Chapter 129

The tension in the room dissolved as the audience erupted in laughter.

"You've got quite the wit, Ms. Carter," the host remarked with an amused grin. "While it's true that masters become subjects of study for aspiring perfumers, few truly grasp the depth of their craft. Tell me, how much do you believe you understand about Master Beaumont's work?"

His tone carried a playful challenge, deliberately stirring the atmosphere. The crowd leaned forward, energized by the earlier exchange. The question was deceptively simple yet perilous to answer.

Too bold a claim would seem presumptuous. Too modest would appear insecure.

Evelyn's lips curved into a knowing smile.

"I wouldn't presume to understand a master's essence completely," she began, her voice clear as crystal. "Every perfumer knows our art springs from unique visions. Each creation carries its maker's fingerprint - distinct inspirations, unexpected turns in the creative process."

She gestured gracefully. "Minds are labyrinths. We can never truly walk another's path. What I can share are my personal impressions of Master Beaumont's latest work."

On stage, Evelyn shone like dawn breaking through mist. Her posture radiated quiet assurance, every word measured yet spontaneous. The audience found themselves nodding along, unconsciously captivated.

In the VIP balcony overlooking the event, a man's fingers stilled around his champagne flute, his gaze fixed on the luminous figure below.

The sampling session buzzed with renewed energy as emerging talents took center stage. For novices, this was golden opportunity - to learn, to connect, to be seen.

Vanessa's manicured nails dug into her palms. Each laugh, each flash of camera lights twisted the knife deeper. She'd sacrificed everything to climb this industry's ladder, collecting awards like stepping stones. Yet here she stood - invisible, forgotten.

I should never have come to this circus.

She pivoted sharply toward the exit.

"Madame!" The host's voice cut through the hum. "Yes, you in the crimson gown! The stunning lady by the aisle!"

A spotlight blinded Vanessa. The entire room turned in unison.

Her spine stiffened. For one wild moment, she prayed she'd misheard.

"Would you honor us by joining us on stage?" The host beamed, arm outstretched.

Trapped beneath hundreds of curious stares, retreat was impossible. Vanessa forced her limbs to move, each step heavier than the last. She kept her gaze fixed on some distant point above the crowd, refusing to meet any eyes - especially not hers.

The stage lights burned hotter up close. Vanessa stood rigid, staring straight ahead at nothing, as if by sheer will she could vanish from this nightmare.