Masterpiece

After William Wong finished reciting the entire poem, the second floor of the Spring Chamber fell into a profound silence. Outside, the Apricot Grove was alive with laughter and conversation, a stark contrast to the hushed awe inside the hall. Every face reflected a myriad of emotions: shock, bewilderment, rapture, sorrow, joy...

Time seemed to stand still until a gust of cold wind swept through the window, lifting the much-admired sheet of paper from the table. In a swift, synchronized motion, everyone reached out to gently catch it, as if safeguarding a priceless treasure from being lost to the breeze.

"Brilliant... absolutely brilliant!" William Wong, usually composed, now exclaimed with unrestrained excitement, his voice resonating with admiration and delight. The excitement was palpable, a testament to the profound impact of the poem.

"Such a masterpiece is truly rare in this world!" echoed Jeam Yew, visibly moved.

"Indeed, a once-in-a-lifetime creation," added another official, tears brimming in his eyes. "To witness the birth of such a work is a gift in itself."

Even Gideon Astor, the Peerless King, who had always maintained his composure, stood up, visibly shaken by the poem's depth. "This author's talent surpasses all in Avaloria," he acknowledged solemnly.

The others, including Prince Emeric Astor and Princess Elowen Astor, as well as the two younger princes, Orion and Caspian Astor, were left speechless. They knew they were witnessing something extraordinary, far beyond their ability to critique or fully appreciate.

The room was filled with a sense of reverence, a collective realization that they had encountered a rare gem of literary brilliance.

Princess Elowen Astor was deeply touched by the poem she had just heard. Despite her composed exterior, the poem's sublime beauty and its depiction of an ethereal world stirred something profound within her. She silently memorized the verses, marveling at the talent of the author.

The Eastern Ridge Prefect, feeling vindicated by the shocked reactions of the others, thought to himself with satisfaction, "I knew this poem was extraordinary."

"Who wrote this poem?" William Wong suddenly asked, curious about the identity of the talented author. To avoid bias, each poem's author was anonymized, written on the back of the paper. This piqued everyone's curiosity; who could be behind such a masterwork?

Before the Eastern Ridge Prefect could reveal the author's name, the Western Ridge Prefect gestured towards William Wong and Gideon Astor, suggesting they wait for the two to finish their contemplation.

William Wong was lost in thought, marveling at the combination of sublime calligraphy and unmatched poetic depth. "Who in Avaloria could write both so beautifully and thoughtfully? This must be the work of an unknown master," he pondered.

Even Gideon Astor, usually composed, couldn't hide his astonishment. "Quick, let's see who this person is. We must invite them to join us," he urged.

The translation preserves the essence of the dialogue, conveying the amazement and admiration felt by the characters upon encountering such an exceptional piece of poetry.

Gideon Astor commanded the Eastern Ridge Prefect to reveal the author's name. Everyone crowded around, including Orion Astor, Caspian Astor, and Emeric Astor. William Wong peered over shoulders, eager to see. Only Gideon and Elowen Astor waited, unable to see the name.

The prefect carefully turned the paper, revealing the title of "Deputy Lord of Silverwood City."

Confusion arose, as few knew of this city. As they read the name of the author, shock spread. William Wong, surprised, accidentally bumped into the prefect, causing a moment of pain but no distraction from the incredible revelation.

Emeric Astor, the prince, asked his brother, Orion, who the author was. Orion hesitated, then finally admitted, "Father, it's... it's our brother!"

Gideon Astor's calm demeanor shattered. His powerful aura momentarily threatened to destroy the surroundings before he regained control. The revelation that his youngest son, known for his lack of seriousness, had authored this masterpiece, stunned him deeply.

Gideon Astor stared intently at Orion, who stiffened under his father's intense gaze. Confirming the unbelievable truth, Orion acknowledged, "Yes, it was him."

Gideon's focus shifted to the astounded officials, including William Wong, whose wide eyes and open mouth mirrored their shock. They couldn't believe that such a masterpiece was written by the notorious Emeric Astor.

"Impossible! Absolutely not!" William Wong vehemently denied the possibility, refusing to accept that a frivolous young man like Emeric could produce such a literary gem. "Such an extraordinary piece could only come from an exceptional talent, not someone... like Emeric," he said, catching himself just in time to avoid offending Gideon.

Elowen Astor, too, couldn't reconcile the idea that the author of the poignant poem was the same Emeric who had once embarrassingly appeared in her chamber. She was certain it couldn't be him.

William Wong suggested it might be another Emeric Astor, which seemed a more plausible explanation to the gathering. But Orion pointed out that there was only one Deputy Lord of Silverwood City.

Gideon recalled appointing his son as the Deputy Lord of Silverwood City. He was struck by the realization that the poet behind the exquisite verses could indeed be his son, a revelation that left him, along with everyone else, in utter disbelief.