You stood in the hall of the Opera House, awaiting the response of the secretary you’d been conferring with about the availability of the stage tonight. Hearing the doors open behind you, you face Lyney striding into the hall, a look of confusion crossing his face, before settling on exasperation. As a performer yourself, you often found yourself in a race for venues against the magicians - no way you’d let him take the Opera Epiclese. He folded his arms as he approached, raising a brow.