The stage was brightly lit, but in contrast, the audience seats were lost in darkness. It was difficult to read the expression on the young man standing in the shadows.
Martin kept glancing nervously at the man’s face, which was fully revealed beneath his neatly swept black hair and sharp, well-defined features. Carefully, he spoke.
“How is she, Lord Everscourt? Would you like a recommendation, perhaps…”
“One moment.”
The Earl of Everscourt raised his hand slightly as he leaned toward the secretary who had approached him. The graceful simplicity of his gesture made Martin fall silent without even realizing it.
The earl’s expression grew serious as he listened to the whispered words.
No matter how composed they acted, in the end, they were only here to choose a woman to share their bed.
These men came claiming to look for singers to sponsor, but it was always the face they focused on more than the voice. Their hidden intentions were obvious.
It was a little surprising that this young nobleman had joined the same line of hedonists.
Hugh Skaad. Head of the House of Everscourt and CEO of Skaad Enterprises.
He carried two brilliant titles, one representing the pride of an ancient noble family, the other the power of modern wealth.
After inheriting his title, he spent two years in the military, then a year abroad for business. He had returned to the country just a few weeks ago.
Even while he was away from high society, the media constantly reported on his impressive business achievements and, even more often, on his striking appearance.
Thanks to that, his reputation in social circles never faded.
A perfect noble. A born businessman. The most eligible bachelor.
Despite all the praise surrounding him, seeing the earl here choosing a woman just like the others reminded Martin that even the most refined nobleman was still just a man.
“The blonde woman in the sky-blue dress, behind the right-hand sofa. I will take her.”
Martin quickly scanned the extravagant stage, where nobles and courtesans mingled in celebration, and found the woman the earl had chosen. A quiet sigh escaped him.
“Oh no…”
Of all people, it had to be Maylily.
She was still a newcomer who had not even had her official debut. And she had already refused sponsorship twice.
Martin still remembered how difficult it had been to calm the nobles who were furious after being rejected by her. Just thinking about it made him break into a sweat.
“She is quite new, Your Lordship. I am concerned she may not meet your high standards.”
“That does not matter. Call her.”
His voice was soft but firm.
Martin let out a resigned breath. All he could do now was hope that the earl’s good looks and powerful status would be enough to make Maylily give in.
“Very well. I will escort her to the dressing room immediately.”
The sound of heels striking the marble floor of the hallway suddenly stopped. Martin Fritz, the director, turned and looked back at Maylily Aile, who had been following him at a respectful distance.
“Lord Hugh Skaad of House Everscourt is asking for you.”
Maylily looked confused. She had been pulled out of rehearsal without warning and had no idea what was going on.
“Lord Everscourt?”
“Yes. It seems he was impressed by your rehearsal performance and has expressed interest in sponsoring you.”
Her question had simply been about a name she did not recognize, but the director ignored it and continued talking. He assumed she already knew who the earl was.
“He is not like those other nobles. If you offend him, I will not be able to protect you. In fact, I will be the first to make sure you face the consequences.”
“But Director, I—”
“No excuses. If you have no intention of staying a chorus member forever, then stop talking and make sure you please him.”
In the opera company, singers were divided into soloists and chorus members. Chorus members usually performed in background roles or as minor characters, while soloists took on lead roles. Soloists made up less than twenty percent of the company, which meant the competition to become one was intense.
To survive in such a competitive world, talent alone was not enough. Singers often needed powerful sponsors who could support them and help them advance. That was why many performers accepted sponsorships, whether they wanted to or not.
“I trust you will not make the same foolish mistake of letting pride get in the way again.”
His stern words ended, and the sound of his footsteps resumed. Maylily parted her lips slightly but couldn’t bring herself to speak. The words lingered on the tip of her tongue but stayed unspoken.
“This is Maylily Aile. In her first year with the Fordshire Opera Company, she took on a lead role and quickly made a name for herself. We expect her to take on even greater roles here at the Roden Opera Company. As you can see, she is also very beautiful.”
Normally, the director was not generous with praise, but now he spoke as if he were trying to sell off prized merchandise. Maylily stood beside him, clearly uncomfortable, quietly fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
“I would like to speak with Miss Aile alone.”
