“Elena. Can you pass the newspaper over there?”

Ariana casually instructed while sipping her coffee.

A quick-witted maid brought the newspaper to her instead of Elena.

“……”

The moment she discovered the headline, Ariana’s fingers twitched subtly.

Ariana blankly stared at the photo of Dante captured with his rumored lover, then quickly put it down as if she had seen something she shouldn’t have.

“It’s bound to be some cheap woman.”

Elena wrinkled her nose again as she glanced at the newspaper that had come closer to her. Then she sneered and picked up her teacup.

“For one night, at best he’ll play with her for a few days before discarding her. I hope she’s not dreaming that she can marry the Duke just because she got the title of girlfriend for the first time.”

That would be too pitiful.

Elena smirked as she brought the teacup to her lips.

“These newspaper companies, really.”

“……”

“Why are they making such a fuss over a mere one-night toy girl? Thanks to them, that poor girl is likely to get false hopes. Thinking she might become the official wife or something… What? Why are you smiling?”

Elena suddenly turned to Ariana and frowned sharply.

She was annoyed by the strange curve of Ariana’s lips as she tilted her coffee cup.

“Oh, just. It’s delicious.”

Ariana smiled, her eyes crinkling.

“The coffee.”

…What part of that sewage-colored drink is so delicious it makes you smile?

It must be pure pretense. Elena snorted and turned her head away as Ariana stood up from her seat.

“Let’s get up now. Today’s the day for rehearsal, isn’t it?”

“Right. You’re coming too, aren’t you, sister?”

Of course I have to go.

Elena stood up without waiting for an answer.

Elena always brought Ariana along not just on performance days, but also for rehearsals.

‘Although my sister has many untrustworthy points, still…’

She was at least skilled in serving her.

Meticulous condition management, score management, and so on.

Without Ariana, there would likely be many disruptions to the rehearsal. Although Elena herself had never admitted it.

Before leaving the dining room, Elena unconsciously glanced once more at the annoying newspaper and scrunched up her face.

“Wait, what’s this now?”

The name printed in that corner was familiar.

Rosalyn Tenor, Successful Singer Debut!

Rosalyn? If it’s Rosalyn Tenor…

‘Isn’t that the girlfriend of that idiot… Mark, was it?’

It was about a week ago. She remembered getting in a bad mood after accidentally hearing some country bumpkin girl singing on the street.

How dare a cheap street performer sing an aria she’d never heard performed properly even once.

So, she played a little trick to ensure such an arrogant act wouldn’t happen again.

She had persuaded the girl’s foolish boyfriend to cause a no-show on stage without notice.

An experienced singer could simply find another accompanist, but a naive rookie singer from the countryside wouldn’t have such connections.

She thought that would be the end of it, but…

‘She debuted? And at Eden, no less?’

Ha, really.

The newspaper crumpled miserably in Elena’s grip.

It was truly a day when everything seemed to get on her nerves.

[This is the timeline separator]

“Oh my, Lady Elena.”

The maid exclaimed in admiration as she brushed the powder over the transparent skin.

“You look dazzlingly beautiful today as well.”

Elena smiled faintly as she gazed at herself in the mirror.

Perfectly groomed, gleaming golden hair. Skin like carved white jade, with lips tinted rose.

Although today’s schedule consisted only of rehearsal, she couldn’t neglect her appearance.

“Hmm… Shall we get moving?”

Elena slowly rose.

She knew she was a bit late, but it didn’t matter. The main character always appears last, after all.

“This way, Lady Elena. Everyone is waiting.”

Elena shook her head slightly as she stepped onto the stage, making her platinum blonde hair flutter effectively.

But the expected greetings and praises didn’t come.

‘…What’s going on?’

Elena slowly frowned as she glanced around.

Another blonde woman was already monopolizing attention on the stage.

“Move the cello a bit more this way.”

“Ah… yes.”

“Viola number 9, the strings seem a bit worn.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Is the piano tuning finished?”

“It’s just done now!”

The identity of the woman darting around the stage and interfering was Ariana.

Elena glared at her back in disbelief.

Who does she think she is, bustling about the stage? As if she were the main character.

The orchestra members following her without complaint were equally bewildered.

Elena approached, her heels clicking, and blocked Ariana’s path.

“What’s this, sister? You were here? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why?”

Elena gave a mirthless laugh at the calm question.

“What do you mean, why?”

Elena glanced irritably at the maids following her.

“They can’t even get my water temperature right. I asked for lukewarm water, but they brought it so hot my vocal cords nearly got damaged.”

“Aren’t you a bit old to be fussing over water temperature?”

Elena doubted her ears at the calm voice.

“…What?”

“Being too picky doesn’t look good.”

“What did you say? Ha, this is ridiculous. Is it picky to take care of my own body?!”

As her voice rose in indignation, the orchestra members glanced curiously in their direction.

Elena hurriedly composed her expression, clearing her throat.

Then she whispered at a volume only Ariana could hear.

“What’s wrong with you lately? Sister, you know you’ve changed?”

“Me?”

“Yes! Even the Duke said you seem different from before. You know what the Duke liked about you? That you seemed docile and good at supporting from behind. The Duke probably won’t like you overstepping your role like today−”

“Ugh, damn it.”

