I had begun to work on Forte's life seriously ever since her 6th birthday. This was around the time I realized no maids, no stable boys, and no butlers would come to help Forte. Not in any way that mattered, at least. They would offer words of encouragement, dry the tears, and bandage the wounds on her body. But none would be able to stop Forte's mother or father in their wrathful rampage.
I tried to understand why they were so awful to their daughter, I gathered it was due to societal pressures and an already unhappy marriage. All things that a child never should face the brunt off, so instead of turning to one another or turning against society – her parents turned on their own daughter.
I was just glad I had my own memories of my own parents to get me through, the memory of their gentle voice and their guiding hands carrying me through life.
Due to this, I developed the ability to act very well. I learned to cry at the drop of a pin and communicate through silent gestures what Forte might've felt in certain situations. Many times has it convinced her parents if they had beaten Forte to an inch of her life to stop.
"Enough," her father had said. "Anymore and her bruises will render her incapable of walking. The garden party will begin in a few hours – maids! Come in here and take her away, make sure she is at least presentable."
Luckily, I learned quickly how to sew tiny cushions to slip into my clothes; making sure they covered the parts her parents loved to hit.
The maids knew, of course. Though they kept this secret.
For all those spots her parents aimed for, I knew they'd never hit her face. She had a pretty face with bright amber eyes, and long honey-blonde hair to compliment it. As a child, she looked like those renaissance paintings of cupid you'd find in museums. Dressed in soft colors to show how demure she was, but also exonerate her bright hair and even brighter eyes. If anything, I liked it most when if I stared at her eyes long enough through a mirror – you'd be able to see traces of my brown eyes in her golden ones.
For all the flaws her parents perceived Forte to have, even they couldn't deny that their daughter was beautiful. This was perhaps the only thing they saw of value in Forte, which is probably why they wanted to introduce her so fast to society – why they, more precisely, held that garden party.
During that same garden party, after a couple of hours of showing me off and my well-learned manners (which I learned from my real parents), intelligence (which I learned from my education back on Earth), and whatever high society garbage education they gave me – I was finally left alone. All the parents were by then already too busy discussing other things amongst each other.
Which left the children to play together.
There were many of us, but out of all of them I could identify one important person. One of the romance candidates.
Lukas March of the March Household, the son of a wealthy duke and who will one day be famed for his ability to compose beautiful songs. I knew that in the future events of the novel, he would be recognised as the royal maestro. Though you would not know it from Lukas' soft and shy disposition at that moment. His white hair and sweet features only exemplified this, not to mention he wore the color silver often. The only thing standing out in stark contrast to his monotone palette were his bright amethyst eyes, which I noticed would peer at my every now and again.
He was such a curious and sweet boy, what a shame he turned out mad in the original novel.
In the novel, Lukas followed the insane and girl-obsessed trope. He had locked himself away from the world and continued to create musical composition after composition. He always had his fingers in bandages, due to excessive bleeding after abusing his piano keys day in and day out.
But one day, the heroine of that novel heard his songs after wandering around the forest of his private estate. The tunes were coming from a lone tower and she, curious as she was, decided to stand in front of it until it ended – actually, she stood in front of that tower for hours. It was nearly sunset when the music ended, but when it did she shouted at the top of her voice:
"Your music is so beautiful!"
Lukas, due to pure surprise, pulled his curtains open and was met with the blazing golden sun – and the woman from below, calling to him. Her blue eyes sparkling in delight and her hair, bright red, catching the light – making it look like it was made of pure fire.
He fell in love with her ever since, but was too afraid to ever speak to her. To show his appreciation, however, he would play for her for two hours before sunset – never knowing for sure if she was outside his door. But she always showed up, always yelling out praise for his music, and he fell even deeper in love with her. Deeper and deeper into that hole of love, until he could no longer make out the sun – for she had eclipsed it completely.
And when the heroine would choose another man, since the ending of the novel was split up into five endings (for each romance candidate), he would become the villain in that story. Vowing that if he couldn't have her, then nobody could. In four of those books, he would always die at the hands of the other romance candidate. What was even sadder was that his death wasn't even major, it happened in the first ten chapters and that was it.
Apparently it was revealed in his own book that Lukas, similarly, was neglected by his parents. I'd always wondered if, under the right circumstances, Forte and he could have met and been friends. Working through their pain together of being so lonely, but where Lukas would withdraw himself from the world to cope with his pain – Forte would inflict pain upon others. Perhaps that was why both avoided each other like the plague.
Now, with that poor boy having stood in front of me… I decided I would start with him first.
"Hello," I said, approaching his table – he was sitting alone, drawing music notes on a small piece of paper.
He blinked up at me and balled the paper into his fists, "H-hello."
"My name is Forte, what's your name?" I asked, trying to smile kindly.
"I'm Lukas, um, your gardens are very nice."
"My parent's gardens," I said, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone. "Would you like to play? Our parents are going to be busy all evening."
"Play?" he asked, confused, looking over to the right where everyone else was. "Wouldn't you rather go talk to everyone else? They seem to be having more fun, a-and it's the proper thing to do."
The other kids were, indeed, sitting together and practicing their manners on one another. They were kids, yet why on Earth were they acting like they'd entered high society already? Oh right, fantasy world. Toxic environment.
"Then why aren't you playing with them?" I asked Lukas.
He moved his eyes towards them, flinching when one of the boys began whispering things – his eyes pointed directly toward Lukas.
"Assholes." I mumbled.
Lukas' head snapped toward me, "What?"
"Nothing!" I smiled and grabbed his hand, "Then you and me can talk. I know a nice place deeper in the gardens, come follow me!"
"W-wait!"