Book Title: A STAGE SET FOR VILLAINS
Character Names: Riven Hesper (18); Jude Stepharros (Immortal)
I wince at the piercing spotlight clapping on overhead as I follow Jude past the curtain and onto the stage, to a set of chairs set arranged at the center of it. Sil said the stage would look better in any images of us that appear in the papers, so here we are.
The reporter seems nice enough and waves us over, but the walk from our dressing rooms gave me far too much time to harp on what they might ask. And Titus’s interview advice about how to “answer without answering” has long since fled my mind.
JUDE: “Heart, it’s an interview, not an interrogation.” He glances at me over his shoulder and adds in a whisper, “Stop dragging your feet. You’ll scuff up the stage.”
Jude promised he’d handle most of the questions and I took that as a threat.
I lower myself into the chair Jude pulls out for me before seating himself, crossing one long leg over the other and looking far too comfortable as he says, “You’ll have to forgive us the delay.” As if we aren’t late because he threw a fit over his hair on the way down from our dressing rooms—and stopped at nearly every mirror we passed to adjust which lock of copper to tuck behind his ear. And he didn’t find it funny when I joked that his eyeliner was smudged.
He runs a hand through his hair again and turns to the reporter, who’s giving him the same doting look every poor soul to ever stumble into Jude’s path seems to have.
JUDE: “Where did you say this piece is running again?”
RIVEN: “And is there a reason you couldn’t send your questions in advance?”
Jude waves me off. “Ask us anything. We’re an open book.” He leans forward and throws a sideways glance in my direction, quietly adding, “The sort that might snap shut on your fingers, but she’ll warm up.”
The reporter clears their throat and offers the first question.
REPORTER: “How would you describe your family or your childhood?”
I straighten and Jude curses under his breath.
RIVEN: “Sure. Let’s talk about that.”
JUDE: “Love, maybe don’t—”
RIVEN: “I was cursed by a Player when I was young and life was hell after it. I spent most days trying to figure out how to undo what had happened to me, and the rest of it shrugging off the way the rest of the world chose to treat me thereafter. Then, one day, it brought me here.” I gesture to the doors at the back of the auditorium. “I’ll admit I’ve found it easier to stroll in through those golden gates than it is to stroll out. Regarding my family, you’ve probably heard my father’s corpse was famously discovered on those pretty steps just outside when I was a child.”
Dreadful silence reigns for a moment before Jude claps his hands and calls out, “So! Next question?”
REPORTER: What is your greatest talent?
JUDE: “That’s easy.” He leans back. “All of them.”
RIVEN: “I’ve been told I’m good at rearranging dressing rooms.”
Jude snorts.
The reporter adjusts their glasses. “Significant other?”
RIVEN: “I am begging you to skip this question.”
REPORTER: “Biggest challenge in relationships?”
JUDE: “Her, mostly.”
I elbow him.
REPORTER: “Where do you live?”
Jude gestures to the red curtain. “Welcome to our humble abode.”
REPORTER: “Do you have any enemies?”
At this, Jude groans. I shift, uneasy.
RIVEN: “It changes a lot.”
JUDE: “Each other, on occasion. Long story.”
REPORTER: “How do you feel about the place where you are now? Is there something you are particularly attached to, or particularly repelled by, in this place?”
Jude thinks I don’t catch the way he winces. I let my gaze flick from the marble stage at our feet, to the endless rows of scarlet seats beyond it, to the doors at the back. Somewhere beyond them, the golden gates of the Playhouse stand open. Sil had them unlocked for the interview.
It’s not a bad question. On occasion, I’ve asked it myself. My feelings about the Playhouse are complicated, and in truth, sometimes I think I hate this place as much as I love it.
I smile and shrug. “There’s no place like home, I guess.”
The reporter makes a note and goes on.
REPORTER: “Do you have children, pets, both, or neither?”
PARRISH: “I have pets!”
Jude and I both throw scathing looks over our shoulders at the rogue cast member traipsing onto the stage with—
RIVEN: “Where did you get that?”
