Chapter 40
“When,” Charlotte’s sharp voice suddenly rang through the room, “did I ever say you could play the piece from your necklace?”
Startled, Jaina quickly closed the pendant. Charlotte, who had been watching her with narrow, piercing eyes, spoke again.
“Let’s not start with a performance. I’d like to see the student’s skill first.”
“Yes, I’m still lacking a lot, but I’ll try to play.”
Jaina placed her small hands on the keyboard. Soon, her clumsy little fingers began to move across the wide harpsichord keys.
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed as she watched. Even when she had spoken sharply, the girl had behaved obediently—clearly not a difficult child to handle.
‘How irritating. Those blue eyes…’
That same color as the Tower Lord’s made her uneasy, stirring ominous thoughts.
‘Ah… Tower Lord…’
At the mere thought of him, Charlotte felt her heart quicken. She exhaled slowly, trying to compose herself. She hadn’t cared about the child’s performance from the start, anyway.
“Stop.”
When Jaina halted her hands, Charlotte frowned deeply and continued coldly,
“I don’t like to say such things, but… you don’t even have the basics. This isn’t a performance—it’s noise pollution.”
Her words were graceful in tone yet sharp as blades.
On the outside, she looked every bit the refined noble lady of the capital, but the words from her beautiful lips were nothing short of verbal abuse.
Izren’s eyes hardened.
‘How can she say that to a ten-year-old?’
He wanted to speak up right then but restrained himself. Diamid had ordered him not to interfere unless Jaina herself said something.
“And how does it feel,” Charlotte asked in a mocking tone, “to make such a performance—or should I say, such a childish racket?”
Even so, Jaina answered calmly, without taking offense.
“I’ll work hard to learn from you, teacher, until I improve.”
“Learn? Hah. With skills like that, it’ll take you over ten years to play properly.”
As time went on, her rudeness only grew worse—almost unbearable. Izren finally turned sharply toward her, glaring.
“Oh my, what’s with that look?”
Charlotte’s eyes widened in outrage at the sight of a nonhuman glaring at her.
The two exchanged fierce gazes, tension crackling in the air.
Sensing the moment about to explode, Jaina quickly spoke up.
“Then, Teacher, do you think it’s meaningless for me to learn the harpsichord? I don’t think I have to be perfect.”
Ten years—such a span meant little to Jaina. She didn’t have that kind of future ahead of her. She just wanted, somehow, to play her song with her own hands.
“You speak well for your age,” Charlotte sneered. “But with that lazy attitude, you’ll never truly master any instrument.”
As if slightly provoked, she pushed Jaina aside and sat down at the bench herself. Then she began to play.
Her ten long, elegant fingers moved dazzlingly fast, and a beautiful melody poured from the harpsichord—enchanting enough to captivate anyone who listened.
Jaina gazed up quietly at Charlotte, who was completely absorbed in the music.
When the performance ended, Charlotte lifted her chin proudly.
“Well? How did my performance sound to you, student?”
“You look really amazing when you play the harpsichord, Teacher.”
Jaina’s eyes sparkled as she spoke the compliment with utter sincerity.
There wasn’t a hint of flattery, and that honesty made Charlotte’s face tighten. She had expected the girl to shrink in humiliation—but instead, this calm, pure admiration disarmed her.
Charlotte abruptly stood up.
“Hmph. At least you have some taste. Anyway, if you really want to learn harpsichord, you’ll do exactly as I say. Not that you’ll ever reach my level.”
“Yes, I’ll work even harder.”
“Since it’s your first day, we’ll stop here for now.”
When Jaina nodded obediently, Charlotte huffed in irritation, muttered something under her breath, and stormed out of the room.
Once her footsteps faded, Izren spoke carefully.
“Are you all right? That woman—your teacher…”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m actually happy to have a teacher. I didn’t know what to do learning on my own.”
Despite Charlotte’s arrogance and harsh words, Jaina’s expression was brighter than usual. Izren tilted his head, watching her curiously for a while.
The Mage Tower had been unusually busy lately, even though it wasn’t research submission season.
