“What do you mean by that?”
Maylily stared at the Earl of Everscourt, her expression frozen like someone who had just been slapped.
“I plan to send letters wherever you go. I cannot allow the woman who rejected me to become someone else’s singer.”
The man who had already shattered her present was now smiling as he threatened to destroy her future too. That smile was so graceful, it sent chills down her spine.
He had the power to shape lives as if they were clay, and he showed no sign of guilt in doing so. His threat was no bluff.
Faced with such obsession, Maylily felt a lump rise in her throat. Fear shimmered in her pale blue eyes and tears spilled quietly down her cheeks.
“That will never happen. I swear to you, I promise.”
Throwing herself at his feet, Maylily dropped to her knees and begged through her tears. Still, the man’s flawless face remained unmoved, slowly drowning her in despair.
“You will break eventually.”
“No. I never will.”
The sorrow in her chest made it impossible to finish her sentence. She thought of her family, who had spent years supporting her through hardship. She thought of the dream she had carefully nurtured for so long. Singing was her greatest love and her only hope that one day her life could shine.
“Do not cry, Maylily Aile.”
Sitting above her, the Earl calmly pulled a folded handkerchief from his coat and handed it to her.
“I am not someone who gives in to a woman’s tears. You will only waste them.”
His words were cold, yet his tone was gentle, like a parent soothing a child. The smile on his lips made him look like a devil wearing the face of an angel.
Maylily knew better than to provoke him now. She took the handkerchief with trembling hands and wiped away her tears, trying to steady her breath.
Then his voice came again, soft and smooth, brushing her ear like a whisper.
“I always get what I want. So let’s not waste any more time.”
At that moment, a harsh truth settled in. She could no longer expect mercy or kindness from this man. The clarity helped her gather what little calm she had left.
Maylily stopped crying and turned her gaze toward the window.
The city of Roden, once so familiar, now seemed foreign from this height. The towering buildings and massive trees below looked like miniatures. The sky, once so distant, now seemed just within reach.
This view that seemed so wondrous to her was something the Earl had likely seen every day.
He was a man used to looking down on the world. And Maylily was now part of that world beneath his gaze.
With that realization, the new reality he had forced into her hands began to settle in.
Her breath quieted. She looked back at him, her eyes calm but resolute.
“I will accept your offer. But I need one promise.”
The Earl gave a small nod. Maylily took a deep breath and spoke slowly, her voice steady. She hoped with all her heart that he would be a man of honor.
“Please promise me that you will never force me to share your bed.”
“My singer seems quite confident in her own appeal.”
At any other time, Maylily would have flushed with embarrassment at his sarcasm. But now her eyes stayed fixed on his, unwavering. This was too important to ignore.
The Earl looked into her determined face for a long moment. Then his smile faded.
“Fine. I promise.”
Outside the window, beneath the fading smoke, the woman who had left the office a few minutes earlier came into view. She stepped out from the front portico of the hotel and slowly walked to the fountain, where she sat wearily on a bench.
Though her outfit was plain to the point of dullness, her hair shimmered with a distinct golden hue as if it had absorbed all the surrounding light. As Hugh quietly exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke, he watched her face through the wisps, her forehead barely visible beneath her fluttering bangs.
“Maylily Aile.”
A white lily of the valley.
The name slipped out of him unconsciously, and in that moment he thought it suited her perfectly. Aile, derived from an old word meaning white, seemed to belong to her.
Her cheeks were smooth and pale like flower petals. Her eyes, clear and blue, resembled dew glistening on those petals. Without a trace of makeup, her delicate face held a gentle and pure beauty. She looked like a lily blooming in a quiet forest.
At their first meeting, she had been a courtesan on stage. At their second, a waitress in a modest eatery. And now, in their third, she had finally become what she truly was—the discarded daughter of Victor Heywood.
Beautiful, fragile, and insignificant. Maylily Aile.
Born of a contemptible man, yet carrying a face untouched by the ugliness of the world. That contrast only made her more unbearable to look at.
Still, she remained innocent.
No matter how often he reminded himself, the cruel impulse stirring inside him refused to settle. Hugh watched her as if seeing her for the first time, examining every detail of her with slow, deliberate focus. Knowing his gaze would shame her only made him more persistent.
Her small nose curved like a blossom, the soft lips marked with a tiny mole beneath, the slender wrist slipping out from her worn sleeve, the graceful outline of her figure beneath her coat—each feature demanded attention. Then he remembered the soft white skin he had imagined filling his palm.
She had a sensual figure that contrasted sharply with her innocent face. If dressed properly and placed on the marriage market, she could be sold for a high price despite her background. She was a rare and valuable product.
Victor Heywood had missed that chance. And now, under Hugh’s design, she was about to be branded with an irreversible flaw.
He wondered what Victor would feel when he discovered his daughter and the truth at once.
One thing was clear. The beautiful face of Maylily Aile, so much like Heywood’s own, would become the symbol of his downfall. The grief of losing something he never truly had would be the final blow.
This was a mistake often made by fools chasing luck, confusing what was almost theirs with what truly belonged to them.
The smoke drifted away, and Hugh’s thoughts faded with it. The girl remained seated just as before, gently wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. It seemed the tears she had held back in his presence were finally falling.
“I will wash this and return it to you.”
Considering everything she had just gone through, tearing up the handkerchief would have been a small relief. Yet the woman, with eyes and nose reddened from crying, simply sniffled and spoke as if she owed Hugh a great debt.
This meeting had revealed something important to him. She was soft-hearted and obedient. Not even a sliver of her father’s cunning or shamelessness lived in her. If she had been as corrupt and calculating as Victor Heywood, things would have gone much more smoothly.
Now she was going to be a bit of a nuisance.
Hugh narrowed his brow slightly and raised the cigar to his lips. Just then, the woman stood from the bench, folded the handkerchief, slipped it into her coat pocket, and unexpectedly lifted her gaze toward the window where Hugh was standing.
Facing the sunlight pouring in from behind the hotel, her eyes narrowed slightly, then returned to their original shape. Hugh paused, the cigar still at his lips, and met her gaze.
She stood below him, looking up into the bright afternoon light without even raising a hand to shade her eyes. Her eyes sparkled like stars.
Then, recognizing him, she slowly closed and reopened her eyes. Instead of looking away in embarrassment, she brought her hands together politely and gave a slight bow in his direction.
A low breath of amusement slipped from Hugh’s slightly parted lips.
Her voice echoed in his mind.
“Please promise me that you will never force yourself on me.”
The naive boldness of trying to bind him with a promise that held no weight had been ridiculous. Yet Hugh had accepted it without hesitation. After all, it would never be his role to make her surrender.
With that demure face, she had caught him off guard and walked away. Only after she disappeared from sight, hidden behind the line of trees past the hotel gates, did the tip of Hugh’s cigar burn red again.
She might be a bother, but this was about to get very interesting.
