Chapter 7.1 – Something That’s Not Mine

As more guests arrived, Mrs. Mars’s expression brightened, while Natalie’s darkened. In Natalie’s tense mind, stray musical notes floated aimlessly.

The guests, dressed in expensive clothes, were like jewels entering Mrs. Mars’s jewelry box. Among them, the most precious jewel was none other than the Duke’s daughter.

“Oh my, the Duke’s daughter has arrived!”

Mrs. Mars exclaimed, her face lighting up like someone who had been gifted the finest jewel. Before Miss Windsor’s elegant steps could even cross the threshold, Mrs. Mars darted forward like an arrow. She showered Miss Windsor with compliments about the excellence of her dress and her impeccable taste in selecting it.

Meanwhile, Natalie sat in a corner of the drawing room like a faded gem. She seemed to blend in with the violinist tuning his instrument, occasionally producing a screeching sound.

Sally, observing this contrast, glared at Mrs. Mars. She felt sorry for her sister, who wasn’t being treated as a guest but rather as a hired performer. At least the violinist was being paid for his services, but what was her sister enduring all this for?

Sally suspected that Mrs. Mars had spent the event budget on fresh flowers for the vases, leaving no money to hire a musician, and thus had brought Natalie instead.

To compensate for the lack of wages, Sally picked up a plate of exotic desserts that Mrs. Mars had proudly declared as her specialty. She placed the plate of desserts on the piano and pushed a pastry into her sister’s mouth.

“This is for you, Sis. Eat it all. Don’t worry too much. You’ll do great.”

Frankly, Sally doubted that the guests, who were all busy chatting away, would pay much attention to the piano performance. This event, like any other social gathering, seemed more focused on the price of the necklaces adorning their necks than on the music.

However, Natalie, ever diligent, gave her all to the task at hand, without a hint of laziness. It was heartbreaking to watch. Natalie returned the half-eaten pastry to the plate.

“Thank you.”

“Should I bring you something to drink?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Even as she responded, Natalie’s gaze returned to the sheet music. Seeing her sister so engrossed, Sally couldn’t bring herself to say more. She simply headed toward the table holding the glasses of water, casting another glare at Mrs. Mars.

At the end of her glare was also Miss Windsor, who was basking in Mrs. Mars’s endless praises. Just as Sally was about to pick up a glass, Miss Windsor made an unexpected move. She walked toward the piano, a direction no one had anticipated.

No one among the guests, engaged in exchanging pleasantries, had ever thought to greet the performer. Natalie wasn’t a hired musician, but no one seemed to notice that fact.

Yet, the distinguished “Duke’s daughter” of Mrs. Mars was heading straight for Natalie.

Even as Miss Windsor stopped right in front of the piano, Natalie was too absorbed in rechecking the sheet music to notice.

“It’s been a while, Miss Maron. Or should I call you Sasha?”

Natalie, who had been staring at the sheet music, finally looked up. Caught up in the tension of memorizing the music over and over again, she hadn’t realized the Duke’s daughter had arrived. Momentarily dazed, she belatedly responded.

“Call me whatever you like.”

As long as it wasn’t something strange like “Pumpkin” or “Muffin,” it didn’t matter much to her. And surely, no one but Mr. Wharton would enjoy giving her such odd nicknames.

Natalie tried to recall the social smile she had learned from Mr. Wharton. She imagined his natural and graceful smile in her mind as she lifted the corners of her lips.

However, her smile only seemed to sharpen Miss Windsor’s gaze. Her eyes lost their warmth, as if she were offended.

Natalie, sensing this, grew even more anxious as the start of the performance drew near. Her gaze briefly flickered back to the sheet music, only to be interrupted by a sharp voice.

“How is my former fiancé doing?”

Former fiancé.

The words struck her ears like a pin.

“…He’s doing well.”

Natalie maintained her smile and answered calmly. At this, Miss Windsor stepped closer to Natalie.

“It’s truly strange. He clung to me as if desperate to marry, yet why would his feelings change overnight?”

Miss Windsor tilted her head, as if genuinely puzzled by Mr. Wharton’s sudden change of heart.

“Did he grab just any woman to make me jealous after being rejected by me?”

Natalie’s eyes widened in shock.

How did she know?

