OPERA NIGHT

The Cardinal had called for a meeting, and now they came, one after the other, down the stairs to the secret meeting place, as usual in their wide cloaks and with the red mask covering their faces. The Cardinal himself had donned his mask and thrown his black cloak, which had concealed his red robe, over a stone block. Silently, he observed the men as they entered, bowed, and took their seats. The last chair remained empty. So, the vampire did not intend to participate in this meeting. Or had he perhaps claimed another victim? Quickly, the Cardinal's gaze swept over the veiled figures. More precisely, over their shadows. Well, under all the cloaks and masks were people. The tension eased a little from him. He cleared his throat.

"Let us begin. I have good news. We have come a step closer to our goal again. The Pope continues to enjoy the best of health and will serve our plans. And around Vittorio Emanuele II and his parliament, things are getting - let's say - clearer. After Ratazzi's death, Depretis hinted that he would retire for health reasons!"

Another spoke up. "Also, Count Robilant is not doing well. He suffers from anemia and is so weak that a representative is supposed to take over his position as foreign minister for a few weeks while the doctors try to strengthen him with donor blood."

The Cardinal nodded in satisfaction. "Good, next!"

"From internal circles, one hears that Count Balbo wants to return to his homeland. The King is anything but pleased to lose his advisor. However, the Count explains that it is time to focus again on his own lands. However, I heard a servant say that the Count expressed to him that the climate in Rome seems unhealthy to him."

"Excellent!" The Cardinal rubbed his hands together. "Next!"

And so it went around. One reported on unrest in Rome because the common people had had enough of mysterious deaths and demanded the expulsion of demons! The police commissioners failed. Who else but the Church could help now?

The news put the Cardinal in a state of euphoria, as if he had drunk too much heavy red wine. Progress was being made. The important people of the government disappeared, fell ill, or left Rome voluntarily. The undermining and hollowing out had to continue for a while longer. But then, on the day the King would die, the people would be ready to joyfully welcome the Pope as their sole lord and savior. And then an army would set out to eradicate all unholy things from the soil of Italy!

The Cardinal rose to end the meeting when a hand was raised. "Forgive me, Eminence, may I ask one more question?"

"Yes, please."

"Do you not consider it - let's say - dangerous to allow the planned excavations on the Oppius?"

It was certainly not wise to admit that he had no idea what the fourth masked man was talking about, but the Cardinal was so taken aback that he could only stare at him. "Be clearer!" he blurted out.

"Archaeologist de Rossi is back and has spoken to the Holy Father, and Pius has sent the Camerlengo to the King. Both the King and the Parliament have shown interest and pledged their support!"

"What does he want to excavate this time?" asked the Cardinal, trying to give his voice a bored tone.

"They are searching for the Domus Aurea, Nero's golden palace."

It felt to Cardinal Angelo as if the ground was swaying beneath his feet. "You need not concern yourselves with that," he said hoarsely. "I will ensure that there are no such excavations or any others in the area." He grabbed his cloak and swung it over his shoulders.

"Our meeting is hereby adjourned! May God be with us and support our holy goals." The others murmured a corresponding response as the Cardinal rushed past them up the stairs. Tomorrow, he would pay a visit to the Pope and make it clear to him that it would be better to discuss such plans with his Cardinal beforehand in the future!

"Today there will be no classes," announced Conte Claudio in the evening after the exam in the golden hall. "Before the first guests leave, we will all go to the opera together. It's a major social event, with many people in attendance. It will confuse you, perhaps even frighten you or ignite your imagination. So that the temptation does not become too great, you must not be alone for a moment! Go in pairs or groups of three and enjoy the evening. Additionally, I will assign one of our shadows to each of you, tasked with keeping an eye on you. And now, return to your sleeping chambers and let yourselves be assisted in changing clothes." His gaze lingered somewhat disapprovingly on Alisa, who, as usual, wore trousers, a shirt, and a jacket. However, she looked much neater in them than Joanne or her even dirtier cousin Fernand.

"No cats and no rats!" added the Conte as they left. Fernand and Maurizio looked disappointed. Raphaela beamed and hummed to herself as she collected the empty cups.

"Are you coming too?" Alisa asked.

The young servant girl nodded. "The venerable Marcello has requested my company, first to the opera and then to an establishment where we wouldn't yet take you. Conte Claudio doesn't mind. It's been ages since I last went out!"

"Marcello?" Vaguely, the image of an old man who cursed and grumbled against the Conte rose in Alisa's mind.

Raphaela made a face. "Yes, there are certainly more pleasant partners for a night out in Rome, but I won't complain. I get along with him, and I'm looking forward to the opera!" She quickly placed the last cups on her tray and hurried off to change, because today even the impure ones were allowed to shed their gray uniforms and adorn themselves with evening attire - although none as magnificent as the pure-blooded vampires!

