Chapter 7

"Hahaha..." His laugh sounded so painfully forced.

It was a jagged sound that escaped his throat. The one carried zero restraint whatsoever.

"Wow, looks like this unmarried fair lady with absolutely zero experience in sex and love actually knows a thing or two, huh?"

Damn, crazy. I mean... did he really need to describe it that specifically?

"Too bad, I'm not interested. Or rather..."

"Not yet."

He stepped closer toward me, one hand rising to cover the side of his face as though he wanted to whisper something.

Meanwhile, my curiosity only made me lean in further, breathing in the faint fragrance clinging to his clothes.

Who knew what kind of expressions the two ignored people beside us were making right now.

Inside this cramped private booth that was supposed to serve as my personal waiting room, the two of us instead looked like lovers flirting shamelessly in front of them.

"I want to wait until I see your performance first...

darling."

That whisper felt like a fatal seduction capable of killing me at any moment.

A man like him? Doing this in front of me?

It felt like some impossible dream that should have never existed in the first place.

And for some reason, I enjoyed it.

I merely let out a soft chuckle.

A tiny, adorable laugh escaped me, quiet yet still audible enough.

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"Relax, I won't disappoint you."

"You playboy."

I placed a hand on his slender yet sturdy shoulder,

gently caressing it before finally walking out of the booth.

...

Right now, I stood before the stage.

Watching as everyone had finally gathered.

Mother looked at me and smiled, lightly waving her hand.

"What is it? Feeling nostalgic, Dear Madam?"

Quiet. No communication during the event. Understood?

"Understood. Preference saved."

Okay. Good.

Slowly but surely, I walked toward the center of the stage.

A large classical piano painted in pitch-black, its curved body following the principles of the golden ratio, rested sideways directly before me.

Not long after, I sat down calmly, ignoring the hundreds of eyes staring in my direction.

Hundreds of eyes waiting to witness either the greatest brilliance or the most catastrophic failure of this beautiful young princess.

To be fairly honest,

I knew absolutely nothing about music.

I had never even taken any of formal piano lessons before.

But I often watched that boy play with breathtaking elegance.

He had been my one and only genuine friend in that world.

One by one, those predominantly melancholic black keys resurfaced within my memory, exactly like those beautiful performances I used to watch after school.

He was also the one who taught me this piece, though back then I still had not truly grown accustomed to it.

Even he himself needed nearly half a year just to master the fundamentals of piano.

Then, just like him, I stretched out both of my hands—no longer small, yet still slender and graceful—before these soft, delicate fingers finally began to play. Afterwards, I took a deep breath while trying to recall those quiet piano lessons we used to practice together in secret.

"Haah... fuuh..."

My eyelids closed for the briefest moment, a fraction of a second before all of my fingers mapped out their own position and pressed against the cold, melancholic black keys.

In sharp contrast to this brightly lit morning hall that resembled a lavish formal celebration, the music I played painted the image of a silent, melancholic, and dreadful night.

First movement.

Adagio Sostenuto.

Piano Sonata No. 14

This, too, was something he taught me—no, not through complicated sheets of notation, but rather... through heavy intuition and sharp memory.

The first bass note from my left hand fell like a massive black stone thrown into the center of a silent lake. Instantly, the friction of fabric from hundreds of restless spectators shifting in their seats vanished completely.

The cynical whispers, the dismissive murmurs, even the faint snapping sounds of noblewomen fanning themselves—all of it died midway through motion.

This grand and magnificent hall suddenly lost its noisy, irritating voice.

Yet that silence did not last for long.

It was soon replaced by another wave of hushed murmurs flowing quietly through the rows of seats—a restrained storm of collective speculation. They began whispering among themselves, trying to guess or find some frame of reference for the unfamiliar melody currently being played by the daughter of King Claudius himself.

The structure of this music was far too dark, far too strange for the standards of the royal court.

Several audience members seated near the front frowned slightly, exchanging glances as they attempted to determine from what corner of the world such a gloomy composition could have originated—or since when the princess had learned a piece so intimidating to their senses.

But all those speculations shattered instantly the moment the main melody locked the entire room in place.

Then came a single, small clap arising through the atmosphere.

Followed unconsciously by several more.

Perhaps because they immediately realized who had been the first person to start applauding.

Clap. Clap.

Amidst the suffocating silence, the sound rang out as loudly as a gunshot. Someone was clapping. Just two small, slow, yet steady applauses that shattered the stillness of the auditorium even before my first melody had fully unfolded.

That impulsive action briefly spread like a virus.

Clap, clap, clap.

Several nobles seated in the front rows unconsciously began moving their hands as well, hypnotized by the silent night I had brought onto the stage, losing their senses to the point of forgetting the formal etiquette of the performance.

Yet that small commotion never had the chance to grow even further into roaring applause.

Almost instantly, the other clapping hands died down drastically, silenced within mere seconds.

As if they really wanted to know how the play would continue after quite an opening.

Before they even realized it, they had become invested in the play unfolding before them.

And way before they even realized it, curiosity had already begun consuming them alive.

Waiting for yet another miracle from me.