Chapter 80
Another 20-minute intermission.
Now the only performance left is Aria.
Since it’s the final performance, we’ve paid special attention to it, and so this time the break is longer.
There are more than a few devices to set up.
While I waited backstage with Aria, Victor approached.
“Well, well! So this is Aria, the girl who’s all the rage among classical music enthusiasts!”
What is he saying?
Victor already met Aria once before.
That time, through my introduction—kind of as a side note.
And yet, for some reason, he greeted her as if it were their first meeting, exaggerating the gesture.
“Ah-haha… that’s embarrassing…”
Aria squirmed shyly, clearly pleased.
At first I thought Victor was being strange, but turns out he did it on purpose?
He must have quickly grasped Aria’s personality—that she loves compliments so much it practically makes her melt.
Maybe he has a younger sister or something.
Anyway—
“Classical music enthusiast? That’s a thing?”
“You didn’t know?”
Victor began to explain.
The hobbies people can enjoy in this world are fairly limited.
And most of them revolve around music.
Ninety-nine percent love music.
Among them are people who dive far deeper than others—those who study it thoroughly and pursue it more seriously than just a hobby.
They don’t perform, but from the perspective of a listener, they evaluate and appreciate music and share their thoughts with others.
In modern terms, I guess you could call them critics.
In high society, these people are referred to as enthusiasts.
For the record, Victor just made up the term “classical.”
He said it gives it a more dignified feel or something.
Apparently, there are even gatherings—like modern-day clubs—organized by these people.
“They’re social gatherings where they meet regularly to talk about music appreciation.”
“How do you know about that?”
Considering he’s been keeping his distance from high society lately…
Of course, I didn’t actually say that last part.
Not because I wanted to dismiss him.
I was just curious.
“I overheard the students talking.”
“Ah.”
Well, whether noble or not, all the students are from noble families.
So they must have heard or seen something.
Or maybe Victor himself used to be a part of that club.
Victor added one more comment.
“The person most talked about in those gatherings is Aria. The girl you’re mentoring.”
“Oh?”
I thought he was just making it up to puff up her ego—but it’s real?
So basically, Aria is the gallery star of this world’s version of an online music forum.
But then…
“Why?”
Why Aria and not me?
It’s not jealousy—just pure curiosity.
When it comes to piano and music, wasn’t it always Anton?
Feels weird to say this myself, but I’m still very much alive and kicking—how could the next generation suddenly take over like this?
This is not something I can just brush off.
There must be a reason why Aria gets mentioned more than me in those social gatherings.
I can think of a few possibilities.
After Aria’s debut, there was a sudden increase in people recognizing her.
That may have been a sign.
Some even came to the manor looking for her.
Those were the crazy ones.
That’s died down a bit these days, but according to Theo’s reports, there are still people who send letters.
They’re nothing serious.
Just simple fan letters saying they love her singing, or asking when her next performance will be.
Of course, I had a part in how things turned out.
When we released Jubel, we bundled in a limited edition with her voice message.
“Thank you so much for loving my voice! I’ll sing even harder for all of you!”
That was it.
And yet nobles and commoners alike went absolutely wild to get it.
In the end, it was a massive success.
The profit came back to us in full.
We saved that money and founded the academy.
And now Aria stands once again on the festival stage held by that very academy…
“Is this what they call the butterfly effect?”
Anyway—
At one point, Aria was the idol of the Capital, and it seems that trend is still ongoing.
Music now isn’t just limited to piano anymore.
There’s singing too.
The problem is that Aria’s the only singer.
But maybe that’s what makes her so special.
The phrase “When you think of piano, you think of Anton” is more of a joke nowadays.
But when it comes to Aria—
It’s different.
For now at least, she is the music.
Because there’s no substitute.
In ancient Greece, when you said “doctor,” people immediately thought of Hippocrates.
When you said “philosopher,” it was always Socrates.
Now, when it comes to singing—it’s Aria.