Except for the Dracas, who always looked as if they were about to attend a ball, all students had to change clothes. The Conte even had new dresses brought for the two Austrian girls, according to local fashion, without voluminous hoop skirts, but instead with a bustle and a gathered train. Alisa's dress was the blue of lapis lazuli and matched wonderfully with her eyes, which now appeared darker in the reflection. Two young maids helped her curl her reddish-blond hair with a curling iron and pin it up with various jewel-adorned combs and pins. Ivy's dress was turquoise. She hid her silver hair as best she could under a jaunty hat with dyed ostrich feathers. Chiara looked simply stunning in her blood-red dress with black lace! Most of the young vampire girls strutted with their heads held high, not bothering to hide their excitement. Joanne seemed to be the only one far from happy about the change. She looked down at her dress, which was plainer and not as figure-hugging as the others', yet she visibly felt uncomfortable.

In the courtyard, they met the boys and the Conte's guests. They all looked splendid as well. Conte Claudio stood out as usual with a play of colors that made Alisa blink. The floral vest was a bit too much with the tight yellow pants and the juicy green patterned jacket!

Palanquins were brought forth, and at the foot of the hill, several carriages arrived to take the guests to the Teatro dell'Opera. Rome had not possessed an opera house for a long time, but now the new capital of the kingdom had finally had one built. It was nowhere near as magnificent as La Scala in Milan or the Gran Teatro La Fenice in Venice, but it would certainly serve its purpose. Yes, its simplicity and coolness were even intentional, to underline the new age of progress.

"What will be performed tonight?" Alisa asked as she climbed into a sedan chair behind Ivy and Luciano.

"The Barber of Seville by Gioachino Rossini," Luciano willingly provided information. "At its premiere here in Rome, the opera was not a great success, but nowadays the Romans love the piece. Just like Cinderella and William Tell, the last opera he wrote before his death."

Ivy was unusually silent and seemed distressed. She absentmindedly played with her simple bracelet, which had been made from the green marble under the bogs of Connemara, as she had once told Alisa. "It ties me to my homeland," were her words, and her voice had sounded completely foreign. Surely, she was thinking of Ireland - and of Seymour. 

Perhaps the reason for her melancholy mood was that Conte Claudio had forbidden her from bringing Seymour along. She had never been separated from him before, she had exclaimed, but the Conte had remained firm and had locked the wolf in a stone enclosure. Now all joy seemed spoiled for her, but Alisa was confident that the magic of the night would soon distract her.

The square in front of the opera house was brightly lit. Finely dressed people streamed in from all directions. Alisa admired the lavish clothes, hats, jewelry, and fans, and longed for the comfort of her trousers. Luciano bowed and gallantly offered each of the girls an arm. Under the watchful eyes of the shadows, the young vampires climbed the steps and entered the grand hall.

"Isn't it exciting?" Chiara rushed over to them with her lace skirt gathered. "I love it! So many people and that smell everywhere, it makes you dizzy."

"Yes, dizzy," Ivy said, her smile appearing somewhat strained. The countless gaslights spread dazzling brightness, and despite the winter temperatures outside, it was already stiflingly hot indoors. "There are too many people for me, and I feel like I should run away!"

Luciano tightened his grip on her arm slightly. "You'll get used to it. I find it exciting and frightening at the same time. I feel my teeth pressing forward and can hardly bring myself to open my mouth. I always think everyone must stop, turn to me, and stare."

Alisa chuckled nervously. "If they wanted to stare at every vampire present today, there wouldn't be too many left for each of us."

Luciano joined in her laughter, but Ivy muttered, "Still enough."

"Then let's find our seats. We'll be sitting over there on the left side in a box with Chiara, Tammo, and Malcolm. I can tell you a bit more about Rossini and the piece until it starts, if you're interested."

"Sure!" And so Luciano skillfully led them through the crowd to their box, while he talked about the life and death of Rossini.

"The great Giuseppe Verdi held him in high regard and invited the twelve most significant composers of Italy to compose a requiem mass for Rossini after his death. It was supposed to premiere on the first anniversary of his death, but for some reason, the Messa per Rossini, the Mass for Rossini, has not been performed to this day."

Alisa gave Luciano an astonished look. "You know a lot. I didn't know you were so passionate about music."

Luciano squirmed a bit. "I've always found opera fascinating and have been to various performances a few times with the venerable Giuseppe, but I usually don't talk about it. I don't think this is a passion that earns admiration among vampires."