The man’s voice was softer and calmer than Maylily had expected. She had imagined him to be cold and intimidating.
“Of course. Please speak comfortably.”
The director stepped away without hesitation, silently reminding Maylily once again that the man in front of her was someone of high status. She swallowed nervously and bowed before the Earl of Everscourt.
“Good afternoon. I am Maylily Aile.”
The man sitting on the reception sofa appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He leaned back, one leg crossed over the other, with a relaxed posture that seemed both arrogant and elegant. In every way, he looked like a nobleman.
Light reflected off his neatly styled black hair, sliding down his smooth forehead and along the bridge of his tall nose. It cast a cool shadow on one side of his sharply defined face. His gray-blue eyes moved slowly, examining Maylily from head to toe.
His gaze was focused and unblinking, as if he were evaluating something. It made her uncomfortable. She lowered her head slightly, and the neckline of her costume revealed a hint of her pale chest. The outfit, which had seemed fine on stage for her courtesan role, suddenly felt too revealing.
She could feel his gaze on her chest, rising and falling with each breath. It burned against her skin. For a moment, she felt the urge to run away. Or maybe just collapse and hide.
There was something in his eyes that stirred a sense of shame in her. It was not the open lust she had seen from other men. It was something colder and harder to define. She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again, hoping to shake off the feeling.
“Come and sit.”
After what felt like a long time, the earl finally spoke. His tone was still polite, unlike the sharpness of his gaze.
Maylily sat down quietly across from him, folding her hands neatly on her lap.
“Do you know why I asked to see you?”
“Yes. The director said you wanted to talk about sponsoring me.”
The earl gave a small nod and got straight to the point.
“Do you have any conditions?”
“Oh, well…”
“If it is hard to say, I can offer my terms first.”
The director’s warning still echoed in her mind, but Maylily had no intention of accepting something she did not want. It was better to refuse clearly from the start. She tightened her hands and spoke with determination.
“I mean no offense, but I do not wish to be sponsored. I am sorry.”
Her voice trembled slightly, but her meaning was clear. The earl looked at her and let out a small, amused laugh.
“Interesting. I didn’t expect a refusal.”
The Earl sat up straight, as if he had just discovered something amusing. He took a cigar from a silver case, placed it between his lips, and lit it.
Smoking in front of someone who didn’t smoke was impolite, but the Earl seemed completely unconcerned.
After all, Maylily was neither a noble nor a lady.
A cloud of smoke drifted between them, blurring her vision for a moment before it cleared. His expression remained unchanged, but Maylily sensed instinctively that his mood had shifted.
She tried to swallow her anxiety along with the cough rising in her throat. Then the Earl asked quietly,
“Are you really satisfied with where you are now? You didn’t leave Fordshire chasing the dream of a chorus singer, did you?”
“Even if it takes a long time, I want to reach the top on my own. A place I earn through my own effort will mean more to me.”
“How naive.”
There was no trace of mockery in his voice, but in the city, being called naive was rarely a compliment.
Maylily had a bad feeling. His blue-gray eyes held a flicker of sarcasm as they studied her darkening expression.
“Even if audiences have become more diverse recently, you must know that opera has always belonged to the nobility. Their desire to keep high culture to themselves is what has driven the art form forward. It’s because of that world that singers like you even have a stage to perform on.
And you think you can live in that world and somehow stay untouched by noble influence? You believe you can stand alone?”
“It won’t be easy, but I don’t believe it’s impossible. There are people who’ve done it.”
“Perhaps.”
Maylily said nothing.
“You’re not young enough anymore to believe the world works just the way it appears to.”
She felt no need to be understood by a man who looked down on her values. She only wanted this conversation to end so she could return to the rehearsal stage.
“Even if the world doesn’t match my beliefs, that won’t change my decision.”
The Earl took a long pull on the cigar, his cheeks hollowing as he inhaled deeply. As he exhaled a stream of smoke, his eyes traveled slowly over her face and body once again.
The look made her face burn with shame, but he only smiled faintly.
“You’ll regret it.”