Jaina’s birthday was only a few days away.
“Jaina, when’s your birthday?”
“Oh, now that you mention it… it’s coming up soon.”
When Hilbenzia and Michael accidentally found out, they didn’t just let it pass. They’d been bustling for days, preparing a grand birthday party.
Michael, in particular, looked uncharacteristically nervous.
“Don’t… don’t expect too much, okay?”
“Expect what?”
“A… a birthday present…”
He avoided her eyes awkwardly as he spoke.
“Huh?”
“I-I mean, don’t compare it to what the Tower Lord gave you—or complain if it’s not as good!”
With that, Michael snapped and turned his back on her.
“I don’t really need a present… And why bring up the Tower Lord?”
“He gave you a room, an instrument… even assigned you a personal maid!”
“That was just to help me learn music better, wasn’t it? Besides, you found me a teacher.”
“Still counts as a gift. And that teacher was only available because of the Tower Lord’s name…”
Is he upset because he wants to give me something special but can’t?
“Is that why you look so down?”
Jaina couldn’t help but giggle softly. Her laughter made Michael flare up.
“Who said I’m down?!”
“Michael, a gift is about the thought behind it. If I gave you a small, humble birthday gift, would you laugh at it?”
“…You—you’d give me a birthday present?”
The gloom vanished from his face in an instant, his expression brightening like a puppy’s ears perking up.
Jaina found it adorable and lowered her gaze with a shy smile.
“I don’t have much, so my gift would surely be modest compared to yours. You might not like it.”
“I’d never think that!”
Jaina looked up at him gently, and Michael twitched his eyebrows nervously.
“W-what?”
“I heard this is the busiest time of year for magicians, right?”
She’d overheard the Tower mages talking about it at the dining hall and worried about him—how he still made time to plan her birthday despite his workload.
“I really appreciate that…”
“Don’t say it!”
“Mmph—!”
Michael suddenly stretched out both hands and pinched her soft, mochi-like cheeks.
“You’re too smug! Smug and—ugh—so smug!”
“Mmph!”
Smug? About what?
Her face scrunched up in confusion, which only made him laugh harder.
“Your silly face.”
“Well, since we’re cousins, of course I resemble you a little.”
Meaning, if I’m silly-looking, so are you.
Of course, the two didn’t actually resemble each other. Michael was as striking and radiant as a summer rose, while Jaina’s face was gentle and sweet.
But instead of pointing that out, Michael focused on something else—her choice of words. It was clear he really wanted her to call him brother.
“Hey, I asked you before! Won’t you ever call me ‘big brother’?”
“It just feels awkward to say.”
“Turtles feel awkward too, but they still live in the sea.”
Jaina frowned at his nonsense.
“You weren’t trying to be funny, were you?”
“You idiot!”
Michael’s face flared red as he covered it with a hand, fidgeting in embarrassment. Seeing that, Jaina chuckled sweetly.
“Uh…”
Has she ever smiled that brightly before?
He had been about to scold her, but seeing her so radiant, Michael forgot all about being angry.
Not far away, Hilbenzia watched the scene with her hand over her mouth.
To think the great Michael Bellafanian would turn into such a fool someday.
Well, she wasn’t much better off herself.
In truth, she still hadn’t chosen a birthday gift for Jaina either. The Tower Lord had already given her everything she might need under the pretext of “music lessons.”
What is the Tower Lord really thinking…?
She didn’t know what had happened between him and Jaina, but breaking the Tower’s long-standing rules for that child—it was excessive if it was just for lessons.
Whatever the reason, one thing was clear: something had changed in him.
Anyway… what should I get her that she’ll really like?
Looking at Jaina with soft, fond eyes, Hilbenzia sighed.
“I want to play the piece called ‘A.’”
When a student says that, most teachers start with that very piece—it helps motivate them more than dry theory or drills. If the student’s a beginner, you start with easy parts, step by step, until they grow comfortable with the instrument.
But in Charlotte’s harpsichord class, such common sense didn’t apply.
“As long as I’m your teacher,” Charlotte declared, “my word is absolute.”
