I feared he might storm onto the stage, interrupting the entire competition to challenge Rolin to a duel.
“I can sense that his intentions towards you are not pure……”
I can’t argue with that.
Leo leaned in, his nose brushing against my neck as he inhaled deeply.
The action was both possessive and comforting, his wolf side seeking reassurance that I was still his, and his alone.
He held me so tightly that I could feel the hot temperature of his body.
Just then, the announcement echoed through the room.
And now for our sixth contestant, Elizabeth Martin, who will be performing a suite written by piano virtuoso Orlando Martin himself: Time Marks My heart leaped in my chest.
It was my turn.
The culmination of months of preparation had come down to this moment.
Leo’s kiss on my cheek, a brief but lingering touch, brought a sudden warmth to my cold fingertips, easing some of the nervousness that had been gnawing at me.
“Good luck.” He whispered in my ear, “I’ll be here when you return, my Luna.”
I took a deep breath and walked towards the stage with an impeccable smile.
As I walked onto the stage, the murmur of the audience rose to a crescendo.
The buzz was palpable, a ripple of excitement that spread through the room as soon as my name was announced.
Orlando Martin’s daughter–everyone knew who I was now, and their eyes bore into me, waiting to see if I would live up to the legacy of my father.
I paused at the center of the stage, giving the audience a graceful bow, acknowledging their presence with a quiet nod.
My heart raced as I approached the grand piano, the instrument that had been both my refuge and my challenge for so many years.
I ran my fingers lightly over the keys, ensuring everything was in place before signaling to the judges that I was ready to begin.
The room fell into a hushed silence, the anticipation thick in the air as the judges settled into their seats, prepared to score my performance.
I took a deep breath, letting the stillness seep into me, calming my nerves.
A staff member approached, ready to turn the pages of my sheet music as I played.
Everything was in order, or so I thought.
As the first page was turned, my hands froze over the keys, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
I stared at the words, my breath catching in my throat.
The shock of it all left me momentarily paralyzed. I looked up at the staff member, hoping for some explanation, but he avoided my gaze, his face a mask of indifference.
Panic surged through me as the enormity of the situation settled in.
Instead of the familiar notes of Time Marks‘, my eyes met a blank sheet of paper, save for a single line scrawled in the middle.
The words hit me like a physical blow, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.
10-34
The Luna Marked with Lies. The Queen Crowned by Revenge
38.99
It said:
Elizabeth is a bitch.
My hands trembled slightly as I realized the sheet music had been swapped.
The familiar notes I had prepared were gone, replaced by something far more sinister.
I looked up at the staff member responsible for turning the pages, but he refused to meet my gaze, his eyes deliberately averted.
A cold wave of realization washed over me as I scanned the audience, searching for answers.
My eyes landed on Aria, who had just finished her performance.
She sat confidently in her seat, her lips curled into a smirk that radiated endless provocation.
Beside her, Sorcia was laughing, her face twisted into a mockery of what I imagined my own expression might have been.
The two of them had clearly orchestrated this, bribing the staff to sabotage me, and now they were sitting there, waiting for me to fail.
A murmur rippled through the audience as the delay in my performance became apparent.
The restless chatter grew louder, and I could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes on me.
Panic threatened to rise, but I caught sight of my father, Orlando, seated at the judges‘ table.
He was watching me closely, a slight frown creasing his brow, as though he could sense something was wrong.
But as a judge, he couldn’t intervene.
I had signaled that I was ready, and now I had to prove it.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed aside the overwhelming urge to give in to the fear.
I sat down at the piano, letting the familiar feel of the keys ground me.
Without the sheet music to guide me, I had no choice but to rely entirely on my memory and the music ingrained in my heart.
The room fell into an uneasy silence as I pressed the first note.
The delicate sound echoed through the hall, and with it, the murmur of the crowd faded into nothingness.
