Maylily - Chapter 1

“Is it really so damned hard to find a single wench?!”

The furious voice of an uninvited guest stormed in with such ferocity that it shook the old window fogged with frost. At that very moment, James, who had been sighing as he processed the invoice sent by an employee dispatched to the north in search of that man’s daughter, put down his pen.

Buhinga, in the capital city of Roden in Riverton, was notorious for being filled with low-life gamblers and drunkards. It was laughable even to discuss the quality of clients who visited the detective agency tucked away at the far end of a back alley, but even among them, this one was truly the worst.

“How many nineteen-year-old women from Purdshire do you think there are? If you had at least known your daughter’s name, things would’ve progressed much faster.”

Exactly. This pitiful man claimed to be looking for his daughter, yet didn’t even know her name.

One might wonder if such a heartless and shameless father could exist, but it was too soon to be shocked. The reason this human scum had now decided to search for the daughter he had neglected for over a decade was even more vile.

Victor Heywood, the second son of a humble baronial family, had inherited a meager fortune. Even that was squandered in a string of failed investments and gambling, plunging him into a pit of debt. He had neither the ability nor the will to work off that debt.

Last summer, dreaming of a dramatic reversal of fortune, he gathered every last coin to invest in a gold mine development, only for it to fail. With nowhere to turn for a loan from regular banks, Victor found himself backed into a corner as the repayment deadline for his debt to Marcus Cobb, a notorious loan shark in Buhin, loomed just months away.

For a man who had been trembling in fear at the thought of being dragged off as a slave to a colonial mine, it was surprising to see Victor striding confidently back onto the streets just two weeks ago.

“Would you believe it, turns out I’ve got a long-lost daughter. She’ll soon be the one to save my neck. Viscount Dawson promised to pay off my debt in exchange for marrying her. If I’m lucky and she resembles me, someone might even offer more than that old geezer.”

Victor Heywood was the epitome of a man devoid of responsibility and duty. Nearing fifty and still unmarried, he had a long-time mistress with whom he had no children.

So when people saw him swaggering around reeking of alcohol, they figured he’d finally gone mad after floundering in his miserable life. Even James would’ve agreed with that thought, if not for one seemingly credible item Victor presented when requesting the search for his daughter.

A faded envelope with an old postal mark. Inside was a letter announcing the birth of a child from the woman who had once been involved with Victor. The letter bore a date from nineteen years ago and the woman’s name.

That was the only clue to the identity of Victor’s nameless daughter.

“Isn’t that what I hired you to figure out?! If you’re going to spout useless nonsense, then give back the money I paid you. There are plenty of detectives out on the streets of Roden who can take your place.”

James would have loved to throw those pitiful advance fees in the man’s face and spit on him. But he had a reason to restrain that impulse.

“Please keep Victor Heywood distracted until further notice. We’ll periodically send someone from our side to check on the progress. The slower the investigation, the better.”

A week ago, a young man with an intellectual appearance and gold-rimmed glasses had visited and made a discreet proposal. He added that the longer the cooperation lasted, the greater the reward.

Judging by his appearance, he was likely a servant of a wealthy noble. He never disclosed his identity, and James didn’t bother asking. What good would a possibly fake name do? In this city, the only sure guarantee was money.

Knowing this well, the man handed over a retainer, which James accepted without hesitation. There was no need to calculate which side—Victor or the man—was more profitable.

Suppressing his irritation with thoughts of the additional payment he was set to receive the next day, James opened his mouth.

“I’m not blaming you, my lord. I’m just explaining why the investigation isn’t moving quickly. It hasn’t even been ten days, so please be patient. Our employee is currently tracking down the house where your daughter lived after she was born, so we’ll have new information soon. If you change detectives now, wouldn’t it only delay the investigation further as they’ll have to start from scratch?”

Softened by the smooth persuasion, Victor reluctantly eased his expression. He knew better than anyone that even if he got his paltry advance back, it wouldn’t solve anything. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his glossy blond hair.

“My heart’s been so troubled lately, I raised my voice without meaning to. You understand, right? My situation isn’t exactly great right now.”

