Arthur Pendleton's eyebrows shot up in genuine astonishment.

"Just high school? But judging by her technique, she must have trained for at least fifteen years. Mr. Blackwood, are you absolutely certain about her educational background?"

If Amy Sinclair had begun violin lessons at five, she'd have been playing until twenty. While innate talent was crucial in music, nothing could substitute for years of disciplined practice and proper instruction. That level of mastery simply couldn't be achieved through self-teaching alone.

Moreover, the sophistication and nuance in her performance—it was impossible to develop that in isolation. Even someone of his caliber couldn't cultivate a student to that standard without exposing them to diverse musical influences.

Arthur was convinced: the woman in that recording had undergone extensive professional training.

Standing nearby, Victoria Langley struggled to conceal her mounting irritation. The entire discussion kept circling back to Amy, and it was eating at her.

She cut in sharply, "It's the truth. Alexander is her husband—he wouldn't lie about something this basic."

Arthur gave her a knowing glance. "Or perhaps, Mr. Blackwood, your wife isn't as transparent as you believe?"

A subtle tension coiled in Alexander Blackwood's chest.

He'd always thought he understood Amy completely. But recently, her actions had shaken that certainty—he hadn't even known she played violin.

Arthur's voice pulled him back to the present.

"I understand families like yours often prefer their wives to maintain low profiles. If your wife doesn't wish to perform publicly, that's perfectly acceptable. But if she finds time, perhaps she could attend some masterclasses."

Victoria's eyes widened in disbelief.

She knew Arthur's invitations were merely preliminary—he would observe candidates for months before considering them as students. His standards were legendary, bordering on impossible; over decades, he'd extended countless invitations but accepted fewer than twenty pupils.

Victoria had assumed even if Arthur admired Amy's playing, he wouldn't seriously consider her. But his tone suggested otherwise.

Why Amy? She hadn't touched a violin in five years! What made her so exceptional in Arthur's eyes?

Biting back resentment, Victoria forced a polite smile. "Mr. Pendleton, it's not that Alexander forbids her. She's simply too busy with the children to spare time."

"Truthfully, Alexander's wife was a violinist before marriage, but after starting a family, she quit to become a homemaker. Alexander has encouraged her to return to work repeatedly, but she refuses. And it's not as if he can't support her—he just won't force her against her will."

"In fact, she hasn't played in five years. That video was recorded half a decade ago..."

Her implication was clear: Amy had only pursued music to secure a wealthy husband.

Arthur's expression darkened with visible disappointment.

"Five years without playing after marriage?"

He recalled another prodigy—a piano virtuoso from crushing poverty.

Recognizing her gift, Arthur had personally mentored her, purchased her first grand piano, and arranged her education at elite institutions.

He'd expected her to shine in the music world after graduation. Instead, she married immediately.

While he understood wanting family life, what devastated him was how she abandoned her craft entirely, becoming a full-time mother.

When he later urged her to resume performing, she'd accused him of overstepping, calling his encouragement emotional blackmail.