"Thank you."
"Thank me for what?"
"Thank you for making me believe… happiness might really exist."
As she spoke, light flowed in her eyes.
It wasn't candlelight, but the glimmer of unshed tears.
Arthur lowered his head, his gaze falling on the strand of hair gilded by the light on her shoulder.
He didn't answer, just gently reached out to adjust the slipping shawl.
The music gradually slowed.
The last piece of melody seemed to transform into a golden butterfly, resting on the dome of the palace, trembling its wings.
The crowd erupted in enthusiastic applause, noble ladies stood up with smiles, gentlemen doffed their hats in salutation.
The applause was like waves, one after another.
And in that golden commotion, Flora's world was eerily quiet.
Her hand still lay in Arthur's palm, gently enveloped by him.
She whispered, "I really hope this music never stops."
Arthur, gazing at the stage, softly replied, "It indeed will not stop."
"Why?"
