What she pulled out was a palm-sized instrument.

Dante raised one eyebrow.

There were many composers who would throw themselves at him, willing to offer their bodies just to sell a song.

But no one had ever presented such a tiny instrument without an orchestra, singer, or even a piano.

Was this confidence or impudence?

‘We’ll see.’

The instrument, which looked like a miniaturized piano, had silver keys neatly protruding.

Fingers more delicate than the keys began to gently caress them.

Perhaps it was because the continuous movements were as natural as flowing water.

The woman had the power to make the sudden action not seem out of place at all.

Ariana’s performance began abruptly and unexpectedly like that.

“……”

A clear, beautiful sound resonated through the space.

Delicate and soft, like water droplets spreading.

Before the first reverberation faded, she plucked the next key. And once more, then again.

With each movement of her slender fingers, a brilliant note followed like footprints.

Ariana effortlessly intertwined combinations that no arts professor would teach as harmony, then scattered them like a mirage.

The sound of Dante’s aide inhaling sharply and covering his mouth was heard.

Dante slowly rested his chin on his hand and gazed at the woman.

Her eyelashes, lowered towards the keys, were neat.

A calm and composed expression despite playing music that could enchant the ears.

Delicate features and fingers dancing neatly on the keys.

Ariana’s movements were like a series painted by a master with elegant brushstrokes.

Ten seconds, and another ten seconds. And many more tens of seconds melted away.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced.

“Um, if you can’t sleep… shall I sing you a lullaby?”

A youthful voice intruded like an uninvited guest, mixing with the music to create dissonance.

The performance ended as he frowned.

It was an abrupt ending, like a snowflake melting the moment it touches one’s hand.

“……”

Ariana slowly raised her head. Her calm gaze silently turned to Dante.

As the last trace of sound faded away, the silence that filled the void was damp like the moisture left after snow melts.

Ariana quietly swallowed dry saliva.

Dante said nothing.

She hadn’t expected applause, but at least some minimal critique.

The silence was a little, no, much longer than she had anticipated.

Finally, Ariana quietly came to think:

‘Could it be… that it wasn’t good?’

She recalled old memories.

In this life, today was her first meeting with Dante, but it wasn’t so before she died.

“The real ‘master’ of Lopez Opera House. It’s you, isn’t it?”

A voice that casually uncovered a secret no one knew.

“Count Lopez, why are you allowing your foolish kin to ruin your treasure?”

The only person who realized that all the music of Lopez Opera House actually came from the hands of Ariana Fedegrin, the ‘odd-job worker’ at the opera house whom no one paid attention to.

Because it was him, she thought he would recognize it this time too.

‘Was it my arrogance?’

Moreover, this piece, ‘The End of Snowflakes,’ was one of her compositions that had received an explosively positive response.

‘But art is, after all… a matter of taste.’

Even if a work was highly praised by many, there was no rule that it would be so for everyone.

It seems it wasn’t to his taste.

As Ariana was thinking this, unconsciously lowering her gaze, it happened.

“Rio.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

At the sudden voice, Ariana raised her head.

Even while calling someone else’s name, Dante was staring at her.

He slowly brought the cigarette to his mouth. Without lighting it.

Then he gestured to the young man called Rio.

“Ah, yes!”

Rio, moving nimbly, took out a white paper and pen from his briefcase and handed them to the man.

Dante scribbled something on it and pushed it towards Ariana.

Ariana looked down at the paper on the table with wide eyes.

She could see numbers written in a powerful handwriting.

A number with an unimaginably large number of zeros.

‘…500 million?’

100 million Cardina would be about a year’s salary for a typical middle-class family.

Five times that amount.

While blankly staring at the check with 500 million written on it and the signature below, Dante spoke.

“Hand it over. Including the full score and part scores as conditions.”

I looked at Dante with surprised eyes.

“……”

500 million Cardina for just one song.

It was an unbelievably generous offer.

Of course, I know the value of my music is outstanding.

But cases where a single piece is traded for hundreds of millions were extremely rare. Only the greatest maestros of the era sold their works for such prices.

I once again realized how generous Dante could be. …And, at the same time, this was.

‘He’s acknowledging my work that much.’

It was tantamount to Dante officially recognizing that my music was worth this much.

Thump, thump.

