* * *

“Ah, right. President, speaking of that playwright. He suddenly disappeared so it took quite a while to find him.”

It was just before Karl got out of the carriage.

Chris, who had gotten out first to check outside, spoke like he just remembered.

Karl glanced at him and replied indifferently.

“……Did you find him?”

“I didn’t find his residence, but I found a witness. I met them briefly yesterday after receiving contact. I just remembered to tell you. The witness said they saw him on this 5th Avenue.”

He was the playwright Karl had secretly commissioned for a script.

He’s originally not a writer who worked openly, he only worked through agents or mail, and Chris had barely managed to meet him.

Karl thought he was a genius.

Over the past seven years, he had written exactly four works, and all were hits.

Though he extremely downplayed himself, saying it was luck and he wasn’t particularly skilled, that wasn’t true.

The opera house steadily received script submissions.

Large venues like Cissus Opera House tended to put on famous playwrights’ works or classics, but occasionally they would stage works by brilliant new writers.

True to his meticulous nature, Osman tended to read submitted scripts thoroughly.

From among those, Osman discovered that gem of a writer.

Thanks to that, his works could only be performed at Cissus Opera House.

In other words, he was essentially Cissus Opera House’s exclusive writer.

“……To disappear after writing over 80 percent. How frustrating.”

Though he said he stopped because of an urgent matter, there was no contact about when he would resume writing.

And most importantly, the content of the script he was currently writing absolutely must not leak outside.

‘……Though he signed a confidentiality agreement, we can’t just wait around when he suddenly disappears like this.’

Actually, if they could just confirm his whereabouts, it wouldn’t be such a serious matter.

Who knew he would disappear while Karl and Chris were away.

Additionally, 〈La Centina〉 and 〈Hebaron〉 that Lumiere loved were also his works.

“Come to think of it, that writer particularly favored Elina Buick.”

Though he never said it directly, the scripts seemed written with her in mind, so it was unmistakable.

Thinking this, Karl rang the porte-cochère doorbell of Elina’s mansion.

A child’s faint laughter could be heard from beyond the door.

Soon after, Elina’s housekeeper came running to greet them.

“Ah, visitors from the opera house. Please come in.”

Having met Chris once or twice for work, the two entered the porte-cochère smoothly.

And then something surprising happened when they discovered someone rolling around with the child in the inner garden.

“……Oh, that person.”

Chris stopped abruptly and widened his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Chris?”

“That’s him. The playwright Henkel Raus!”

* * *

And so six people, no, five adults and one little boy gathered in the reception room.

Lumiere was surprised by Karl’s sudden appearance, the middle-aged man frozen in shock for different reasons, and Elina Buick watching everyone with a very interested gaze.

“This is the first time so many people have been in my house. How fascinating.”

Elina habitually reached for a cigar, but withdrew her hand upon seeing Michael sitting in a chair swinging his legs while observing Karl.

When Lumiere poked Karl’s side, Karl’s body twitched slightly, but fortunately no one noticed.

“……How did you come here?”

Lumiere asked in a whisper.

“I came to see someone who’s here.”

At Karl’s answer, Elina murmured with an amused smile.

“Hmm, could that be me?”

Lumiere looked at Karl with disbelieving eyes.

Karl smiled sweetly while looking back at her.

His gaze on her deepened, and suddenly his hand reached up to touch her still red and swollen eyes.

“Have you been crying?”

“……No?”

Lumiere answered with wide eyes, quickly averting her gaze.

Her awkward attempt to hide her gaze made it impossible to conceal how much she had cried.

“Well, no, just somehow, a little?”

“Why?”

“……I mean, somehow, I just cried a little, okay?”

“That’s why I’m asking, why. I need to know so I can do something about it.”

So you won’t cry, I’ll do something about it.

Regardless of who was present or where they were, his eyes never left Lumiere.

Similarly, his gentle voice seemed to hide his feelings for her from no one.

“Our owner hasn’t changed. He’s acting so indifferent outside, but in places he thinks are safe, he still treats people like statues.”

Elina clicked her tongue and spoke, unable to watch anymore.

Lumiere had to awkwardly laugh while listening to her heart beating wildly out of control.

“Um, Lumiere.”

Taking advantage of that subtle silence, Michael tugged at Lumiere’s dress hem.

“What is it, Michael?”

When Lumiere asked kindly, Michael looked around cautiously before carefully asking near her ear.

“……Is that gentleman your prince?”

“What?”

“A princess and prince, right?”

The child looked at Lumiere with star-bright eyes.

Before the flustered Lumiere could deny it, Karl ruffled Michael’s hair and answered.

“You’re a sharp kid. You’re right. I am Lumiere’s prince.”

……Good heavens, last time he declared himself quite cute, and now he’s calling himself a prince.

Moreover, his expression was frighteningly serious.

“You know what, Karl? Among all the men I know, you’re the most shameless.”

Karl silently smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Clear laughter burst from Elina’s lips.

“Having many people around really is fun. But since adults have things to discuss, shall we get to the main point? Michael, would you mind leaving us for a while? Or you could play with Hardy for a bit.”

“Yes, grandmother.”

Michael obediently answered and jumped up from his seat.

The child who knew no rebellion took one last look at the princess and prince before leaving the room, letting go of any lingering attachment.

“Now then. Luka.”

The middle-aged man who had kept his mouth tightly shut like a clam until now startled and looked at Elina.

“You did well hiding from me that you’re Henkel Raus?”

It seemed there was one more man with secrets in this room.

* * *

Luka Raus learned writing from his mother, a primary school teacher.

Though he learned to write, he never dreamed he would make a living writing.

His father was a master shoemaker, and next to his shoe shop was Elina’s house.

Elina was pretty from childhood, spirited, and ambitious.

In contrast, Luka was quiet, unambitious, and somewhat lacking in presence.

To such a man, Elina was a mesmerizing existence like a rose blooming under the sun.

That remained an unchanging truth whether she was young, when she married another man and divorced after a dog-eat-dog fight, or when she wandered theater districts saying she would become an opera singer.

Luka lived making shoes like his father, and whenever he had time, he wrote scripts thinking of Elina.

Somehow he ended up completing one, and impulsively submitted it, which unexpectedly caught Osman’s eye.

Actually, since he couldn’t compose music, they had to attach a separate composer, but that didn’t matter.

When Elina starred in the play he wrote, Luka was overjoyed to the point of fainting.

So he went ahead and learned composition too.

Because he wanted to write even more perfect plays suited to Elina.

Then one day, Elina said she no longer wanted to appear in Henkel’s plays.

‘That writer’s protagonists are all too much like me. To the point where I don’t need to act. So I lost interest. I want to play more diverse roles.’

It was a very typical reason from her.

So from then on, Henkel—Luka wrote plays featuring characters he thought Elina would like.

That was 〈Hebaron〉.

And his obsessive efforts seemed to pay off when Elina returned to his plays.