Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Anton Tilberg Piano Competition (3)
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“Therese.”
“I can’t believe it either.”
A letter had arrived early in the morning, and I wondered what it could be about.
The sender was Anton Tilberg.
“Oh my…”
With a pounding heart, I pulled out the letter.
But the moment I read its contents, my face stiffened.
It became difficult even to breathe.
“How could something like this happen…”
To Her Highness, the Crown Princess.
I hope this letter finds you in good health.
While preparing the congratulatory performance for the departure ceremony, an unfortunate incident occurred. I humbly ask your forgiveness for sending this letter so abruptly.
The letter explained that a commoner who had been scheduled to perform alongside him had suffered harm at the hands of a duke’s daughter.
It was a petition.
As the Imperial Family, appropriate action had to be taken.
“Since this is related to the departure ceremony, should we ask Brother Ruhan?”
“No.”
Elise Flovitz’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“I will meet them myself.”
***
If people saw a duke kneeling in his own home, what would they think?
They would probably laugh and say he had lost his mind.
Yet that very scene was unfolding inside the Dresel Ducal Estate.
The one before him was a girl who looked at least thirty years younger than himself.
Leah Dresel.
She might be young, but she was not someone to be taken lightly.
If he did, it wouldn’t end with mere humiliation.
“I pay my respects to Your Highness, the Crown Princess.”
The duke bowed deeply, showing the utmost courtesy.
He could already guess why she had come.
Surely it was to reprimand his daughter for staining the name of a family that represented the capital.
‘Has the rumor already reached the Imperial Palace?’
It seemed excessive for her to come in person, but how could a mere duke presume to understand the Crown Princess’s intentions?
“Duke, raise your head.”
“It would be improper for someone of my standing.”
Elise did not scold him for his discourtesy.
From the beginning, she did not care about the duke’s attitude.
“I have something to discuss privately with the lady.”
“Yes.”
Still bent at the waist, he withdrew from the reception room.
He worried about his daughter, but there was nothing he could do.
Now only two people remained in the room.
Elise sat on the sofa and stared down coldly at Leah, who was kneeling on the floor.
“Leah Dresel?”
“Y-Yes! Your Highness, the Crown Princess!”
“Lower your voice. You’re being noisy.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“Do you know why I have come here?”
At Elise’s stern voice, Leah’s shoulders trembled.
‘They said she was warm and approachable!’
This was the complete opposite of what she had heard.
At this point, even Crown Prince Ruhan Flovitz—rumored to be violent—seemed preferable.
Leah was not mistaken.
The reason Elise was beloved by the people of the Empire was because of her modest and altruistic character.
Yet now, she looked like a demon staring straight at her.
It was obvious how fiercely her anger was burning beneath the surface.
“Didn’t I ask you?”
At that, Leah answered.
“I-I don’t know!”
“That’s fine. I wasn’t interested in your answer anyway.”
There was no way out.
No way to survive this.
What did I even do wrong?
Elise lowered herself and stared directly into Leah’s eyes.
Leah couldn’t bring herself to meet her gaze.
Within those crimson pupils dwelled only killing intent and hatred.
“You committed a vile act to sabotage the Imperial departure ceremony.”
“W-What?”
Even in her fear, Leah dared to ask back.
‘Sabotage the departure ceremony? Me?’
She had no memory of that.
Could it be a misunderstanding?
“That’s impossible! Absolutely not!”
“I heard you attempted to harm Erdi Bilet. Am I mistaken?”
“Erdi…”
It was true that she had struck him.
Consumed by jealousy, she slapped him and threw him out of the house.
She was immediately discovered by her father and harshly reprimanded.
That should have been the end of it.
‘What does Erdi have to do with the departure ceremony?’
Leah widened her eyes.
Elise did not budge.
It felt like facing a wild beast, and Leah instinctively averted her gaze.
“Erdi Bilet was scheduled to participate in the congratulatory stage of the Imperial departure ceremony.”
“…What?”
She had never heard such a thing.
Since when?
Had that wretch been connected to Anton Tilberg all along?
She wanted to ask for details, but this was not the atmosphere for it.
“Leah Dresel.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“For the duke’s sake, I will not punish you immediately.”
“Thank you.”
“There is no need for gratitude. If one more unsavory incident reaches my ears, I will have your entire family executed.”
Leah could not respond.
Frozen in place, she pressed her forehead to the floor.
Elise stood and walked out.
Outside, the duke was waiting.
“This is all my fault for failing to educate my child properly. Please administer appropriate punishment.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Elise mounted her carriage without another word.
