"Kristin, I think you should understand the current situation, shouldn't you?"
In a luxurious hotel in Baijing.
Inside the room.
The video call interface on the phone.
A noblewoman sat on a chair, the oak paneling behind her reflecting an amber color like whiskey. That was the study in the old London residence—where Nannali once knelt under those reliefs, practicing the violin until her knees were bruised and bleeding.
The pair of eyes, nine-tenths similar to Nannali's, calmly stared at the girl.
"After this September, when this competition is over, you should also follow our request to withdraw from school and return to the UK. We will arrange for you to attend the best Music Academy..."
"I understand, Mother."
Nannali placed her hands on her knees, her expression anxious and uneasy, and said in a low voice,
"But, the competition isn't over yet, is it..."
Nannali slowly lifted her head, not daring to meet her mother's gaze on the screen.
"If I win this time..."