My heart began to beat faster. This wave spreading through my chest, perhaps it was an emotion called joy.

‘No. Don’t give it meaning.’

That man is a businessman.

I provided the music, and he put a price on it. That’s all. Emotions are unnecessary in this process.

I learned through death that unnecessary emotions are useless.

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.

“Thank you, Your Excellency. But this is not the compensation I desire.”

“Not enough?”

Dante raised one eyebrow.

I hastily shook my head once more.

“I don’t mean I want money. What I really want is……”

This is where it really begins.

I took a slight deep breath and met Dante’s eyes.

“The position of your wife, Your Excellency.”

There was a moment of silence.

The cigarette fell from the man’s lips with a soft thud. The man called Rio opened his eyes so wide they seemed about to pop out.

After a few seconds of silence, Dante slowly rubbed his face and looked up at the ceiling.

“What is this.”

Dante muttered, glaring at the ceiling.

I felt my entire body tense up with nervousness.

Dante slowly continued speaking.

“You want to become my wife for offering just one song?”

“It may seem, no, it is very absurd, but please hear me out.”

I quickly continued.

“Have you ever listened to the music of Lopez Opera House?”

“Opera?”

Dante slightly furrowed his brow.

“I have no interest in such pretentious stage performances.”

“……”

This answer was unexpected.

Before I died, Dante Heigenberg had come to scout me a total of five times.

‘Perhaps he hadn’t developed an interest yet at this time.’

“But I’ve heard that those pretentious nobles have been pouring money into that place recently.”

That’s good enough.

I let out a small sigh of relief.

“All the music of Lopez Opera House was composed by me.”

“……”

A slight crack appeared in Dante’s eyes.

He turned to his aide with a sharp gaze.

The young man called Rio answered promptly with a flustered face.

“It’s known that all the music of Lopez Opera House is composed by Count Lopez, but……”

“That’s not true.”

I said firmly.

“I composed all the music, and my brother, Count Lopez, only made slight variations to it.”

Rio’s eyes widened.

I took a gentle deep breath and said.

“I’d like the music I just played for you to serve as proof.”

It was a bold statement.

The confidence, perhaps bordering on audacity, that the quality of the music I played would prove my words.

My heart fluttered for a moment, but fortunately, Dante didn’t mock me.

Instead, he stared intently into my eyes and then…

“Ha.”

He let out a deep scoff.

Dante leaned his upper body forward. His red eyes, now closer, glinted like those of a predatory bird.

“Alright. Tell me honestly.”

“……”

“I am intrigued. Because you seem interesting.”

His intense gaze penetrated me, as if it could see through my skin into my innermost thoughts.

Thump.

My heart trembled slightly, whether from nervousness or relief.

‘It’s working. For now.’

I had succeeded in holding his attention for these ten seconds.

Whether it was five years in the future or now, the evaluation of Dante remained consistent.

A man who doesn’t even glance at anything boring.

And almost miraculously, like a ghost, things he found tedious soon lost their vitality, while those that piqued his interest soared as if on wings.

Before the interest glinting in Dante’s eyes could fade, I quickly opened my mouth.

“I’ll be honest with you, Your Excellency. I want to reclaim the music I composed from my brother. But… as you know, the imperial law…”

“Ah. That outdated law.”

Dante loosened his eyebrows.

“According to that law, unmarried women cannot form any personal property. Including copyrights.”

I opened my eyes slightly wider. It was a statement that accurately pierced the core of what I was trying to convey.

Deep eyes gazed at me.

“So you want to use me as your fence. To prevent that antiquated imperial law from stealing your music and handing it over to your brother. Am I right?”

His voice, grasping the flow of the conversation, was as fluid as a low-sung song.

“…You’ve grasped it precisely.”

With just a few clues, Dante had understood our family situation as if he had examined it with a magnifying glass.

Thanks to this, the conversation could progress much faster than I had anticipated.

Mentally discarding the lengthy speech I had prepared to explain my situation, I opened my mouth.

“But of course, I don’t mean to dare become your real wife for such reasons.”

This seemed to be unexpected, as Dante slightly raised his brow.

“Just one year. You only need to keep me as your wife until I can find a way to protect my music.”

And until I can complete my revenge perfectly.

I swallowed the unspoken inner thoughts.