Parrish holds up what is either a very large cat or a very young mountain lion. “To fix the bird problem in the dressing rooms.”
Jude startles. “What bird problem?”
Parrish shrugs and wanders off.
Jude hollers over his shoulder, “Titus?”
“Handling it,” Titus calls back from somewhere in the wings.
Jude pinches the bridge of his nose as the reporter smartly skips the question and moves on.
REPORTER: “What do you do for a living?”
I rub my temples while Jude makes an sudden recovery and loudly introduces himself as Lead Player of the Playhouse before listing off his performance credits and suggesting the reporter pick up a poster on their way out. He offers to autograph it.
RIVEN: “Next question?”
The reporter checks their notepad. “What do you do to entertain yourself or have fun?”
Jude frowns, a familiar I’m-getting-bored expression settling into his features. “As you know, entertainment is sort of our specialty.”
REPORTER: “What is your greatest personal failing, in your view?”
A spark I’ve come to recognize with ignites behind Jude’s eyes at the implied insult, but before I can warn the reporter, a cough catches our attention and we turn.
Sil strolls in through the backdoors. Our director smiles pleasantly at the reporter as the doors click shut behind him before announcing, “If you value your life, I’d suggest not asking such invasive personal questions of my Players. Their egos can be a bit sensitive, you see.”
The reporter makes a note and cautiously moves on, turning to me this time. “What keeps you awake at night?”
I shrug. I think there are plenty of things wandering the Playhouse that would keep anyone awake at night. “The whispers from our mirrors can be a bit distracting, I guess.”
REPORTER: “What is the most pressing problem you have at the moment?”
JUDE: “Ah, let’s see. One of my rings is missing,”—A pointed glare in my direction—“my dressing room is in a state of utter disarray, the Prop Master thinks I’m in love with her, and—”
RIVEN: “I’m fairly certain a ghost is trying to kill me.”
The reporter scribbles rather furiously this time before asking their last question, “Is there something that you need or want that you don’t have? For yourself or for someone important to you?”
Both of us shift, uncomfortable. From the aisle, Sil shakes his head. “I’m afraid that would fall under a spoiler, and should your readers wish to find out, they’ll need to come attend a performance here at the Playhouse themselves.” He claps his hands. “Now! If you don’t mind, my Players have a rehearsal to get to.”
After gathering their things, the reporter thanks us for the time and heads for the exit.
Neither of us gets the chance to warn them. It probably wouldn’t do much good.
I hope no one reads that article. It’s best everyone stay far, far away from the Playhouse.
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The gods are dead. All that’s left are the Players…
The performers of the Playhouse are as worshipped as they are feared, their enchanting shows bending hearts, minds, and even reality itself. Vicious, godlike, lethal. Eighteen-year-old Riven Hesper knows the dangers better than anyone, after her own encounter with a Player resulted in a curse that is slowly killing her.
When the Playhouse announces the spectacle of a lifetime—a chance for one mortal to steal a Player’s immortality—Riven sees her last chance to live. Desperate for answers, she infiltrates the competition. There, she finds Jude, the Playhouse’s brilliant, merciless Lead Player, whose charm is as dangerous as his Craft, and strikes a deadly bargain to save her life.
But with time running out and the Playhouse’s secrets unraveling into a disturbing picture, Riven faces a grim possibility: she might not be the hero of her story after all. In fact, she may be the villain.
Because the Playhouse doesn’t just tell stories. It rewrites them.
And Riven’s might end in blood.
Caraval meets One Dark Window in this lush and dark fantasy.
Young Adult | Fantasy Dark [ Entangled, On Sale: February 3, 2026, Hardcover / e-Book / audiobook, ISBN: 9781649379511 / eISBN: 9781649379528 ]
Shannon J. Spann is an NYC-based writer from Virginia, where she grew up as one of six sisters and spent most days crafting stories in the woods (and subsequently performing them for anyone who would listen). A lifelong fan of ghost stories, old movies, and all things theatrical, Shannon can most often be found wandering Central Park, exploring her local bookstore, or hunting down a sunbeam to read in.
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