Alisa shrugged. "So what? Do you think anyone in my family understands my passion for human inventions and their newspaper headlines? But most of the time, I don't care. On the contrary, I find their way of idly living through the night simply boring!"

"You are very wise," said Luciano. He pulled out an opera glass and handed it to Alisa.

She took it and thanked him. "Although my eyes are sharp enough to see what's happening on stage without an opera glass."

"That's not the point," Luciano instructed her. "It's just customary to observe the performers through the glass and talk about their performances during the intermission. So we need to remember who's playing Count Almaviva, Rosina, Marcellina, and Dr. Bartolo, and of course, Figaro!"

"I didn't realize an opera evening was so complicated," Alisa replied with a feigned sigh, winking at Luciano. She aimed her glass at the dome above the hall and admired the painting that arched over the audience area, perhaps the only truly magnificent thing about the new opera house. Then the lights in the audience area were extinguished, and gradually the chatter in the galleries and the stalls subsided. The curtain gleamed in the light of the gas lamps. Then invisible ropes hoisted it up, revealing the stage.

Latona lowered her opera glass. "Uncle, there are vampires sitting over there in the box!" She passed the glass to Carmelo, who stared into the opposite tiers for a long time.

"Yes, you're right, my dear, and not just in that box. Did you see the strange figures over there? I can't imagine they're from around here."

Latona smoothed her long, pale yellow dress with rust-red ribbons before reaching for the opera glass her uncle held out to her. It was as if she wanted to buy time. For what? Her heartbeat quickened, but she tried not to admit to herself that she was only looking for that one pair of blue eyes and the pale face with the lips that had kissed her. Only at home, when she had examined her neck closely, had the question arisen in her why he had kissed her but not bitten her. Vampires lived off the blood of their victims. They were evil beings who knew no consideration or pity - none of the feelings that were unique to humans. Or did they? Hadn't her uncle told her everything about these creatures? Or did he not know any better either?

Carmelo's voice sounded distant. "It's very unusual how many of them are gathered here today. I can't find an explanation for it. At least not one that wouldn't greatly concern me," he added quietly. Latona didn't reply. She continued to gaze through the opera glass.

Then she saw him. Her heart skipped a beat, and she thought she couldn't breathe anymore. With three other vampires who resembled him but must have been a few years younger, he sat upright behind the railing. He had exchanged his rough jacket for an elegant tailcoat. In the background, she could discern more figures, but they didn't interest her. She stared intently at Malcolm, trying to breathe evenly.

Although the action on stage was building toward its climax, Malcolm suddenly turned away from the performance and looked directly at their box. Latona recoiled and pressed her back against the chair back. The opera glass slipped from her hands and fell into her lap. He had noticed her! Yes, he was looking straight into her eyes. Even in this dim light and at this distance, she felt she could see the deep blue in them.

Carmelo leaned over to her and retrieved the opera glass from her ribbons and ruffles. "Well, my dear? What does your census reveal?" he asked, his voice tinged with mild mockery.

"What?" She could only just turn her head to look at her uncle.

"How many vampires have you counted? Their number seems to frighten you. You've gone quite pale!" He patted her fingers, which were as cold as Malcolm's hands, cheeks, and lips.

"A cold shiver runs down my spine!"

"Yes, there are damn many!"

Latona resolved not to think about the blue eyes anymore and tried to force a smile. "Uncle, you're cursing? You'll surely mention that in your confession!"

"But of course! I wouldn't want to burden my poor soul with even more sins," he said, still speaking lightly, but Latona felt that he was also tense. "Perhaps they're all coming to Rome to unite and take action against humans."

"Do you really think so?" Her voice trembled. "They don't seem very aggressive. Do you think they look dangerous?"

Carmelo shook his head. "No, but they are dangerous! And that's why I'll continue attending this masquerade and helping the Cardinal, even though at the moment, he seems the deadliest of all these predators."

"If you think that's the right thing to do, Uncle Carmelo," Latona choked out, glancing back at the box where Malcolm was sitting, but he seemed captivated by the play on stage.

Carmelo gripped his niece's arm firmly. "I want you to stay here during the intermission! And when we leave, you'll always be by my side. Anything else would be too risky!"

She nodded, relieved yet disappointed and sad at the same time.

During the intermission, the audience streamed into the foyer and the grand staircase. Champagne was served, and exquisite hors d'oeuvres were passed on fine porcelain - at least for the visitors in the expensive boxes. The common people remained below amongst themselves.

Anna Christina stood at the top of the stairs, looking around with a bored expression. "It's pathetically provincial. So plain and cold with this gray-white marble."

Marie Luise agreed, as usual, although she probably didn't even know what her older cousin was talking about. "Vienna just has a different class. I wonder why we have to endure this suburban spectacle."

