Chapter 21
‘Huh.’
Vincent let out a hollow laugh to himself as he watched Aria’s antics.
Were those hands really meant to play the organ?
Her feet couldn’t even reach the pedals.
Dangling in midair, her tiny legs looked simply adorable.
‘A childish attempt by a little kid,’
Vincent chuckled quietly to himself.
“Stop fooling around and come down. This is not something to touch carelessly.”
The instrument had been crafted by Picaro, an artisan of the Holy Empire, over three years.
Recognized as more than just an instrument but a work of art, it had been preserved without anyone ever playing it.
‘Would it be too cruel to have this precious masterpiece touched by a clueless child?’
However, Vincent stopped in his tracks the moment Aria skillfully activated the organ’s wind magic.
Her tiny hands pressed the stops that controlled the organ’s tone with practiced precision.
Without a single prior practice, the performance began.
‘Toccata and Fugue in D minor.’
A masterpiece by Maestro Cortez, a signature piece of the Baroque era.
The adagio began dramatically.
The pitch, resonance, melody direction, and tempo were all controlled freely, like the graph of a complex equation.
Though she couldn’t use the pedals, the intense tension and intricate harmonies were reproduced perfectly.
With those tiny hands.
Sometimes overwhelming, sometimes gentle.
‘An instrument guiding the soul to heaven…’
Vincent recalled the organ’s nickname.
His gaze fell on the bare forearms she had exposed in the heat.
Goosebumps rose on his skin.
He muttered without realizing it:
“…Heroic Symphony.”
Originally, this piece wasn’t for the organ.
But Aria pressed a stop and struck the keys with another hand.
The tone shifted instantly.
The composer of this piece, Ben, had called the organ:
‘The emperor of instruments.’
The angelic performance instantly proclaimed the ruler’s dominance.
A piece never before played on an organ was now rearranged spontaneously, reverberating majestically through the study.
“Hemmeston Nocturne No. 5.”
Next, she even played a violin piece.
Yet without pausing, she tapped the keys lightly and rhythmically.
It evoked the open green fields, the cool wind, and the free-spirited dance of wandering nomads.
This was not merely following the rhythm—it carried dynamic dance steps and emotions.
The joy and the pain of wandering without a home passed through, then faded.
A shiver ran through his entire body.
Vincent clenched his fists to avoid getting too excited.
A thrill-filled smile crept onto his lips.
Aria stepped down from the chair and stood before him.
And her tiny lips moved.
―“Now, leave.”
Leave?
‘Just like a married couple.’
Her tone was almost identical to Lloyd’s.
Vincent touched his own lips, drawing the bow, and obeyed.
He walked out of the study, and the door slammed loudly, as if caught in a gust of wind.
Aria had closed it herself, clearly angry.
She had driven him away.
Yet his foolish smile didn’t fade.
‘A disruptive species in the ecosystem.’
That had been Vincent’s thought when he first saw Aria—and it had turned out to be accurate.
His sister-in-law was a genius.
An overwhelming one.
“I am a genius.”
Aria glared at Vincent coldly as he proudly declared himself a genius.
She had been planning to stroll through the garden to admire the new summer flowers after breakfast, but this uninvited guest had ruined her plans.
The one who boldly proclaimed himself a genius suddenly gulped down tea, slammed the cup down, and said:
“I survived by being a genius. That’s why I can’t tolerate those who hide their talent while being geniuses themselves.”
“…….”
“So this is why you were in the study all along—practicing in secret, avoiding people’s eyes?”
Not quite, but if he assumed that, it didn’t hurt.
Aria simply nodded, unwilling to bother with excuses.
“Do you hide your face behind a mask because you’re a facial genius too?”
“?”
“Ha, you too, brother. Why leave such natural beauty to waste like a weed? As someone with a facial genius myself, I can’t understand it.”
Vincent brushed back his golden hair, which reached his shoulders.
The gleaming hair, and his sea-like eyes that seemed to pull her in when she met them—Aria thought to herself:
‘He’s gone mad from studying too much.’
They say genius and fool are a thin line apart.
‘Maybe this is what they meant.’
Aria ignored the golden-haired, overly self-absorbed boy and popped a strawberry macaron into her mouth.
Then her gaze fell on the thick, sturdy-looking book Vincent had placed on the table.
[What’s that?]
“Ah, a handwritten copy of the pre-revision law code. I’ve read the drafts of the upcoming revisions already.”
She recalled that he had been reading law books even when they met in the library.
‘Even carrying it around like this…’
She was slightly overwhelmed while enjoying her snack.
Although law codes varied by territory, she knew they could range from several dozen to hundreds of volumes.
‘If new codes are coming out, why read the old ones?’
“Anyway, don’t change the subject.”
Vincent continued without pause:
“No one dislikes a young genius. People even fake being young to show off talent, but you’re genuinely young.”
Aria knew she was a genius—Count Cortez had drilled it into her repeatedly.
“You’re a genius. Your range is unbelievable, and you can perfectly imitate what you hear. Not even your mother compares.”
One day, he praised her as a talent gifted by the heavens.
“Is that even called singing?”
Another day, he harshly criticized her as producing unbearable noise.
“Damn it, how dare you steal Cortez’s talent. That should have been mine!”
It was the Count speaking under the influence of alcohol.
Watching him crumble daily from jealousy, Aria realized she had indeed been given divine talent.
Her musical gift came from her grandfather, Maestro Cortez, and absolute pitch and celestial tone from Sophia.
Everyone envied her abilities.
She understood why Vincent became frustrated with her.
Yet being born with such talent had never made her happy.
She had endured endless injustices and hardships because she was a genius.
“Valentine would fully support you. More than any family, they love art.”
“…….”
“Imagine people praising you as a ‘musical prodigy.’”
She had already experienced that countless times.
Aria had even been revered as a ‘god’ by the Emperor.
After that, she realized: humans can never truly become gods.
[Vincent.]
For the first time, Aria pulled out a card.
[If you survive because you’re a genius, you’ll die because you’re a genius. By the same people who once praised you.]
“Eh?”
Vincent looked puzzled.
Aria was already thinking of the future when he would be falsely accused and driven out—but he couldn’t understand that yet.
She silently wrote the next card:
[Recognition from others is that shallow. It won’t even last ten years.]
“…….”
[You don’t have to desperately prove your genius. Recognition will follow naturally if you do your work.]
“Th-That’s true, of course…”
Perhaps thinking he had been lectured by a child, Vincent blushed and stammered.
“You constantly surprise me… I didn’t expect you to think like that. And you treat me naturally like a subordinate?”
So what?
Aria responded blankly, as if that’s exactly what she meant.
Vincent shook his head, chuckling lightly:
“Indeed. Even if I just breathe, I shine brighter than the sun. The sun envies the wind.”
Not what she meant, but she added:
[If you keep acting annoyingly, you’ll be stoned to death. Just focus on your work.]
“Eh?”
[So do your job.]
It was sincere advice.
Vincent made a dumbfounded expression, then awkwardly laughed.
“Ha… ha, you must be joking.”
[Not joking.]
“…….”
[Now leave.]
A brief silence fell.
Aria, pleased at the newfound quiet, sipped her tea.
