The Averk District, located north of the Pez River and often called the lifeline of Roden, was a wealthy neighborhood filled with townhouses where nobles stayed during the social season. It was the center of the capital’s high society.
Running through the heart of the district was Averk Street, Roden’s busiest and most luxurious avenue, lined with cultural venues and upscale shops. Even among these grand surroundings, Hugh Skaad’s office stood out. It was located on the top floor of the tallest building on the street, the Skaad Hotel.
“Good afternoon, my lord. Thank you for taking the time to meet me.”
As Maylily Aile stepped through the door that David had opened, she bowed with as much respect as she could.
The Earl of Everscourt sat behind a desk placed slightly off to the side of the large windows that let in the afternoon sunlight. The furniture and decorations around him were not extravagant but gave off a sense of quiet elegance and refined taste.
For a brief moment, Maylily found herself drawn to the unfamiliar view of the city through the window behind him. But then she felt the weight of his gaze and quickly lowered her eyes.
“You are late.”
“Excuse me?”
Startled by the Earl’s unexpected words, Maylily looked up. Their eyes met, and he gave her a faint, knowing smile.
“You should have come to see me before I had to come looking for you.”
“I am sorry.”
The Earl gave a small nod, as if collecting the apology, he believed he was owed. He rose from his chair, and his tall frame cast a large shadow across the floor. The light pouring in behind him made even his smallest movements seem heavy with authority.
“Sit.”
He crossed one leg over the other and gestured toward the seat in front of him. Maylily walked over quietly and sat down. At that moment, an assistant entered and placed tea and refreshments on the table, then stepped away.
After a brief silence, the Earl finally spoke.
“You said you came to ask for my forgiveness.”
“Yes. If you are willing to give me the chance.”
“Then go ahead.”
His voice was calm and unbothered as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
His blue-gray eyes, settled deep beneath straight brows, looked sharp and cold. Though the shape of his eyes gave off a soft impression, the way he looked at her carried the calm arrogance of someone used to power. Maylily could feel her heart pounding harder under his gaze.
She took a long breath to calm herself, then spoke the words she had practiced again and again on the way here.
“If I was rude during our last conversation, it was not because I meant to be. I simply did not know the proper etiquette. Please forgive me. I was caught off guard and didn’t have the presence of mind to express myself clearly. I am truly grateful for the kindness you showed me. It was more than I deserved and…”
“I have a meeting soon, so let us skip the introduction and get to the main point.”
He closed the cover of his pocket watch with a soft snap, cutting her off mid-sentence. He had been fiddling with it as she spoke, listening with only half his attention.
“Have you changed your mind about the sponsorship?”
“What? I… no.”
Maylily had intended to bring up the subject later, after offering her apology and thanks, but he brought it up suddenly. She hesitated, caught off guard, then finally responded in a quiet, steady voice.
“I am sorry, but I still want to succeed through my own effort. That has not changed.”
At her firm answer, the Earl gave a quiet, amused breath. Then he reached over to a small box on the table and took out a cigar. From her last visit, Maylily remembered that this was not a good sign.
As he lit it and exhaled a thick stream of smoke, her anxiety began to grow again.
He spoke slowly, his words calm and deliberate.
“Did you know that Christina Singers had a patron?”
Christina Singers, the prima donna of the century. The sudden mention of a world-famous soprano who had shined brightly half a century ago left Maylily a little confused. She nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“Her sponsor was the late Jeremy Felbert Clarke, the Earl who passed away two years ago. He was a former Speaker of the Senate and a wealthy landowner in eastern Riverton. Both Lord Clarke and Singers were constant subjects of public attention, so there was always gossip surrounding their relationship. Still, every time she stepped on stage, Singers erased the presence of Lord Clarke with her overwhelming skill. People once called her the Earl’s mistress, but after she rose to become Riverton’s greatest prima donna, the title reversed. Lord Clarke became known as ‘Singers’ man.'”
The Earl paused, as if giving Maylily time to process his words. He took a long pull from his cigar. Through the soft curtain of smoke drifting over the table, his cold blue-gray eyes stared directly at her.
“This is what success means for a singer. It does not matter who supported you or what you gave in return. If you prove yourself on stage, the success is yours. That is why the audience always shouts the singer’s name, not the patron’s.”
Maylily believed that many people saw opera singers just as he did. What he said was not wrong. It was practical and grounded in reality. But from the perspective of a singer who might have to pay a price she never agreed to, it was a painful idea. Their lives were not limited to the stage.
“If we are speaking only about outcomes, you might be right. But what I want to protect is not the glory of success. It is the integrity of how I get there. That principle is what guides me.”
“To be honest, I do not understand.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why you are so determined to reject a chance to focus on music without worrying about money.”
Maylily remained silent.
The answer had already been revealed in everything she had said. His question was not sincere. It was a calculated push, an intentional challenge.
When she kept her mouth shut, the Earl gave a slow smirk.
“Are you afraid I am going to ask you to open your legs?”
The way he said it made the words sound worse. His voice was smooth, almost gentle, which only made it more disturbing. A man who looked and acted like a gentleman should not speak that way.
Maylily gasped and quickly grabbed the front of her coat with both hands.
“What? No, that is not what I…”
Her heart was pounding under her fingertips. Her face turned bright red, and her lips trembled. She could not find the words. The Earl placed his cigar in the ashtray and gave a short laugh.
“I must have been right.”
Maylily could not even deny it. She lowered her eyes in silence.
Just like their first meeting, his eyes slowly moved over her. It was a heavy, lingering stare that made her feel as if he were peeling away her layers one by one. Her grip on her coat tightened.
His gaze stopped for a moment on her lips as she nervously ran her tongue over them.
“You are a beautiful woman. I can admit that. But I am not the kind of man who needs to lure women with sponsorship. I am not desperate. I am also not that interested in you.”
Somehow, those words brought both relief and insult. Maylily felt her chest tighten with mixed emotions.
She furrowed her brow and spoke carefully.
“Then does your patronage really have to go to me? There are so many talented singers in the Roden Opera Company. Many of them have experience and confidence on stage. I have not even debuted yet.”
“What interested me was not your rank or status. It was your potential. Everything I invest in must become the best. I saw that possibility in you.”
“But from what I know, you have never actually heard me sing.”
“I had seen you before that day.”
It was not a direct answer to her question, but Maylily chose not to ask anything further. Whatever truth the Earl held, it made no difference now. Her decision would not change, and there was no point in dragging out a conversation that would lead nowhere.
“I appreciate that you see potential in me, but I truly do not think this is right for me. I am sorry.”
She felt ashamed of herself, offering gratitude to the man who had crushed the spring she had longed for with quiet hope. Her heart ached, and tears threatened to rise.
Maylily quickly reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope that held the check.
“And this, I would like to return. It is too much to accept as a tip. I am thankful for your kindness, but I cannot keep it.”
The Earl looked at the envelope resting on the table. Without a word, he raised his cigar to his lips again.
“If there is nothing else, I will take my leave.”
She stood quickly and adjusted her clothes, preparing to bow. Just as she began to lower her head, a calm and cold voice stopped her in place like a hand gripping her throat.
“If you walk out now, there will be no stage left for you to stand on.”
