Carlotta, the second daughter of the Montelli family, is an investor with exceptional aesthetic taste and the executor who handles the family's unspoken troubles.
Lately, she has been facing the biggest challenge of her career.
It wasn't about negotiating the acquisition of a painting, nor about malicious competition from business rivals, nor even the internal power struggles within the family.
Leaning back in the large carved oak chair in her study, Carlotta unconsciously tapped her fingers on the desk. Her magenta hair accessory glead softly under the light, but her usually sharp cyan eyes were unusually tinged with weariness.
Now she finally understood why Zani looked like that every day after work.
Budget reports, venue planning, personnel scheduling, security arrangents, guest lists, and matters requiring coordination with the Order... every detail needed her personal review and signature approval.
Unnoticed, the sky outside the window had shifted from darkness to dawn.
"Sigh..."
A soft, faint sigh escaped her lips, surprising even Carlotta herself. But she imdiately pressed her lips together, withdrawing this mont of uncharacteristic vulnerability.
Her grandfather was still helping manage relationships with other factions, and everyone in the Montelli family was working tirelessly for the festival—how could she afford to wallow in self-pity?
"It's just a slightly heavier workload than usual..."
This responsibility was one she had chosen for herself—after Aeron helped eliminate Capollo and cleared her biggest obstacle, leading Montelli to new heights and preparing for this crucial Carnevale was sothing she must, and would, accomplish.
As the second daughter of the Montelli family and the designated successor to lead the family, she had been taught since childhood to handle all matters with elegance, composure, and effortless grace.
In art investnt negotiations, she could secure deals with her discerning eye and skillful maneuvering while maintaining casual conversation. In business rivalries, she could precisely identify her opponents' weaknesses. Even internal family troubles, she could calmly analyze, dissect, and resolve.
But the current Carnevale was completely different.
This was Ragunna's long-awaited festival, returning after twenty years of absence. It was Montelli's stage to demonstrate their capabilities, the key mont to expose the Order's true nature, and the repaynt she had promised Aeron.
If he were here, he'd probably say "As expected of Montelli's second daughter" while helping her handle the most troubleso matters related to the Order...
"..."
Carlotta paused slightly, then felt annoyed with herself. Why was she thinking of him at a ti like this? This made her seem like so heartless boss who only saw him as a tool.
Though she thought this, Carlotta couldn't help recalling her experience at Porto-Veno Castle a few days ago.
Cantarella Fisalia—that mysterious family head—the way she looked at Aeron, Carlotta still rembered.
It wasn't scrutiny, nor simple interest, but sothing much more complex. Before her, Aeron seed unable to hide anything.
As for Zani and Ciaccona... Carlotta still trusted them.
The forr was Averardo Vault's best employee, while the latter was also a reliable partner.
That's how it should have been, but Carlotta felt the way they interacted with Aeron was completely different from how they interacted with her. It was as if she were an outsider.
Aeron and them together in Fisalia...
Thinking of this, Carlotta gently shook her head, brushing away those inexplicable thoughts. She refocused on the mountain of docunts before her, but found it difficult to imrse herself as completely as before.
"What's wrong with ..."
She murmured to herself, unconsciously twirling a strand of silver hair around her finger.
The Echoes zones needed reassessnt, ship berth allocations were still disputed, rchant guild stall applications piled up like mountains, and the Order's response regarding festival procedures remained ambiguous.
"If that guy were here..."
The thought surfaced uncontrollably again.
If Aeron were here, he'd probably start lazily making sarcastic remarks about those troubleso negotiations with the Order, then sohow manage to resolve these headache-inducing tasks. He might even offer suggestions that seed unreliable but turned out surprisingly effective...
"Wait." Carlotta suddenly straightened up and turned to look at the calendar on her desk.
Today was the day Aeron and the others were due back from Fisalia.
An indescribable restlessness drove Carlotta to her feet. She walked to the window where the afternoon sun cast warm rays through the glass.
