The Shadow of Great Britain

che un giorno sol durò（Only bloomed for one day and then withered）

Flora’s tears couldn’t be stopped anymore, gently sliding off her eyelashes.

Arthur reached out, very tenderly wiping away her tears.

”I beg you, Flora.” He said softly, his tone almost pleading, ”Just let me be selfish this one time.”

Flora stared at him blankly, her lips trembling slightly, listening to the poignant melody, her chest tightened.

Tears were about to fall again, but she held them back with effort.

Ah! non giunge uman pensiero（Ah! Human thoughts）

al contento ond’io son piena（Cannot express the joy I currently feel）

a quest’almaè sì serena（My soul is so serene）

ch’altri affanni non provò（No more worries can disturb）

Flora looked at Arthur’s face, unable to say anything, but slowly nodded, smiling through her tears.

Ah!mi abbraccia,e sempre insieme（Ah, embrace me, and let us always be together）

in contenti e in pace ognor（Live forever in happiness and peace）

Sposo amato,a te mi dona（My beloved spouse, I give myself to you）

fida in ciel la mano ognor（In front of heaven, this hand always faithfully belongs to you）

Clara Novello’s song had just finished, with her last sigh still hovering in the air.

In the next moment, Flora reached out, tightly holding the hand she had held countless times in her dreams.

She knew the song was about a ”waking dream,” but she wished she would never wake up.

It was a gentle moment that almost made one afraid to breathe.

Arthur and Flora stood side by side backstage, peering through the curtain at the light in front of the stage.

They saw applause like a tide from the audience, yet between them, it transformed into a silent quietness.

Flora remained steeped in the lyrics, the sound still resonating in her heart.

She didn’t speak, just edged closer to Arthur by half a step.

Arthur felt the warmth conveyed from her fingertips and heard his heartbeat merge with the rhythm of the audience’s applauding, the last time he heard it so clearly was at the moment of life and death beneath the Tower of London.

Two silhouettes, one bright and one dark, almost overlapped.

”This song is too beautiful, so beautiful it’s frightening,” Flora whispered, ”Miss Novello sang it so well.”

”Yes.” Arthur responded, seemingly absent-minded, saying something else, ”So wonderful.”

The Red Devil, leaning against the wall with arms folded, witnessed this scene and couldn’t help but sneer, ”Caught in a web of love, Arthur, you brought this upon yourself.”

Arthur did not respond, but instead held her hand more gently.

Through Flora’s eyes, Mr. Brahham, laden with debts, could be seen taking the stage, singing an old Italian lyrical song with his slightly aging voice.

The melody was full of age, the emotion forlorn, like a hero looking back on lost youth while on the path of settling debts.

Arthur listened, slightly entranced.

Completely unaware of Agares’ sigh beside him, ”Even he is repaying, do you think you can escape?”

Violin music rose, it was Henry Braggrof’s ”D Major Fantasy.”

The tone was cold and pure, tinged with the sorrow of a requiem.

Flora looked up, softly saying, ”This is Queen Adelaide’s favorite piece.”

Arthur nodded, his gaze becoming distant, ”For her, and for all the lost order.”

As the last note of the violin slowly faded, the stage lights brightened again, the composer John Strauss, recently gaining fame in Vienna, took the stage with his ”Tribute to Queen Victoria of Britain.”

The Royal Orchestra began playing the first segment of the main melody, the brass and strings interwoven, the waltz’s beat light and dazzling, even the air seemed suffused with the opulence of perfume and gold powder.

It was a music so grand it was almost unreal, like a gilded smile, both hollow and lively.

The music surged like golden waves.

Brass shimmered in the air, the bows on the violins lightly trembled under the lights, akin to birds awakened by dawn.

The melody was both magnificent and soft, like the slowly flowing silk gently draping over the dome of Buckingham Palace.

Peering through the curtain gap, the entire palace was illuminated.

The crystal of the dangling chandelier ignited by candlelight, refracting countless light feathers dancing over the audience.

Those lights crawled onto Flora’s face little by little, her eyelashes, lip line, the pallor of her neck, all were draped with a layer of dreamy soft light.

She breathed lightly, as if afraid of disturbing this dream.

”So beautiful.” She whispered.

”Yes.” Arthur’s voice too was faint, nearly drowned in the music, ”So beautiful... like a dream.”

Flora slightly turned her head, looking at him.

Her eyes shimmered with a faint golden-brown in the light, reflecting Arthur’s face.

The rhythm of the music grew increasingly brisk, the three-step dance echoing on the floor.

Through the curtain, they could see the nobility at the front of the stage are gently swaying, even the most senior, most critical court ladies couldn’t help but sway their fans lightly with the melody.

This dance belonged to glory, to the empire, and to all those still dreaming in this moment.

Flora’s fingertips unknowingly moved, her lips slightly parted, lightly leaning on Arthur’s shoulder, with a gentleness that one almost dared not breathe.

Their shadows were elongated by candlelight, intertwined on the wall.

The melody of the dance soared in spirals, as if a curtain woven of gold thread was slowly being lifted.

The brass was sonorous, the strings flying, the ceiling dome seemed to be spinning.

In this moment, it seemed as if the whole world was dancing for them.