Chapter 70

Chapter 70

"Impossible! There has to be a conspiracy!" Pearl bit her lower lip, her knuckles white.

The Golden Throne only awarded gold, silver, and bronze prizes—the top three. Any placement beyond that wasn't announced. So, if you didn't make the top three, your final ranking was irrelevant.

Watching the dazzling Priscilla on stage, Pearl instinctively started to rise from her seat.

"What are you doing?" Quinlan's quick reflexes stopped her.

Pearl's eyes were red-rimmed. She couldn't understand it.

"Everyone is watching! Let's go to the dressing room first!" Quinlan said, struggling to keep her own emotions in check.

Reluctantly, Pearl allowed Quinlan to pull her backstage.

Inside the dressing room, Pearl couldn't contain her fury any longer. The moment she entered, she slammed her handbag onto the table. The diamond embellishments scattered across the floor.

Quinlan sat in a chair, letting the makeup artist fix her hair. She watched Pearl's tantrum in the mirror. "Don't make a fool of yourself!" Quinlan's tone was sharp. There were still plenty of reporters outside. If they were photographed now, who knew what the headlines would say.

But Pearl was too consumed by her emotions to care. "Quinlan, I could accept anyone else winning the gold, but not Priscilla!" Pearl gritted her teeth. "Didn't you say before that the school Priscilla went to abroad was a third-rate university? There's no one who actually studies in a place like that!"

"Who knows how many men she's been with at that school! Quinlan, you have to help me!" Pearl grabbed Quinlan's arm.

Quinlan frowned, looking at Pearl with confusion. "I agree, something feels wrong. But I don't know any of the Golden Throne judges. I can't help you."

The Golden Throne show was broadcast live. The results were already out. The news was all over the internet. Even if they pulled strings, it was too late to change anything.

Pearl leaned in and whispered something in Quinlan's ear.

After a brief hesitation, Quinlan took out her phone. "I can only give you a contact. The rest is up to you."

In the banquet hall, the atmosphere was pleasant. Everyone had changed into their evening wear, and soft music played as guests mingled in small groups.

Priscilla was undoubtedly the center of attention.

Tatum, holding a glass of champagne, approached her. "Congratulations," she said, tilting her glass slightly.

Priscilla clinked her glass against Tatum's. "Thank you."

They had met before at a competition abroad, but seeing each other again in Avalonia felt different.

"I knew you had the talent, but I'm curious. Why hide your identity when you're so capable?" Tatum tilted her head, asking.

During the competition abroad, Tatum had been just an assistant, learning from her mentor. At that time, Priscilla was a rising star, well-liked by her professors. Tatum had even approached Priscilla before, but with so many similar events, it was easy to forget faces seen only once or twice.

Priscilla took a sip of champagne. "Coming back to Avalonia meant starting over."

"I admire your courage. But with your talent, I'm sure you can make a name for yourself anywhere," Tatum's gaze fell on Priscilla's dress. "During the show, was this the dress you were wearing?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Priscilla nodded.

"It's the same dress, but how did it change color? Is it some kind of high-tech fabric?" Tatum asked, intrigued.

Priscilla gently lifted a silk ribbon on the dress. "It's because it's made of tussah silk."

As the two of them delved into the details of the dress, upstairs in a private lounge, Mireille held a glass of juice, biting her lower lip. Beside her, Algernon was equally silent.

"Mr. Visconti, I have to say, you have excellent judgment," Mireille finally said after a long pause.

Algernon glanced down at her. "I believe in her."

"Alright, Mr. Visconti, I understand everything you've just told me. But I still have to ask, why do you want to pursue Priscilla?" Mireille turned, her expression serious.

A moment ago, when no one was around, Algernon had invited her into this private room. She had assumed he wanted to discuss business, but to her surprise, he wanted to talk about her best friend's love life. Mireille had been truly taken aback.

"I'm in love with her." Algernon said.

Mireille's temper flared. "In love with her? With all due respect, Mr. Visconti, if you so much as crooked your finger, women of all kinds would be lining up for you. Your words are hardly reassuring. It sounds like you're not taking this seriously." Mireille's tone was sharp, laced with anger.

Algernon looked at her. "If she's willing, I'm ready to marry her at any time." He thought for a moment and added, "The kind of love that involves a marriage certificate and a public announcement."

At the mention of a marriage certificate, Mireille's anger subsided. She glared at him. Knowing his habits, if he was proposing marriage, he must have already investigated Priscilla. Mireille didn't doubt Algernon's capabilities.

"Fine, I'll give you a chance. But if you make her sad, don't blame me for what I'll do!" Mireille put down her glass. A pang of guilt hit her. Why did she feel like she was betraying her friend?

Before leaving, Mireille looked back at Algernon. "So, you must know who the father of Priscilla's child is, right?" She had asked impulsively, but Algernon nodded.

"I do," he admitted.

"What?" Mireille stared at him, stunned. "Who is it?"

"Me." Algernon said seriously.

Mireille took a deep breath. Everyone said Algernon was a genius, but at this moment, she thought he had lost his mind. "If she's carrying your child, why doesn't she know? And why did you let her give birth alone abroad?" Mireille's face turned cold. It was clear Algernon's feelings were genuine, but it was also clear he was delusional.

Faced with Mireille's questions, Algernon was silent for a moment. "I will give you a satisfactory answer, but not now," he said.

Mireille's expression was complicated. She left without another word.

Meanwhile, Priscilla was oblivious to what was happening upstairs. She and Tatum were deep in conversation.

Talk turned to the competition, and Tatum looked at her, puzzled. "By the way, why didn't you go see Ms. Aries Turner today?"

"Ms. Turner?" Priscilla frowned. "Was she one of the judges?"

Now it was Tatum's turn to be surprised. "Your mentor was a judge, and you didn't know?"