“Of course, I understand. Isn’t it a parent’s instinct to go all out when it comes to their child?”

“Exactly! Think about it. If she takes after me, don’t you think the men around her would be all over her? I can’t sleep at night worrying that my only daughter might end up with the wrong man and ruin her life.”

It was shameless beyond belief for someone who hadn’t acted as a father for even a single day to say such things, but James couldn’t help but agree, at least to some extent.

For someone who didn’t have a penny to his name.

Victor’s appearance was so refined it was hard to believe he was a pauper. His delicate, finely-shaped face had a purity to it, despite being a man, and he took excellent care of himself. He looked five or six years younger than his peers at the very least.

If she inherited those looks, she’d no doubt be a beauty capable of turning the heads of many men.

The irony was that Victor, worried his daughter might be ruined by some man, was likely the very man who’d ruin her life.

***

On a morning when the lingering cold had finally given way to a palpable sense of spring, Maylily’s steps across the courtyard—where greenery just awakened from winter was beginning to stretch—felt as light as walking on clouds.

It was the day of the stage rehearsal for the spring season repertoire. Though it wasn’t an official performance, the thought of finally standing on the stage of the Roden Opera House she had long dreamed of made her heart swell. Her light green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she entered the theater.

The second-floor dressing room she reached after climbing the stairs was bustling with chorus members preparing for rehearsal. As she stepped in, removing her thick wool gloves, Maylily offered a nod to a few members who met her gaze.

As always, no one returned the greeting. Letting out a shallow sigh, Maylily was putting away her scarf and gloves into the cabinet when it happened.

“Oh my, did you come to work wearing a stage costume?”

Vanessa Fritz, who had sidled up to her unnoticed, looked over Maylily’s outfit and asked. The navy dress, with buttons as its only decoration, had faded from countless washings.

“No, this is my own dress.”

It wasn’t a strange response in the least, yet the group behind Vanessa snickered.

“Ah, really? I thought it was a costume, it’s so old-fashioned. I mean, you are a country bumpkin.”

Maylily had taken on the role of a country girl in another production, not the one being rehearsed today. But she knew that Vanessa wasn’t referring only to that role when she called her a ‘bumpkin,’ so she kept her mouth shut.

‘Bumpkin.’ It was the derogatory term Vanessa’s clique used to refer to Maylily behind her back.

“Where does someone even buy clothes like that?”

“Doesn’t it look like something inherited from a grandmother?”

“No way, surely she’s not that poor.”

Leaving Maylily without a word in reply, Vanessa’s group giggled and returned to their seats. Their rude and noisy behavior was silently ignored by the other members.

Vanessa was the niece of Martin Fritz, the director of the Roden Opera Company. No one here would stand up to her on Maylily’s behalf, not against someone with the power of a workplace superior behind her.

The bullying led by Vanessa had started last summer, when Maylily joined the troupe.

The Roden Opera Company was the most prestigious in Riverton, composed mostly of elite members from renowned music academies. In contrast, Maylily had graduated from a small rural music school and worked with a provincial opera company before transferring here thanks to her recognized talent and effort.

Vanessa likely thought that someone like Maylily, who hadn’t followed the traditional elite path, lowered the company’s standards, and thus rejected and looked down on her. Fortunately or unfortunately, Maylily had grown accustomed to this kind of treatment.

“Apparently, that girl’s mom isn’t really her mom but her aunt, right?”

“No wonder she’s the only one in the family with a different surname.”

“They say her mom died right after giving birth. No one knows who the father was, either.”

Branded with the label of an illegitimate child, her life had been forged through scorn and contempt from a young age, so this level of bullying was something she could handle with composure. More than anything, the path she had walked might look different, but it was one she could be proud of.

So don’t shrink back. A singer isn’t judged by their background but by their voice.

She might be a nameless performer for now, but she had confidence she’d one day stand at the highest point on stage and be recognized for her talent. Without fail, that day would come.

Taking a deep breath to muster her spirits, Maylily began changing clothes as if nothing had happened.