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.

was breathtaking. It was an elegant, artistic expression that left a

the woman he had loved so deeply. His eyes softened with a rare

loved it, so I learned

marked by bloodshed and violence, and his constant companions were the weapons of war. It was Celeste's influence that had drawn him to the gentle arts. Rose was taken aback by his response,

"How wonderful."

long, she had been ignored and emotionally neglected by Jamie. He had never shown any affection for her mother, and because of that, she had never questioned whether she was truly his daughter. Rose had simply accepted that she wasn't the product

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

am a product of

eyes filled with affection.

formed on her brow as her expression turned pensive. "But I

day under the guise of viewing an evening gown. Rose would have to

Elijah and

her, cherishing every moment they could spend together If they

at

Manor that day, they certainly would have come

that was precisely what

couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Eleanor now had the perfect opportunity to curry favor with Elijah, and the stakes for what she sought in return would only grow

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

Eleanor's voice rose, drawing Rose and Elijah's attention. They exchanged glances before

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

Within the crowd, Lizzie's brushstrokes danced, leaving an elegant trail of ink on the paper. Her calligraphy was both graceful and powerful. As

the early days of spring... We convened

from the

Finch is writing from the

first line, a glint of recognition flashed in his eyes. Standing beside Rose, Clover's expression shifted visibly,

they knew Elijah

writing may have seemed remarkable to the untrained eye, but compared to the piece Elijah

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