“Even if that happens, I still believe this is the best decision for me right now. So please withdraw your offer, Count. I’m asking you.”
As soon as Maylily finished speaking, the man removed the cigar from his red lips and set it down in the ashtray.
“It seems our conversation ends here today. You may go.”
Had her earnest plea worked? The Count, who had been steadily pressing her until now, unexpectedly let her go without resistance.
Fearing he might change his mind, Maylily quickly left the director’s office. She gave a polite nod to the director and the Count’s secretary waiting in the hallway before returning to the rehearsal room.
The rehearsal proceeded smoothly and ended by dusk. Exhausted from the day’s tension, Maylily returned to the dressing room and began preparing to leave—only to be summoned once more by the director.
“You don’t need to attend rehearsals starting tomorrow, Maylily Isle.”
The moment she stepped into the office, the words struck her like a bolt from the blue, draining all color from her face.
“W-What… do you mean, Director? The new season is just around the corner…”
“So dull-witted that you didn’t even realize what you were doing. From this moment on, you are no longer a member of the Roden Opera Company. Pack your things and leave the theater immediately.”
Just like that, the tower Maylily had painstakingly built since last summer collapsed in an instant.
It was well after twilight had deepened into a violet dusk when Maylily Isle appeared at the performers’ entrance on the east side of the theater building.
“Miss Maylily Isle has just come out, Count.”
David, seated in a carriage parked across the street near a large zelkova tree, reported politely. Hugh, who had been reading documents inside, slowly lifted his gaze toward the window.
The street was empty after the opera members had already gone home. The woman standing there wore a worn coat wrapped tightly with a thick scarf. Her blonde hair glowed faintly under the streetlamps.
Clutching a bag filled with her belongings, she took slow steps forward—then stopped. The way she turned to look back at where she had come from revealed a lingering attachment.
“Did Director Fritz say he would leave the position open?”
Hugh asked, turning to David.
“Yes. He said her role is minor, so replacing her would be easy. If it means securing your sponsorship, he seemed ready to create a position out of nothing.”
“A man who obeys money is easy to handle.”
With a slight curl of his lips, Hugh turned his gaze back outside. Following his line of sight, David now saw Maylily setting her bag down and wiping her tears with a handkerchief.
Her delicate and defined features, her clear, pale skin, and her slender figure beneath her modest clothes…
Even in the dim light, the beauty that informants had unanimously praised shone through.
Victor Haywood is searching for his daughter—his last asset to sell to an old noble.
When that rumor from the back alleys of Burhin reached Hugh, David had been ordered to uncover the identity of the woman in less than a week. To accomplish that absurd task, he had poured money like water, shaking his head at the madness of it all.
But after seeing her in person earlier that day, David had immediately changed his mind. She was worth it.
Though, of course, it wasn’t his money that had been spent—it was Hugh’s.
Their plan had seemed straightforward: find the woman before Victor Haywood did. But it hit an unexpected snag when she rejected Hugh’s sponsorship.
The opera world was a place where intertwined interests and desires formed a web, deeply rooted in the logic of capital. Singers were no exception. It was standard practice for them to accept sponsorships to secure better roles and stable careers.
No matter how inexperienced Maylily Isle was, she couldn’t be unaware of that reality.
Moreover, her income as a singer was so insufficient that she had to work as a waitress. Even her aunt’s household, her only family, was far from wealthy.
Which meant she needed sponsorship more than anyone.
And yet, she had rejected the hand of one of the continent’s most powerful men.
The result of defying someone she should never have opposed—she now stood outside her former workplace, unable to leave, quietly sobbing.
Even from afar, her trembling shoulders were clearly visible. As a flicker of sympathy rose within him, David adjusted his glasses and turned his gaze back inside the carriage. Better to cut off such shallow pity before it took root.
Only after she stopped crying and began walking again did Hugh’s gaze finally leave the window. His blue-gray eyes, dimmed by the evening light, appeared darker than usual.
“Will you visit the restaurant tomorrow?”
“No. I’ll observe for a few days. I want to give Miss Isle enough time to fully reflect on today’s lesson.”
With a cold smile, Hugh ended the conversation and tapped the carriage wall twice. Leaving the woman still lingering near the theater behind, the carriage moved forward into the deepening night.
As the spring social season approached, Roden grew busier by the day. In the Cryer District, where commoners and laborers lived, the social season belonged to another world—but being situated across the Fez River from the aristocratic center of Aberk District, its liveliness spilled over.
As a result, the restaurant located in the heart of Cryer was unusually crowded today. Among the bustling tables, Maylily moved quickly, a white apron tied around her waist. The busyness was almost welcome—it distracted her, if only briefly, from the heavy thoughts that had been weighing on her mind.
It had already been half a year since she began working as a waitress to make ends meet, as her income as a chorus member was not enough to survive in the city.
She had hoped to establish herself in the opera company as soon as possible and focus solely on singing.
Instead, she had been driven off the stage and was now a full-time waitress.
“You should go to Count Everscourt tomorrow, apologize, and accept his sponsorship. That is the only way you can return.”
On the day she was dismissed, the director had urged her to follow the Count’s wishes.
But Maylily wanted to avoid becoming personally entangled with nobles at all costs. She didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps—the very path that had left her branded an illegitimate child for life. It was a principle she had always upheld, and a wish shared by the aunt who had raised her.
In the end, Maylily decided to audition for another opera company in the summer.
It wasn’t easy to accept stepping back when she had been so close to her goal. But she consoled herself with the thought that sometimes, one must take a step back to move forward.
I’ll take lessons and prepare properly.
To do that, she needed to cover both living expenses and lesson fees. The day after her dismissal, she asked Mr. Hodger, the restaurant owner, if she could increase her working days and hours.
“If you’re willing to, I’d be more than happy!”
He welcomed the idea enthusiastically. Reliable and diligent workers like Maylily were hard to find. And so, she began working every single day.
“Lily, table by the window just placed an order. Some prince-like man specifically asked for you. Doesn’t look like he’s from around here—maybe your reputation reached the upper districts?”
Nora whispered playfully, nudging Maylily’s arm as she returned from serving another table.
“Oh, come on… reputation? I’ll go check. Thanks, Nora.”
Since she had a few regulars who requested her, Maylily didn’t think much of it. But as she approached the table, taking out her notepad and pencil—
She froze.
The moment she recognized the profile of the “prince-like man” sitting by the window.
The man, who had been gazing outside, sensed her stare and slowly turned his head. The moment their eyes met, Maylily felt as though all the noise in the restaurant vanished.
Her heart pounded wildly, ringing in her ears like an alarm.
Why is Count Everscourt here…?
His neatly styled, glossy hair, his calm gaze unaffected by the surrounding noise, his perfectly tailored black coat, his straight and elegant posture, the leather gloves on his large hands, and his spotless shoes—
Nothing about him fit this modest restaurant.
Other patrons seemed to think the same, stealing glances at him with a mix of awe and curiosity.
Why on earth is he here?
A thousand questions filled her mind as she slowly approached him.
