta all her life, she had never paid much attention to the theater beyond scouting potential wealthy marks for their valuables. Mired in the stench of blood as she was, the stage had seemed so frivolous and far away, but whenever Agnea stood upon that stage, she couldn't turn away.
"Let's see, twenty years ago…" Agnea muttered to herself, scanning the labels on the shelves. "Ah, here we are!" She took out a large, heavy ledger and gently set it down on a nearby table. She opened it, and Throné peered over her shoulder.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Throné asked.
"Just… anything about my mother's time here." Agnea smiled weakly. "She used to talk about the New Delsta Theater all the time, and how dazzling the stage was."
"No wonder you idealized this city so much."
"She always said we'd all visit here together someday, but…"
Throné felt her chest tighten at the sight of Agnea's pained expression, and gave Agnea's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let's keep looking. I'm sure we'll find something interesting."
Together they poured over the ledgers and even found some old and yellowed posters of Cuani Bristarni herself. As Throné expected, she looked much like her daughter, although her hair appeared thicker and darker, and she had wider shoulders and hips. Her bright smile, however, was identical to Agnea's, and a sudden sense of wistfulness came over Throné; would that she'd had the chance to meet Agnea's beloved mother. The portrait painter had captured such warm and kindness in Cuani's gaze.
"My mother was once the biggest star in the east," Agnea went on, and her fingers tightened around an old schedule. "A lot of her dancer colleagues at the time spoke highly of my father's work, so one day she decided to see what the fuss was about and commissioned a dress of her own from him. When she put on the finished dress, she always said it was like love at first sight."
"What a sweet story," Throné said. She held another old schedule, one that gave Cuani's performance top billing.
Agnea giggled. "It is, isn't it? They fell in love and she proposed to him, and then soon me and Pala were born. When we were old enough, we traveled all around the western continent with her, but she never had the chance to perform in New Delsta again."
"But now you carry on her legacy."
"I wanted her to see me shine." Agnea's smile vanished, and Throné saw how her hands trembled. "The other dancers here in this theater now don't remember her at all, and even in Sai, all people remembered of Mama was that statue, and not anything about her dancing..."
The sorrow on Agnea's face made Throné's heart ache, and she hesitated a moment before speaking. "It's true that stars fade, but you remember and love her still."
Agnea set down the ledger she was holding and wiped her eyes with her arm. "She kept wanting to shine and make people smile, so she pushed herself more and more… If I'd just noticed how much she was hurting, then maybe…"
Almost Throné said that Agnea had been a child when her mother passed away and thus couldn't have been expected to notice illness or fatigue, but instead remained silent; such a blunt statement wouldn't help Agnea. Instead, she carefully put her arms around Agnea, and Agnea sobbed against her shoulder. She stroked Agnea's soft hair gently, and simply let Agnea cry into her embrace. At times she worried about Agnea too, the way Agnea often threw herself into dance without pause, but when she told Agnea to rest, Agnea rarely refused her, much to her relief.
"Thank you, Throné," Agnea said when she finally calmed. "And I'm sorry for crying all over you."
"It's fine," Throné replied, brushing her lips against Agnea's hair. "I always want to hear more about your mother, both the happy memories and the sad ones too."
"I still miss her every day." Agnea's voice fell to a whisper. "Do you think she'd be proud of me…?"
"Of course. With how you shined at the Grand Gala and then the eight of us bringing back the dawn together, how could she not be?" Throné lowered her lips to Agnea's ear and whispered, "She'd also want you to take care of yourself too."
Agnea only let out an embarrassed giggle, and then gave Throné a quick kiss on the lips.
La'mani soon returned to the records room. "How goes your search, ladies?" he asked.
"We're almost finished!" Agnea replied, holding another poster. "Um, would it be possible if I kept this poster of my mother…?"
"Let me see, please." La'mani accepted the poster from Agnea and examined it closely. "Oh, I remember now - this portrait of Cuani was one of my mother's favorites too." He paused a moment, chewing his lip, and Agnea watched him with an entreating look. "But I think she'd be happy too if Cuani's daughter had it."
"Thank you!" Agnea exclaimed, clasping her hands together. La'mani gave her back the poster, and smiled as she hugged it carefully to her chest.
By the time Agnea and Throné bid farewell to La'mani and left the theater, night had fallen. As they walked back to the inn, Agnea held Throné's hand tightly. Her eyes were still a bit bloodshot, but her smile was true. "When we get back to Cropdale, I'll show this poster to Pala and Papa too. I'm sure they'll love it as well."
"It really is a lovely portrait of your mother. She was a beautiful woman."
"I wish you could've meet her too…"
If Throné had been a few years older, maybe she could've seen one of Cuani's performances at the New Delsta Theater, but Agnea had said she left New Delsta twenty years ago, so Throné would only have been three at that time, and she couldn't remember Father ever showing much interest in the arts, so doubtful he would've taken her to the theater even if she had asked. Yet a smile tugged at her lips; still, if not for Cuani inspiring her daughter, she never would've met Agnea and fallen in love. No matter how stained in blood her hands were, she would never regret loving Agnea. "Then you'll just have to tell me more about your mother, won't you?" she said with a wink.
Agnea beamed. "Yes, of course!"