Flowers, Swords and France

As the last ray of sunlight faded, Paris was enveloped by the night. The bustling crowd was freed from their busy work and returned to their homes for a moment of rest. However, unlike the vast majority of workers, for the social circles of this country, night does not mean the end of the day, but the beginning of the day.

The Paris Opera House, located on the Avenue de l'Italie, had a large number of beautifully shaped carriages engraved with various patterns parked outside the door early. This grand occasion is rare on weekdays, and it obviously indicates that tonight's performance is definitely not ordinary.

With the guidance of the melodious music, tonight's performance has reached the most exciting section.

Summer nights would originally make people feel bored and uneasy, but the originally noisy audience was silent at this time, holding their breath and staring at what was going on on the stage. Even the well-dressed ladies in the box forgot to show off their charm in front of the audience, but just stared at the singers on the stage.

The singer's face was covered with a thick layer of powder, which made him look even paler, as if he was wearing an exquisite mask. Therefore, his age could not be seen, but from the outline of his face, he was handsome. However, all the audience was not paying attention to his face at this time, but his incomparable voice.

In the center of the stage, in the focus of all eyes, he seemed to be unaware and continued to sing in ecstasy. His voice was pure and crisp, and it was difficult to find such a pure voice even among female voices.

At first, his singing was very low, and then his music gradually increased little by little, slowly rising to the high pitch. After singing a long aria in the high pitch, the music slowly weakened in the same way and fell to the bass.

He kept raising and lowering the pitch repeatedly, showing everyone his impressive control of the music. The original opera aria. Under his control, it seemed to have become a gorgeous and exaggerated showmanship performance by the singer on the stage.

Everyone watched his performance, listened to his voice, and immersed themselves in the highest level of audio-visual enjoyment of this era.

As he sang, a section of lyrics ended, and the singing stopped. The singer raised his head and looked at every audience member. It seemed that he was waiting for the cheers and applause he deserved.

Immediately, the applause sounded like thunder, and almost everyone was cheering. Even the originally proud ladies couldn't help shouting and asked him to continue the current performance. This cheering lasted for several minutes. After the applause of the audience subsided, he continued to sing. This time, the singing was very brisk, both pleasant and light. The rhythm was so brisk that it seemed that even the violin accompanying the side could hardly keep up.

At this time, the emotions of the audience had been mobilized to the highest point. They listened and applauded and cheered involuntarily. The audience in the audience and the actors on the stage. In this music and cheers, they intertwined together and became the accompaniment of this flashy era.

This was a perfect performance. Almost every audience member was impressed by the singer's talent. They were amazed at his almost flawless voice.

"What a perfect performance!"

In her own box, Fran, who was looking at the stage with a telescope in her hand, couldn't help but sigh softly.

Although she was not as selfless as most people, she was also somewhat amazed by such a superb performance. She looked at the singer who was immersed in his singing and suddenly felt an indescribable touch.

How much did he pay to get such a voice like a work of art! Is it worth paying such a price to get the eternity of this moment?

She found that she couldn't answer this question.

Because. The singer was a castrato, a defective product artificially created in pursuit of a perfect voice.

[In the Renaissance. After the rise of opera in Italy, in order to adapt to the singing of complex counterpoint techniques of hymns. At the same time, in order to solve the problem of male singers' voice changes during puberty, castrato singers came into being.

Castrati usually undergo castration when they are boys, so that when they grow up, they have both the physique and lung capacity of men, and can keep the vocal cords and larynx of their childhood. Castrati singers who have undergone rigorous vocal training have a high range of female voices, and a strong breath of male voices. They have the pure, soft, and delicate voice of women and the deep energy of men. Their lung capacity and diaphragm support are amazing, and a high note can even last for a minute. 】

"Some things are destined to be imperfect in order to pursue perfection!" Accompanied by the singer's chant, Fran suddenly sighed as if she had thought of something.

Aren't my brother and I destined to be unable to be together?

"Beautiful Miss Treville, we idiots don't understand the artistic criticism you are talking about." At this moment, Marquis Treville, who was standing next to her, suddenly spoke with great interest, "But I can bear the responsibility. To be honest, although today's performance is very good, it is not the best. Don't think that grandpa is bragging. I went to Italy in 1808. The Duke of Leuchtenberg was very hospitable, and he invited me to listen to it a few times. Second-rate Ma Kesi’s singing, haha! It’s so good that it’s indescribable. You can’t imagine the scene. We in the audience went crazy and threw a lot of them on the stage after the performance. Coins, and someone even threw a ring! Although today’s person is pretty good, he still hasn’t reached the level of MacKay, so I pity these people who are so happy that they have never seen real people. Good stuff!”

[The Duke of Leuchtenberg refers to Napoleon's stepson Eugène de Beauharnais (1781-1824), who was deeply valued by Napoleon and served as the governor of Italy during the imperial era, ruling the northern Italian region.

Marhesi (1754-1829), a famous castrato singer, had a very beautiful singing voice and was extremely popular at the time. 】

"Maybe, grandpa..."

This old general from the pre-imperial era especially likes to reminisce about the past. No matter what we talk about, we can't help but mention that year. As a granddaughter, Fran was used to her grandfather's hobby, so she just smiled and stopped arguing.

"But, as long as you like it, that's fine, good boy." It seemed that he found that his talk about his hobbies back then was a little frustrating to his granddaughter. The old Marquis couldn't help but quickly changed the topic. "In short, in my heart, although tonight's performance is very good, it is not as good as my granddaughter."