The Duke of Dresel understood the meaning clearly.
A warning.
No matter how unruly a duke’s daughter might be, there were lines that must not be crossed.
Leah had crossed one.
If it happened again, even he would not be safe.
“For the time being, you are forbidden from even approaching the theater.”
No—this alone was not enough.
“I will also reconsider your admission to the Academy.”
It was the moment when the lofty status of the duke’s daughter came crashing down to the ground.
***
Thanks to Elise, the matter was resolved cleanly.
Some might ask why I involved the Imperial Family in a personal vendetta—but that would be wrong.
I need Erdi.
And this is an event requested directly by the Crown Prince.
It was never personal revenge.
If there’s a problem at work, you report it to your superior.
And if there’s an issue with the departure ceremony stage, you petition the Imperial Family.
I sent the letter to Elise because I was confident she would help.
From now on, I won’t be seeing Leah Dresel in the capital.
With the obstruction gone, it was time to proceed with the work.
“Um… young master?”
“Yes?”
“Why am I here?”
“There’s a reason.”
I invited Erdi to my estate.
Since it was still far from mealtime, I brought him to my room first.
There were a few things I wanted to test.
“Can you read musical scores?”
“Please lower your tone.”
“Fair enough.”
I handed Erdi a musical score.
It was a collection of performance pieces published under my name.
“The duke taught me how to read them.”
“That’s fortunate. What about writing?”
“I’ve never tried.”
Then learning transcription comes first.
It would be ideal if he could eventually compose as well.
I sat at the piano in front of him.
I played several chords.
“Do you know what that was?”
“A C major tonic chord and a dominant seventh. The root is G, correct? After that, I hear another tonic chord with a minor seventh added.”
“Correct.”
This time, I pressed only a single chord.
“This one’s difficult. I hear C and C-sharp… but the last note is confusing. A diminished seventh?”
“Close. The last note was B. It’s a diminished major seventh chord. You missed one.”
Once more.
“D? No… E?”
“It’s B-flat. That’s pretty far off, isn’t it?”
That settled it.
Erdi Bilet.
He has relative pitch.
The ability to perceive music through interval movement and pitch changes.
It differs from absolute pitch, which allows one to identify exact pitches instantly.
Relative pitch is more like a learned skill—inferring pitch through surrounding notes.
Erdi identified the first chord progression with remarkable accuracy.
But when only a single chord or note was played, he missed.
He lacked absolute pitch, but his ability to grasp intervals from melodies was exceptional.
Most performers possess some degree of relative pitch.
But Erdi’s talent didn’t stop there.
I placed my hands on the keys again and played rhythm and melody together.
“Try copying it.”
“Me?”
“It’s fine even if you get it wrong.”
We switched places.
After a brief pause, his fingers began to move.
As expected.
Not perfect—but very close.
The fact that he could imitate it after hearing it once was astonishing.
‘Is he even human?’
Does he never forget a melody once it enters his mind?
Outstanding memory combined with relative pitch.
A talent worth coveting.
Exactly the kind of person needed to advance culture in this world.
“Hey, Erdi.”
“Yes, young master?”
“Want to try working with me?”
***
After that, I met Erdi almost every day.
Once his newspaper deliveries were done, he would rush straight to my house for piano practice.
The reason he didn’t refuse my offer was simple.
“To play freely like this… it feels like a dream!”
As a commoner, he likely had few opportunities to touch a piano.
And with his relationship with the duke ruined, there might have been none left at all.
But I offered him even better conditions.
“If you want to play, come anytime.”
Our family wasn’t particularly influential, so no one cared if we mingled with commoners.
On top of that, we had a new grand piano and excellent soundproofing.
More than enough to make Erdi’s eyes sparkle.
I also taught him transcription in spare moments, and he picked it up quickly.
To gauge his reaction, I played the piece for him in advance.
“This is the piece I’ll present at the departure ceremony. What do you think?”
“It’s wonderful. It feels… uplifting.”
Naturally.
The Great Gate of Kiev.
A work by the Russian composer Mussorgsky.
A masterpiece with majestic chords, rising momentum, and a glorious atmosphere.
“Could you write down the score after listening to my performance?”
“Of course!”
With Erdi’s help, the work finished far more easily and quickly.
His enthusiasm was infectious.
And more than that—
“How about emphasizing this rhythm with a sforzando? Play it more strongly.”
“Not bad. It’ll draw attention and heighten tension.”
He even offered fitting suggestions.
Having a partner is a good thing.
After some preparation, the day of the departure ceremony finally arrived.