She was marquise Evangeline de la Bosque (literally of the forest) named after her father and his father's father… Or in our story she is Red. When her ancestors have arrived five centuries ago, they wanted to settle near the lovely forest, that was still there even nowadays. She often spent time there reading books, studying or playing her violin or her small harp. She loved the forest like everyone in the family, or maybe even more. It was like a living thing -leaves were whispering stories about ancient times, fairies and elves, knights, kings and warriors and who knows what else. The birds were singing wordless songs, suiting the set of her soul, giving her comfort in the hard times. The grass and flowers were like a cool soft carpet under her feet. She often took off her velvet and leather shoes and walked there barefoot. Surprisingly, she never got bitten by anything… or got scratches and dirt… Never. She was special somehow. Everyone could see it in
her skin pale rosy color, dimpled cheeks kissed from the sun, a delicate gentle smile on her face, her wavy mahogany hair with red highlights was scattered from the wind.
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In the ball hall.
The gentleman was there again. She has seen him very rarely before, but he was eye catching – handsome, tall with broad shoulders and beautiful long dark gray hair to the waist. She named him Silver. They never got the chance to be introduced. Somehow, in the meetings and dancing halls he was always so far away from her…
She felt excited when they exchanged glances several times that evening. The first time he met her eyes, he raised a brow smiling at her and bowed slowly. The other glances were "stolen" and extremely short, so no one noticed. She secretly liked him in her own way and wanted him to invite her for a dance. Of course, this never happened. He was always busy with the most famous ladies, so she had to dance with whoever invites her.
Evangeline was bored to death by the ball after the enigmatic guy had disappeared. She had enough and decided to slip out of the ball room and go to the music room. She made a polite courtesy to the gentleman she was talking to, said some clichéd excuse and left with rather quick steps. She knew the way since she was often a guest there to the two sisters, playing music with them. The Harp was waiting at its usual place. She came closer to it, observed it for a moment, like daydreaming about something and gently picked it up. It was tuned, so she started playing. She put all the disappointment, sadness and loneliness from her heart into the music.