The guests were taken aback as well. They knew Jade had few apprentices, each already well-known, yet Mila’s face was unfamiliar and youthful.
What was more striking was Jade referring to this particular apprentice as a prodigy—a first in her career.
Jade smiled gently. She’s my very first student. She’s been honing her skills in solitude for years, and now it’s time for her to step into the world.
Mila had been with Jade from a very young age, personally groomed by her mentor. It was no exaggeration to call her Jade’s final disciple.
Upon learning Mila’s full name, the guests grew even more surprised.
Sutherland, just like Jade.
Though questions lingered, no one dared to pry. Jade had always claimed to be an orphan, true or not, she was tight-lipped about her lineage.
The guests were savvy enough to avoid stirring any discomfort. They understood it was best to keep such matters to themselves.
Throughout the conversations in the private room, Mila stood quietly by Jade’s side, observing but contributing little. Her aunt had brought her here to familiarize herself with the faces; eventually, Mila knew she’d have to prove herself through her work.
As the chatter slowly dwindled, an enveloping silence filled the room.
The lights dimmed completely.
This event was a musical gala, a celebration within the art world.
Performing tonight were renowned musicians alongside newcomers eager to make their mark.
Mila, being an artist herself, found the scene intriguing. She moved closer to the window to get a better view of the darkened stage below.
A brilliant spotlight illuminated the center of the stage, where a platform began its ascent.
Mila took in the breathtaking scene, the masterful harp music filling the air, undeniably impressive and beautiful.
As she mused, she noticed movement in the adjacent window.
Turning her gaze, she saw Lysander standing there, fixated on Giselle’s radiant performance, his eyes filled with rapt admiration.
Mila’s expression remained unchanged.
She quietly stepped back, intending to sit on a wooden chair further from the window to watch, but then she froze again.
Her aunt sat in that chair, her gaze locked onto Giselle, her face a storm of emotions, hands clenched tightly on the armrests.
Seeing Jade’s distress, Mila hurried over, concern in her voice. Aunt, what’s wrong?