His words were not completely complimentary, because Fran at this time could indeed be called a stunning beauty.

Fran was wearing a white gauze dress. Through the flower-like lace, the exposed skin under the neck seems to be dazzlingly white, and the golden hair is combed into the popular British hairstyle, which is even more vivid. To add another weapon to her coquettish career, she held a fan in her hand. He appeared fully armed in the box that attracted everyone's attention.

Because she was his granddaughter, the old Marquis was somewhat biased in his evaluation. However, after dressing up, Fran was indeed beyond imagination. At least tonight, she was qualified to become the most eye-catching star in the opera house.

Although everyone's attention was attracted by the castrato on the stage just now, when the performance came to an end, those eyes began to focus on Fran, as if they began to talk about who she was.

Those who are either envious or jealous. There were even some malicious glances, which made Fran feel a little uncomfortable, but she still had to pretend not to feel anything. Watch the performance on the stage intently. It's rare that grandpa goes out to play with him. He just wants to make himself happy. How can he spoil his fun?

However, I really don’t know why Charlotte is so happy about this kind of thing? He's such an empty-headed guy who only knows vanity. In order to vent the discomfort accumulated in her heart, Fran kept taunting Charlotte in her mind to divert her attention.

"See? Miss, everyone is looking at you now." Her grandfather did not notice the true feelings in her heart at this moment. He said enthusiastically in Fran's ear, "I'm sure they are asking who you are. There are also many people who must be thinking about how to get close to you... just like we did back then."

"Grandpa, what you said is right. You just treat me like a doll that has been carefully put on the shelf." Fran's face turned red slightly, "Should I be happy about this?"

"Of course, is there anything not to be happy about?" The old Marquis said with a very relaxed expression, "I would only feel sad if no one cared about my granddaughter."

"Do you really want me to get married?" Fran couldn't help but frown slightly, "Grandpa, I said, I know what to do with this kind of thing... I want to stay by your side."

"Silly boy, can't you stay by my side if you get married? Do you think your brother and I will abandon you? How is that possible?" The old Marquis couldn't help but laugh, "Besides, Grandpa doesn't I’m not forcing you to get married right away, I just want you to get to know more people and have more choices for the future. Is there anything wrong with this? Since you don’t like that guy Phillip, then meet him more in the social world. Meet people, there will always be someone you think is suitable..."

"But I just don't think anyone is suitable, and there won't be anyone." Fran's cheeks bulged slightly, and there seemed to be some girlish childishness left in her eyebrows, so that no one could find out what was hidden deep in her words. That means.

——There is no one except that person.

"It's hard to say this. Maybe you will be more active than me by then." The old Marquis shrugged, obviously not paying attention to his granddaughter's resistance, "Anyway, don't blame grandpa for being too involved, grandson. Your grandma died early. She passed away not long after we returned to France. She was such a young lady. She escaped from the riots in France and fled with her family. Go to Germany, and then live a poor life with me for so many years. I don’t know how much suffering I suffered during this time. Before she died, I swore on my bed that I would never remarry, and I would never let our children and grandchildren remarry. After enduring the hardships we suffered back then, we must let you live a life that everyone envies... Now that our family has finally regained its power, I have to make some arrangements for you..."

Fran listened quietly to her grandfather's chatter. Although her grandfather had already talked about this matter many times, Fran was not bored at all by his clichés because the true feelings contained in them made it impossible for her to feel disgusted.

Read the original text in Liu#9@书/吧!

Even if it's for Grandpa, I have to brace myself to cope.

"Grandpa, I know, I will communicate well with others." Fran nodded towards the old Marquis, with a smile that was mixed with innocence and coquettishness on her face, which was enough to impress anyone.

"Haha, that's good!" The old Marquis was obviously very happy. "Then I'll go out first and catch up with some friends. You can watch the opera here alone first."

Then he winked and said, "If you have guests coming, you must treat them well!"...

After saying that, he left the box directly, as if he wanted to create space for his granddaughter to socialize with friends.

Fran looked at her grandfather's leaving figure. After the door of the box was closed again, she suddenly felt her heart tightening.

What should I do if someone does come to visit me? Her thoughts became a little messy, and she realized that she had not received much education in this area, nor had she made much preparation in this area.

Although she may be a bit arrogant, Fran believes that objectively she may have a good chance of being pursued.

Regardless of appearance, her surname is de Treville. Although the surname is no longer so valuable in this era, it is still a famous family after all.

Moreover, she has a grandfather who has held an important military position and is rumored to be about to obtain the title of marshal; she also has a brother who also holds great power and is an important confidant of the president. Yes, brother...

If you look at it this way, even if some people intend to get close to you, it is not unimaginable to pursue you, right?

But...it's still hard to accept.

After thinking about it for a moment, Fran decided that if there really was such a person, she would use the method she had learned from others to reject him in a polite but unmisleading way - in the social world. Women have never lacked vocabulary in this area.

Just when Fran was freed from such chaotic thoughts, there was a soft knock on the door.

So fast?

Fran was shocked.

After a moment, she regained her composure, and then tightly held the fan in her hand - it was the most precious gift that her eldest brother had given her since she was a child.

A burst of energy seemed to be transmitted from the warm fan bone, giving her an unspeakable courage unconsciously.

"Come in," she whispered.

However, after a moment, Fran's original vigilance disappeared.

The woman in front of her was not wearing makeup and was looking at him with an elegant smile.

"Your Highness?"