It felt as though her clumsy act had been exposed. She avoided Miss Windsor’s gaze, her eyes darting around before landing on the sheet music as if to escape.

Miss Windsor truly had a sharp intuition.

Mr. Wharton might have been able to fool Mrs. Mars with his flawless acting, but the issue was undoubtedly Natalie herself. She recalled calling him “Eddie” in a moment of unguarded familiarity—so unlike the composed demeanor she should have maintained.

Her own shortcomings seemed glaringly obvious.

Natalie tried to calm her startled heart, pretending to turn the pages of her sheet music.

“That’s impossible. Absolutely not.”

Even as she spoke, her tone felt awkward. She continued, as if to justify herself further.

“We truly love each other. Very much. I genuinely like Mr. Wharton. I’m very happy. And Mr. Wharton… he…”

Loves me.

The lie stuck on the tip of her tongue, refusing to come out.

“He…”

The rough texture of the sheet music under her fingertips felt as sharp as glass. Even her mouth, unable to utter the lie, stung painfully.

As Natalie struggled to speak, the name that had been on her mind all along echoed in her ears.

“Mr. Wharton!”

Mrs. Mars’s exclamation rang through the drawing room.

Mr. Wharton responded with a smile to the warm welcome. All eyes turned to him, with some guests hastily making their way toward the distinguished newcomer. In an instant, Mr. Wharton was surrounded by people.

The scene reminded Natalie of the day she first saw him at a ball.

The beloved gentleman, the star of the event, adored by all.

Miss Windsor straightened her posture as she looked in the same direction as Natalie.

“Doesn’t Mrs. Mars’s necklace look incredibly heavy?”

Following Miss Windsor’s words, Natalie’s gaze shifted to Mrs. Mars. The necklace, adorned with large jewels, wasn’t actually hers. It had been borrowed for a hefty price just for the occasion.

“You can always tell when something isn’t theirs. People wearing things beyond their means always fidget nervously. They can’t touch it carelessly or proudly claim it as their own.”

Natalie understood that Miss Windsor’s words weren’t really about the necklace or Mrs. Mars.

Miss Windsor clearly wanted Mr. Wharton back. Like retrieving a borrowed necklace.

Natalie herself was merely a stepping stone in Miss Windsor’s path. It was a truth she often forgot but always remembered when her hopes foolishly rose.

The smile Natalie had practiced so hard to perfect, the one Mr. Wharton had taught her, began to fade.

Miss Windsor stepped away from the piano, her eyes smiling.

“When you return something, you should return it in pristine condition.”

With that, Miss Windsor walked toward Mr. Wharton. He greeted her approach with a smile—a kind and beautiful smile.

Though Natalie couldn’t hear their conversation clearly, the two of them looked amiable.

Reading novels required imagination. The ability to fill in blanks breathed life into the story. Out of habit, Natalie filled in the blanks between Miss Windsor and Mr. Wharton with her own imagined dialogue.

‘How have you been?’

‘Well, I haven’t been doing well since I couldn’t meet you, Miss Windsor.

‘Oh my, how wonderful. You feel the same way as I do.’

‘Haha, did you also stay awake at night thinking of me, Miss Windsor?’

‘Of course. I stayed up all night.’

While her imagination crafted such affectionate dialogues, Mr. Wharton glanced toward the piano. The smile he had directed at Miss Windsor now turned toward her, and Natalie instinctively averted her gaze. She felt as though she was facing Mr. Wharton in her pajamas, unprepared and out of place amidst the elegantly dressed crowd. Her fingers aimlessly struck the piano keys, producing timid, hollow sounds. Meanwhile, Mrs. Mars, having confirmed all the guests had arrived, announced the start of the performance.

“…Miss Maron has prepared a special performance.”

Her name being called snapped her back to reality.

Natalie sprang from the piano bench, meeting the gazes directed at her. Dozens of eyes scrutinized her, causing her body to stiffen. In the silence of anticipation, her mind went blank, as white as the piano keys. She frantically checked the sheet music, feeling the weight of their gazes pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her palms grew damp, and her entire body felt as rigid as an overly tuned piano.

Calm down, please.

Natalie clenched and unclenched her tense hands, hurriedly sitting back on the piano bench. As the chair wobbled awkwardly, her heart wobbled with it. Anxiety brought forth unwelcome thoughts.