"...Just consider it a change of pace."
She whispered to herself, more to convince herself than anything else. As the next designated leader of the Montelli family, it was only proper for her to welco them back.
Yes, that was it.
...
Afternoon, Ragunna Port.
Carlotta stood before the Montelli family's private berth, her silver hair ticulously tied back and adorned with magenta gem hair accessories matching her hairband. No one could tell she'd been overwheld with Carnevale preparations just half an hour earlier.
The ship docked steadily, and the gangplank was lowered. Carlotta instinctively straightened her posture, adjusted her breathing, and fixed an impeccable, composed smile on her face—the signature expression of the Montelli second daughter.
The first to disembark was Zani. She looked much the sa as when she'd left, maintaining her professionally weary yet efficient appearance, though there seed to be less tension between her brows and a hint of... indescribable relaxation?
Seeing Carlotta, Zani nodded briefly and reported concisely: "Second Young Miss, we've returned safely." Her voice remained steady.
"Well done, Zani." Carlotta smiled in response, her gaze shifting behind her.
"Miss Carlotta—!" Following the cheerful call, Ciaccona descended from the ship. Her cheeks were rosy, eyes strikingly bright, radiating overwhelming happiness with a smile so brilliant it was almost dazzling.
"...Is Fisalia that nourishing?"
Carlotta had never seen either of them in such good spirits here at Montelli.
It seed things in Fisalia must have gone smoothly—consider it giving them a vacation... right?
Persuading herself thus, Carlotta's eyes fell on the third figure leisurely descending the gangplank.
Then, she froze.
Dressed in an elegant, understated black suit of fine material and impeccable tailoring, with carefully grood hair, scholarly glasses, and that weary yet slightly lancholic expression—though his facial features confird he was undoubtedly the person Carlotta had in mind, this aura—
"What are you staring at? Say your lines."
Ah, that's more like it.
"Clothes make the man, a saddle makes the horse, and a bell makes the dog run rrily—now I understand what this Huanglong saying ans."
"Hey, wait, why are you insulting right after we et?"
"I'm actually complinting you, you know?"
Just as Carlotta was about to exchange a few more words with the well-dressed Aeron, the final guest erged unhurriedly from the cabin and descended the gangway.
Her deep purple hair swayed gently in the sea breeze, adorned in an intricate and exquisite matriarch's gown, a gem-encrusted scepter symbolizing authority in her hand, and that face forever graced by an elusive, elegant smile—Cantarella Fisalia.
As expected...
Though she had ntally prepared herself, Carlotta still froze for a mont upon seeing the Fisalia matriarch, who had long been absent from public view, appear here.
She turned to face Cantarella, took a step forward, and bowed gracefully.
"My apologies, Lady Cantarella, for failing to prepare in advance. Montelli has been discourteous."
"You are too kind, Miss Carlotta."
Cantarella's voice was as gentle and lodious as ever, her athyst eyes smiling as her gaze lightly swept past Aeron, who was trying to fade into the background, before settling back on Carlotta. "There are so matters I felt would be more appropriately discussed with you in person, Miss Carlotta. I hope you can forgive my uninvited arrival."
"You flatter , Lady Cantarella. Your personal visit is an honor for Montelli."
As she spoke, Carlotta noticed Aeron's odd behavior.
The atmosphere between them was deeply off—not hostile, nor rely allied, but sothing more subtle and intimate.
Cantarella's gaze toward Aeron held a trace of taken-for-granted familiarity, while Aeron... well, he remained as irreverent as ever.
"As a guest, I shall follow the host's lead. We apologize for the intrusion, Miss Carlotta." Cantarella responded softly, taking the lead. Imdiately, Aeron fell into step behind her.
Watching their retreating figures and recalling Zani and Ciaccona's earlier reactions, Carlotta felt an indescribable unease.
Could this group be keeping sothing from her?
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