"I can't stand this singing anyway," grumbled Karl Philipp. "I don't know why women always have to scream in the highest tones."

"That, dear cousin, is called a soprano!" Franz Leopold said irritably. "And she is really good!"

He put down the untouched champagne glass that one of the human attendants had handed him and stormed down the stairs. He was angry. It was better to feel angry than helpless, because even though he tried not to admit it to himself, he knew that crowds of people unsettled him. It was like a slight dizziness, and it got worse every time. He couldn't claim that this was his first social event, and at the beginning, it had been different. It was more like that tingling excitement that gets the blood flowing. An anticipation that increased from time to time until - yes, until he disobeyed the rule that young vampires had to obey.

Driven by unrest, Franz Leopold wandered through the corridors. The faces blurred before his eyes, the conversations turned into a buzz. Dresses appeared like smeared paint strokes and disappeared again. Except for one. Suddenly, Franz Leopold realized that he had been following a particular pink dress for quite some time, in which a young blonde girl was dressed. She headed towards the door of the rooms that only ladies had access to, to freshen up or to visit a facility that only humans needed. The door closed silently behind her. Franz Leopold stopped in front of it for a moment. It had already rung for the third time. The performance was continuing. He should return to his box. The door opened and let out three young ladies. The girl in the pink dress wasn't among them. Franz Leopold bowed deeply and let them pass. They giggled as they hurried down the corridor. Now she was alone in there. He knew it, even though he couldn't say why.

The others would miss him and look for him, and if they found him here, he would get into trouble. Damn big trouble! Franz Leopold licked his lips. He pressed down the latch and entered the room illuminated by candle sconces. The girl sat in a chair in front of the mirror, a powder puff in her hand. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Had she been crying? When she heard the door, she turned around and stared at Franz Leopold.

"Pardon, Signor, this room is for ladies only. You must have overlooked the sign on the door!"

Franz Leopold bowed deeply. "No, Signorina, I did not."

"He hasn't returned," Ivy said, sounding worried.

"What? Who?" Luciano asked, leading the two girls back to their box after the third bell.

"Franz Leopold. I saw him running down the stairs earlier."

"Yes, and?" Alisa interjected.

"He was alone, and he hasn't come back."

"That's not our problem," said Luciano, adjusting their chairs. "It's Matthias' job to look after him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Ivy fell silent, but she kept leaning forward to look into the box shared by the young Dracas and their companions. The lights went out, and the curtain rose again. Although the performers returned to the stage, Ivy's attention remained focused on the Dracas' box.

"He's in trouble. I can see Matthias standing in the background, and he's just as worried!"

Her gaze met that of the young vampire. He had both arms around the waist of a girl in a pink dress, leaning peacefully against his chest. He had masterfully used the power of his thoughts. Anger and confusion wrestled in his eyes as he saw Ivy approaching.

"You should let her go now," Ivy said calmly, unlinking his hands from the rosy taffeta.

"I haven't done anything! Get lost! It's none of your business," he retorted.

With a quick glance at the girl's unharmed neck, Ivy nodded. "Yes, everything's fine. It's still fine! And to keep it that way, you'll follow me now, because you have no business being here!"

She gripped his hands more firmly than he probably expected and pulled him towards the door. At first, he resisted, but then he followed her. "It's none of your business," he said defiantly once more.

A smile played on Ivy's lips. "How can I accept a man entering the ladies' room without pointing out his mistake and correcting it?"

Franz Leopold stared at her perplexed, then laughed. "You're a strange girl, Ivy-Máire!"

"I'll take that as a compliment now." She pushed Franz Leopold out into the corridor. Before closing the door, she glanced back at the girl who had sunk onto the stool in front of the mirror. She wouldn't remember anything.

"Now let's return to our boxes before someone misses us." She still held his hand. Together, they walked along the corridor, but they didn't get far. At the bottom of the stairs, they met Matthias.

"What does this mean?" he asked sharply.

Ivy was about to start explaining when Franz Leopold preempted her. Apparently, he had regained his presence of mind and his arrogant tone. "I don't think it's any of your business if I meet with a lady," he said, looking down at Matthias disdainfully. "We were instructed to always be in pairs, and we're not breaking that rule, are we?"

Matthias gasped. "A Lycana?" he blurted out.

"I think it's time to take Ivy back to her box. The performance is already underway again," said Franz Leopold coldly, bowing curtly and offering her his arm. Ivy linked her arm with his and gathered her long skirt with her other hand. Silently, they ascended the stairs and reached the door leading to their box.

"Thank you," Franz Leopold said softly before turning away and walking off with his shadow.