After a long, ethereal melody, a cello materialized before Lucian. He turned toward it with perfect timing and drew out a sound as deep and resonant as a man's voice, while the violin, now bereft of support, simply floated in midair—an eerie and uncanny sight.
Immersed in the romantic atmosphere woven from the mellow cello and the airy violin answering one another, Natasha found herself recalling how she and Lucian had first met. It was because of the Fate Symphony that their destinies first became entwined. Through their shared love of music, Lucian's easygoing humor, and the endearing way he would sometimes become flustered, she had gradually become his friend. She discovered more and more of his qualities beyond music—his composure, his warmth, his cleverness and playfulness. Being around him carried no pressure; she could simply be herself.
It had been a stretch of life as beautiful as the scenery of March and April. Perhaps it was within that ever-deepening friendship that she had forgotten Lucian's gender entirely, laying the groundwork for the feelings that would eventually bloom.
In the midst of a lighthearted, joyful melody, the harp and other instruments behind and beside Lucian began playing of their own accord, alternating with his violin.
These instruments seemed to possess souls of their own, combining into the ensemble of a full symphony orchestra—as though a quartet of transparent musicians were performing alongside Lucian.
Under the effects of Arcane Magic, Lucian alone produced the feeling of a small symphony orchestra.
The gentle violin once again "stood" beside the majestic cello. The hidden tenderness, the ache of a farewell that neither side wished for—these sentiments surfaced clearly in Natasha's heart. It was the parting after a harrowing escape through life and death, after supporting each other through it all. Lucian was about to leave Altor and journey to Holm. Though she believed there would be opportunities to meet again, and though she had considered what was best for Lucian's future, she waved goodbye with composure and resolve. Yet in her heart, the ache of missing him had begun even before they separated.
Perhaps it was at that moment—when Lucian had carried her steadfastly on his back through the dark forest—that their friendship had undergone its first fundamental shift. But because of the wound Sylvia had inflicted and the blind spots created by her own self-perception, she had dismissed it as nothing more than the bond between dear friends.
Amid the brass, a grim and solemn melody emerged. Grief, fear, uncertainty, and sorrow poured forth as the violin contended with the orchestra's allegro. Natasha felt as though she could sense Lucian's hesitation, his anguish, and his wavering after realizing he had fallen for her. The memory of her tribulations at the convent resurfaced as well—the only consolation being Lucian's letters. Yet as he ventured ever further down the path of Arcane Magic, as he repeatedly brought shame upon the Holy Scripture and the Church Canon, it seemed that even their friendship could no longer survive the gulf between him and her—a devout believer and future Grand Duchess.
A thread of resolve and indignation bled through the violin. Natasha seemed to hear the sigh Lucian had let out when he finally made up his mind. For her part, she too had overcome countless inner barriers and continued to regard Lucian as her dearest friend, just as before. But the pressure of the Church, the pressure of the principality, her father's pressure, the pressure of the Violet family, and the pressure of her subjects—all of it cast a shadow over everything. They descended like successive waves of violent storm, heralding a possible tragic end.
Looking back, Natasha realized that from that time onward, she had regarded Lucian as the most tranquil and tender place in her soul—only it had been shrouded in layer upon layer of fog by long-held habit.
Lucian continued to play the violin, while the cello, unattended, slowly began plucking its own strings, as though listening to the violin's tender confession. Then Lucian moved to the cello, and the violin played on as if moved by an invisible hand—it had reached the stage of a man's passionate declaration.
This conjured before Natasha's eyes the beautiful scene of their reunion in Holm, when they had finally confirmed their feelings for one another. Sweet without being cloying, warm and timeless. But this tender reverie had hardly lingered before the melody plunged downward, as though the crisis in Holm, the danger that lay a year ahead, and her worry for her father far away in Vorlite had all been compressed into urgent notes, forming a tableau of devastating grief. The melody that had earlier celebrated the beauty of love now, within this atmosphere, carried a sorrow that made the very soul weep.
This poignant, agonizing feeling was something Natasha had experienced before, yet her past feelings for Sylvia had never reached such intensity. But the thought that she and Lucian might actually meet such an ending made her feel as though the music—this grief that reached into the depths of the soul—was her own. She clenched her fists, vowing to shatter every obstacle in their path.
But what if the obstacle was her father himself? What if it was a reluctant choice made for Lucian's safety?
Shackles were not so easily broken.
Natasha's expression twisted slightly, as though she were locked in an inner struggle. When the sorrow reached its most acute point, she finally took a step forward. No matter how great the difficulty, there was always hope of a solution—only surrender meant hope could never be found. In moments like these, one could only press onward, striving to overcome every hardship, right up until death itself.
As if infected by the resolve in her heart, after the torrent of sorrow subsided, the flute once again played out a bright, luminous, and tender melody. Together with the plucking of the harp, a vision unfolded before Natasha's eyes—the grief had fallen away, leaving only the beauty of Heavenly Mountain. Then the violin returned to carry the main theme once more. This time there was no trace of gentle melancholy, only a beauty that soothed the soul.
The atmosphere was like two hands that, after enduring all the vicissitudes of the world, still clasped one another. Like the warmth in two pairs of eyes after overcoming every trial, without need for words. Like two butterflies breaking free from the thick cocoon that had bound them, fluttering their beautiful and dreamlike wings in a circling dance.
The music came to a stop, but the melody seemed to linger in the room—so beautiful it left one hushed and speechless.
"This is a style of music I've never heard before, and the most beautiful violin melody I've ever listened to. Thank you for the birthday gift. Thank you for the performance by the 'Lucian Symphony Orchestra.'" After a long silence, Natasha spoke, her voice slightly hoarse. "I loved the final section most of all—it seemed to elevate the entire piece."
After much deliberation, Lucian had chosen the Butterfly Lovers Violin Concerto by He Zhanhao and Chen Gang. Though it was a tragic story and seemed to carry an inauspicious meaning, the "Becoming Butterflies" movement itself embodied a beautiful blessing. With a few adjustments, it could perfectly express the emotions he wished to convey—and it was entirely fitting for the situation between him and Natasha.
Setting down the violin, Lucian stood and bowed. "To have earned your enjoyment of it is my great honor."
"I noticed you altered quite a few techniques while playing—using only two strings, for instance." Natasha smiled and walked over to Lucian, leading him back to the dining table and onto the bench. Seeing him open his mouth to respond, she quickly gestured for him to stay silent and continued herself. "It's rare to see you play the violin, and it has a completely different charm from when you play the piano. But now is not the time for that. The piece just now made me revisit and reflect on every moment of our relationship, and my emotions are impossible to contain. I simply want to hold you properly, to truly feel your presence."
Lucian smiled. "Today is your birthday. You're Her Majesty the Queen."
A hint of mischief crept into Natasha's smile. "Is that so? Good—because that's exactly what I want. Today is my birthday, and everything goes by my rules. You can only accept; you may not refuse. If I don't tell you to make a move, you mustn't do a thing. Understood?"
Lucian was about to answer when Natasha added, "Don't worry—I won't cross your limits. In truth, I've always wanted to turn you into a girl so I could properly 'take care of you' and 'tease you.' But the way things are now should work too—perhaps even better, since there's an added sense of conquest. Will you play along for me?"