Honey, You're a Billionaire by Chandler Solar

Alan York was Regalia's most renowned calligrapher. His achievements in the field were unparalleled, and the few works he left behind before his passing were invaluable masterpieces. Nobody had expected Lizzie, the lady of the Finch family, to be Alan's student. After all, Alan never just took on any student. Only those with true talent could earn his mentorship.

Upon hearing this revelation, the guests regarded Lizzie with newfound admiration. After all, she was still the lady of the Finch family, and despite the buzz around Rose, who was the daughter of the Lerain Group's Xanth family, Lizzie's importance couldn't be entirely overlooked.

The Finch family still held significant weight, and everyone present knew when to show the appropriate deference.

It was evident that Eleanor had intentionally brought up Lizzie's calligraphy skills, and the guests looked forward to witnessing them.

"Who could have guessed that Mrs. Finch was Alan's student? Her calligraphy must be exquisite!" one guest exclaimed.

"Indeed. Who knows? We might even be fortunate enough to witness a masterpiece tonight," another added eagerly.

All eyes turned toward Lizzie, eager to see her demonstrate her skills. Eleanor was particularly pleased with how her plans were coming together perfectly.

Naturally, Lizzie knew exactly what Eleanor was doing, and she couldn't afford to let Eleanor's intentions fall flat in front of so many people.

"Mom, should I give a demonstration?" Lizzie asked, adopting an air of modesty.

"Yes, of course! Let's see your skills," Eleanor replied, her face glowing with satisfaction.

Upon hearing Eleanor's subtle cue, the helpers swiftly brought out some top-quality brushes, ink, paper, and an expansive desk. Their efficiency was a testament to the Finch family's influence.

The orchestrated nature of this calligraphy display was evident, and the guests couldn't help but wonder who Eleanor intended to impress.

Their gazes shifted toward one figure in unison. Eleanor's focus on currying favor with the distinguished figure from the Lerain Group couldn't have been more obvious.

The gathering crowd who harbored similar intentions took mental notes, while others discreetly messaged their assistants to acquire calligraphy masterpieces as potential gifts.

Rose also noted Eleanor's favoritism toward Elijah. Standing beside him, she commented, "You like calligraphy? What a coincidence. My mother does too."

In Rose's childhood memories, her mother's study was always filled with the scent of ink, brushes, and paper.

It was an elegant, artistic expression that left a lasting impression on anyone who saw

thoughts too, perhaps recalling the woman he had loved so deeply.

I

drawn him to the gentle arts. Rose was taken aback by his response, turning to look at her father in awe.

"How wonderful."

never shown any affection for her mother, and because of that, she had

she could feel the depth of his love for her mother. It erased

product of love," she

eyes filled with affection. "What's

formed on her brow as her expression turned pensive. "But I fear I may have caused you

had been invited to the manor that day under the guise of viewing an evening

Elijah and

could spend together If they had

at

they certainly would

that was precisely what

had the perfect opportunity to curry favor with Elijah, and the stakes for

what Rose was thinking. As for Eleanor's ambitions, he didn't mind. His priority was simply spending time with his daughter. Gently patting Rose's hand, he reassured her, "Don't worry, it's no trouble at all." Meanwhile, Eleanor wasn't pleased with the father and daughter's private conversation. "This won't do," she thought. She needed Elijah's attention to

They exchanged

inkstone. She briefly glanced up, acknowledging Eleanor with a nod, but as she lowered her gaze back to the paper, her eyes caught sight of someone at the crowd's edge. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. Carl quickly masked the momentary yearning in his

brushstrokes danced, leaving an elegant trail of ink on the

the early days of spring... We convened at the Blooming Pavilion, nestled

the Lindisfarne

writing from the Lindisfarne

glint of recognition flashed in his eyes.

help but wonder how they knew Elijah was searching for the

of disdain flashed in his eyes. Her writing may have seemed remarkable to the untrained eye, but compared to the piece Elijah had treasured