At that moment, Edward appeared, clutching his forehead.

His complexion was flushed red, with a terrible smell of alcohol. He even held an unfinished bottle in one hand.

The orchestra members exchanged glances among themselves.

‘The Count doesn’t look well at all.’

‘Oh dear… I wonder who’ll be the sacrificial lamb today.’

Elena wrinkled her nose at the strong whiff of alcohol.

“Brother. How much have you drunk?”

“Damn it. Because of that cursed Rainer bastard.”

“Pardon?”

Elena started at the mention of ‘Rainer’ and glanced around.

Duke Rainer, while not as much as Lucas, was still a major investor in the Lopez Opera House.

“Oh, b-brother. Watch your language.”

Edward cursed under his breath as he rubbed his brow.

His stomach was in turmoil after drinking hard liquor all night.

‘If only that damn bastard hadn’t riled me up.’

Edward took another swig from the bottle to forget his terrible hangover.

The members were startled by his blatant drinking, but not unfamiliar with it.

They just exchanged glances and sighed among themselves.

‘Here we go again…’

‘I wonder if we’ll be able to go home before sunset.’

Edward had a bad habit that surfaced when he drank like this.

And that was…

“What are you all doing! Start playing. Until I tell you to stop!”

The members picked up their instruments with ashen faces.

‘It’s begun.’

‘The hellish merry-go-round.’

It was the start of a nightmarish rehearsal that would not end until Edward’s mood miraculously improved or he passed out.

Edward was the tyrant of this small orchestra. There was one reason he could be:

‘Let’s endure… endure.’

‘At least he composes one good piece.’

‘Geniuses are supposed to be eccentric, right?’

Although Edward Lopez’s personality left much to be desired, no one could deny that the music he produced was excellent.

This piece, ‘Aria of the Adulterer’, despite its somewhat outrageous title, was unanimously agreed to be of top quality.

This opera will surely be a success. And naturally, the fame of the orchestra members would rise with it.

So they had no choice but to stick it out, no matter how dirty and miserable it was.

The performance continued on. Elena shook her head and exited the stage.

The members’ faces grew paler as the performance dragged on.

Among them, Ruben’s face was the palest.

‘My hand hurts…’

Ruben Oliver. 18 years old. The youngest violinist in the Lopez Orchestra.

That morning, Ruben had injured his hand on a collapsing cupboard while making porridge for his mother.

He knew it had rusted during the last rainy season, but hesitated to repair it due to the cost, and now this happened.

He thought it was fine, but his hand hurt every time he drew the bow. Ruben bit his lip hard.

‘I can’t let them find out.’

The opera was less than a month away. Edward wouldn’t wait for his hand to heal. He’d just fire him.

The violin was the only asset his mother, a fallen noble, had left him. The orchestra member’s salary wasn’t much, but it was better than manual labor.

‘I can’t let them find out. I can’t get fired.’

Think of mother’s medicine costs. This month’s rent too. The interest on three months of overdue payments…

Ruben repeated these thoughts every time the pain increased.

But at the same time, another thought grew:

‘What if the injury gets worse if I keep playing like this?’

‘I heard about a pianist who retired because a small injury on his finger from bumping into a doorframe kept getting worse…’

‘It’s okay, it wasn’t a big injury… I’ll go to the doctor right after the performance.’

‘But when will this rehearsal end? It will end, right…?’

As his thoughts spiraled and grew increasingly dire, suddenly:

“Damn it, no, no. I still don’t like it.”

Edward, who had been drinking continuously, suddenly stood up and pointed at the violinists.

“The violin sound is sticking out too much. It’s grating! I thought from the beginning that using this many violins was strange.”

The high proportion of violins in this piece was Ariana’s decision.

Edward’s inferiority complex, brooding over the humiliation of being disregarded by Rainer, exploded darkly in his eyes.

“I should go with my own instincts after all. What’s so great about some wench’s scribbled score… I’ll rewrite it all to my level. Hey, violin number 4, number 5!”

“Yes, what?”

“Huh?”

Ruben looked up in shock.

“You’re fired.”

“What?!”

Ruben jumped to his feet, startled.

“C-Count. What do you mean?!”

“This piece doesn’t need so many violins. I’ve decided, so that’s how it is.”

“B-but!”

Edward glared.

“What. Do you have a complaint?”

Edward rose and began to saunter over.

He still held the half-empty bottle in his hand.

“Does a mere employee dare… No. Does a commoner dare to talk back to a noble?”

“I, I just… Huh?”

Ruben suddenly doubted his eyes.

Edward seemed unaware of the dark shadow that had fallen behind him.

‘Lady Elena…?’

No, the hair was platinum blonde, but the atmosphere was completely different.

A woman with a calm demeanor like a daffodil walked behind Edward and raised her arm high.

‘…Huh?’

‘No way?’

A few other members noticed the anomaly and widened their eyes.

“Don’t you know how terrible the crime of insulting nobility is? You little bast− Urk!”

Thwack.

With a resolute sound, Edward’s neck snapped forward.

“……”

“……”

Silence fell over the stage that had been resonating with instrument sounds.

Everyone had frozen in place.

In a world where time seemed to have stopped, only Ariana slowly walked out.

With a gleaming white flute in one hand.