The Day of the Salon
And then, the day of the salon arrived.
Gentle morning sunlight, heralding the beginning of autumn, streamed in through the large windows on the second floor.
The participants had taken their seats.
Shelarnia sat in a special seat, composed and still.
The noble ladies exchanged quiet words in low voices.
The musicians and artists sat with slightly tense expressions.
Maryne stood at the center of it all.
A white dress with a faint bluish-purple gradient.
Her red hair was carefully styled.
All eyes gathered on Maryne.
“Thank you very much for coming to the very first salon today!”
Maryne greeted them.
“A salon is a place where you enjoy sweets while freely discussing art and culture in general. There are no rigid rules. Please relax and enjoy yourselves.”
Then Maryne spoke calmly.
“Now then, to celebrate the opening of the salon… I will first perform a piece.”
A performance?
…… Everyone present cast doubtful looks.
Rhinos came over and handed Maryne a violin.
Shelarnia’s eyes narrowed slightly.
(An eight-year-old child’s performance… If it’s anything half-baked, it won’t satisfy the ears of the noble ladies and musicians here.)
Shelarnia thought that.
No one would enjoy watching a child’s playacting at eight years old.
Was Maryne that confident…?
(I wonder what kind of performance she will give. This should be interesting.)
Shelarnia smiled.
“……”
Maryne took up the violin.
She placed the bow on the strings.
One deep breath.
And then.
The first note flowed from Maryne’s violin.
A quiet melody.
Gentle, yet profound.
Like ripples spreading endlessly across the surface of water when a stone is dropped.
A sound that slowly seeped into the listeners’ inner selves.
The piece Maryne had chosen was “Air on the G String.”
Strictly speaking, it was Bach’s original aria.
“……”
The participants fell silent.
The chatter stopped.
Everyone was drawn into the sound.
One of the noble ladies unconsciously forgot to breathe.
One of the musicians closed their eyes, listening intently to the melody.
Shelarnia…
Did not move an inch, staring at Maryne.
Astonishment.
Admiration.
And a certain, deep emotion, something like true awe.
(This is…)
(How…)
(Beautiful. It is like music from the heavens.)
Maryne’s bow slid across the strings.
The melody layered, swelled, and then quietly dissolved again.
Those present offered praise not with their voices, but in their hearts.
The performance was beautiful.
A beauty that did not exist in this world.
A melody no one had ever heard before.
And yet, from the very moment they heard it, everyone felt their hearts tremble.
What do you think about this chapter?