And besides, isn’t she adorable?
Sometimes she’s so cheeky I feel like pinching her, but just looking at her calmly, she’s like a soft, round steamed bun.
For those who don’t know her well, it’s only natural they’d find her charming.
Of course.
The fact that she’s mentioned more than me among enthusiasts?
Thinking about it, it’s not even that strange.
I glanced sideways at Aria, whose lips were trembling slightly beside me.
Lip trill.
A kind of warm-up technique that relaxes the vocal cords and stabilizes the voice.
I heard somewhere that singers often use it for vocal training and to relieve tension, so I taught it to her.
At first, she couldn’t even last a few seconds.
Now she can easily go for 20 to 30 seconds.
Then she suddenly stood up and stretched.
Even with her arms stretched high, she still barely reached my shoulder.
She twisted her body a few times side to side, and when it seemed like she was ready, she looked up at me.
“Shall we go up soon?”
“Yes! I mean—yes, sir!”
Where did you even learn to answer like that?
Let’s just move on.
I shouldn’t overlook things like this every time, or she’ll get spoiled—but I suppose she’s just really excited.
It’s her first time on stage in a while.
I walked with her to the underside of the stage.
This time it wasn’t behind the curtain—it was literally under the stage.
There was a hole in the floor, part of a dramatic mechanism.
Until just now, it had been covered by the piano.
Aria would be rising up through this passage.
“Off you go.”
Of course, I’d be at the very back as her accompanist, but a little encouragement can’t hurt.
Aria smiled brightly and stood at the entrance.
—
Tension filled the theater.
Even the nobles who had been chanting Aria’s name again after Anton’s exit were now silent.
At some point, a thin cover had been drawn over the stained glass ceiling.
No moonlight came in.
The audience, staring into the darkened stage, furrowed their brows.
And then—
From both sides of the stage, faint candlelight began to flicker.
It slowly spread, until eventually it filled the entire stage with a warm glow.
At the same time, the curtain at the back parted, revealing a giant painting.
A temple.
Or at least, something that looked like one.
No one knew who painted it, but the detail was remarkable.
It felt so real, it was like stepping into a sacred place.
At that moment, ever so faintly—
A high piano note rang softly in the air.
As if signaling someone’s arrival.
The pianist was not visible.
They were probably playing from behind the curtain.
As that graceful melody flowed, the audience listened attentively—
And the floor of the stage slowly opened.
A girl in a white dress stepped out.
No sound came from the seats.
Everyone was spellbound.
Once she fully emerged at center stage, the opening beneath her closed again.
The candles on either side that had brightened the stage now illuminated her face—Aria.
I see the world through the illusion beyond
A place where warm and honest dreams bloom
The soul soars freely across the sky
Floating gently like the clouds
Her small figure contrasted with her deep, clear voice, and the theater instantly fell silent.
Her voice blended gently with the piano accompaniment, each note melting into the temple backdrop, creating a mystical atmosphere.
She looked like an angel who had descended upon the sanctuary—or something very close to it.
Aria’s voice flowed in harmony with the piano.
Pianissimo.
So delicate.
How could such a fragile, gentle voice carry so much power? The audience couldn’t understand it.
But it was too soon to be surprised.
Aria raised her arm lightly, and a warm tone poured out like sunlight breaking through clouds, making the candle flames flicker.
It was an exquisitely refined portamento—
A technique that connects each note seamlessly, an extreme form of legato.
The piece soon reached the middle section, and her once-calm voice began to gain strength.
With a faint, trembling vibrato, she built tension, while expressing emotions so deep they made your heart ache.
“Ooh…”
“Incredible…”
As the melody swelled, the hearts of the audience surged.
No one spoke it aloud—but everyone felt it.
Awe and admiration.
The piano sound gradually grew louder.
Crescendo.
Matching that, Aria poured her heart into her voice, and together the two sounds filled the stage with a rich harmony.
The performance moved toward its end.
—
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