After their quiet exchange, Phyllis turned to see Annie, Colin, and the others showing signs of wanting to approach and chat with Lucian. She couldn't help but smile faintly — on the surface they seemed driven by curiosity and a desire to congratulate Lucian, but the real motive was probably to build closer ties.
So Phyllis half-shielded Lucian behind her, lightly clapped her hands, and said with a radiant smile: "Ladies and gentlemen, to celebrate Mr. Victor's concert's tremendous success, and to celebrate our fellow student Lucian becoming a recognized genius of the music world, I'd like to invite everyone to a dance at my family's estate this Friday evening. Mr. Victor has already given his approval, and now I'd like to hear your wishes."
In Phyllis's view, thanks to the Moonlight Rose matter, she and Lucian already had a close relationship, so she instinctively didn't want Lucian forming deep friendships with other classmates — keeping this resource to herself would naturally be best. Still, she understood she couldn't interfere with Lucian's life. More frequent interaction, more entanglements and exchanges of benefit — that was the best way to maintain the relationship.
Renie was the first to react, beaming brightly: "Truly? It would be my honor to visit Miss Phyllis's estate."
After she accepted, Lot, Annie, Herodotus, and the others answered in succession.
Phyllis saw that everyone was willing to accept her invitation, so she turned back, maintaining her charming smile: "And what about you, Lucian? Would you like to visit my estate?"
An idea suddenly flashed through Lucian's mind, and he answered with a smile: "Of course. It would be my honor, Phyllis."
Hearing Lucian agree, Renie and the others' expressions seemed to brighten even more.
Just then, a revitalized Victor came downstairs from the second floor carrying a book: "All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's begin our studies. The dance is still several days away."
Lucian casually picked a seat and was about to sit down. As he passed by, Lot leaned close to his ear and whispered: "I've heard that Mackenzie really doesn't like you and might cause trouble. Of course, you're already Her Highness's musical consultant, so he can't make things difficult for you directly. But he could very well set a trap to make you look foolish and tarnish your reputation."
"Thank you, Lot. I'll be careful." Lucian thanked him politely, but he had neither the mood nor the energy to worry about such matters. Rescuing Joel's family was like fighting a fire — with each passing day, the hope of pulling it off successfully grew smaller.
Of course, Lucian knew he couldn't act rashly. He had to patiently wait for the right moment and make every preparation, because this was an extremely dangerous affair. The more one tried to rush it, the harder success became.
So Lucian's current state was like walking a tightrope between two cliffs — on the left was slowness and delay, on the right was impatience and recklessness. Lean either way, and he'd plummet to the bottom and be shattered to pieces. Only by maintaining a perfect, excruciatingly difficult balance could he reach success.
Lucian's study of written language, aided by his extraordinary memory and sound learning methods, was nearly complete — all he lacked was the accumulation of obscure vocabulary. So this afternoon, Lucian, just like Lot, Phyllis, and the others, devoted himself to studying music. For Lucian, immersing himself in learning also helped him stay calm.
Within that calm, combining the intelligence he'd gathered and probed over the past two days, a bold plan gradually took shape in Lucian's mind.
After the study session ended and Lucian returned to his cottage, he packed some more belongings and brought them to the garden villa at 116 Gisu District that he had rented. It looked like a perfectly normal, gradual move — so by evening, the white slip of paper contained only a single line: "Mr. Evans, when you go to Ratasha Palace tomorrow, be sure to keep your wits about you and don't do anything foolish, or you will bear the consequences yourself."
…………
A quiet night passed quickly. Lucian used forced calm and the rudimentary hypnotic knowledge he'd picked up from studying the "Eye of Stars" to keep anxiety from robbing him of sleep. He slept soundly and woke feeling refreshed.
"Today is the critical day. Not a single mistake can be allowed!"
The white slip of paper held no new commands. After finishing breakfast, Lucian went to the Musicians' Association, claimed a small practice room, and used piano practice to distract himself and ease his tension.
Perhaps it was the dramatically shifting circumstances of recent days that gave Lucian that sense of being toyed with by fate, with countless hardships and dangers bearing down on him. Perhaps it was because he'd been studying Beethoven's various compositions. Either way, after managing one somewhat fluid rendition of the Fate melody, Lucian rested briefly, then unconsciously launched into Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor — the famous "Pathétique."
It was the crowning achievement of Beethoven's early piano works. Though called "Pathétique," it was actually connected in spirit to the Fate Symphony — using the pathos and sorrow of life to create a tragic atmosphere that set off a thread of iron resolve running through the melody, expressing the heroic spirit of facing suffering and a harsh fate, and the will to struggle unbowed.
Lucian had never practiced this particular sonata before, so even though he could clearly recall every note, his playing was halting and utterly devoid of beauty. Yet that very halting quality resonated even more closely with the complex, contradictory emotions roiling inside him — anxiety, suppression, and forced composure — so Lucian played it again and again, stopping only when he felt utterly exhausted.
Through the catharsis of music, Lucian felt his emotions and mindset had settled into a reasonably stable state, so he left the practice room and went to his private lounge to rest.
At ten thirty, a knock sounded at the lounge door, and Elena's voice came through:
"Lucian, Her Highness's carriage has arrived to pick you up."
Hearing this, Lucian slowly rose from the armchair and replied: "Very well, Elena. I'll be right down."
After straightening his black jacket and white shirt with its wide lace cuffs, Lucian stared at his own black-haired, dark-eyed reflection in the mirror for thirty seconds. Then he walked out of the lounge and descended to the first-floor hall with a calm, steady composure.
The carriage Natasha had sent was deep purple, bearing the Violet family crest — understated on the outside, opulent within. Sitting inside, Lucian felt not the slightest bump or jostle. The dark yellow carpet, imported from Tria, created a warm atmosphere, but Lucian maintained an upright, rigid posture, leaving untouched the blood-red wine and other items set on the small table before him.