The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Among the infamous Devil's Trilogy, *The Gaze* was known as the most difficult piece of all—a reputation earned from the very first bars. Unlike most

compositions, which built up layer by layer, allowing musicians to ease in and find their footing, *The Gaze* hurled the performer straight into its most punishing passages without mercy.

For ordinary violinists, even the opening was a mountain too steep to climb, let alone the challenge of making it through the entire piece. The judges were already bracing themselves for Stella to falter right from the start.

But to their shock, Stella navigated those treacherous opening measures with astonishing ease. She made the hellish passages sound almost mundane, as if *The Gaze* were nothing more than a pleasant, straightforward melody.

Her movements betrayed no effort or strain. Each phrase flowed from her hands as smoothly as water gliding over polished stone.

In the audience, Mr. Walden and his students watched, dumbfounded. They knew that some pieces could be played on many instruments, but even those most familiar with other disciplines-like Rena and her companions-found *The Gaze* daunting. Even if one survived the brutal introduction, the rest of the piece was no gentler.

so effortless? Was she just pretending? Or was Nocturne

performance on the monitor, momentarily stunned. But soon, he composed himself. The opening may have been torturous, but there were violinists who could get through it. The true nightmare of *The Gaze* lay ahead, in the surging climax and the delicate conclusion. That stretch demanded not just flawless

She didn't miss a beat; in fact, her performance was every

to the end, the contest would be a dead heat. And for him, a tie against a newcomer was as good as defeat. He was the established maestro; Stella

Harry suddenly caught something—a subtle shift. Stella had taken

things easier, but raising it? That multiplied the difficulty several times over. The

he'd become; his shirt stuck to his back, damp with cold sweat. He'd never felt this way before. To be pushed to the brink by a complete unknown-so it was true, then: the Camerons really were

had played a note too high. Even a prodigy couldn't weather such a mistake in a piece this

Walden and

relaxed, their grim expressions