Chapter 306: The Bad News


    Trantor: Kris_Liu Editor: Vermillion


    The princess was wearing a simple ck dress on that day. Her purple hair was tied back and covered with a piece of ck crape, showing the curve of her long and elegant neck. She looked sad and solemn.


    Walking past Franz, the princess continued toward the stairs in a cold way, as if there was nothing in her eyes.


    Franz felt a bit worried. He looked around.


    All the people in the hall, including the receptionist, Polly, looked as confused as him. They had no idea what happened that could make the future grand duchess this sorrowful.


    Was it... the grand duke?


    No... If it was the grand duke, the princess should first send the obituary notice to all of the nobles and then send the coffin to the Golden Cathedral as the pallbearer. In the Golden Cathedral, she would be crowned by the grand cardinal, Sard, and be the new grand duchess.


    Was it because the heretics from the north had pushed through the northern fortress and they were right now approaching Aalto?


    No... Instead of immersing herself in the sorrow using music, as an honored knight, the princess should be the noble leading the Violet Knights to fight against the enemies.


    Was it because of a famous musician who just passed away?


    No... Except for Mr. Christopher, who once taught Natasha music, no one in this association was qualified for the great respect and deep grief from the princess.


    ...Wait!


    The thought came to everyone present. People in the hall wondered whether the thought was true, but no one dared to ask for verification.


    Although the great young musician passed out after the concert due to thebination of excitement and his chronic disease, the princess’ imperial guard had announced that Evans was going to be fine, despite the fact that it would take time for him to recover. After two days since then, except for Mr. Evans’ close friends and family who managed to visit him once or twice, no one outside of the manor knew Mr. Lucien Evans’ health condition.


    It happened many times that acute diseases managed to take away lives within just a few minutes before a priest’s arrival!


    If it was Lucien Evans, the young genius, who just impressed everyone with the Symphony in D minor, Ode to Joy, and who once caught people’s heart with his masterpieces, he for sure deserved the future grand duchess personallying over to the association and breaking the grievous news.


    What was more important was that the young genius musician’s close rtionship with the princess had been recognized, and many believed that Lucien Evans would be the future Duke of Tn—in the Duchy of Violet, if the heir was a female, her husband would be ennobled with the title of Duke of Tn, which brought the husband no real power, and the title was non-inheritable.


    If it was Lucien Evans, the way the princess was dressing now and her irrestrainable grief all made sense!


    "God... Mr. Evans is not even twenty-one..." Polly covered her mouth in a shocked manner, and there were tears in her eyes. She tried to persuade herself that it was not Mr. Evans. She prayed that it was not Mr. Evans...


    After the concert, Polly had regarded Mr. Evans as the angel in charge of music and joy, and the musician who she admired and respected the most.


    The newspaper slowly fell onto the floor from Franz’s hands. When he visited Mr. Evans on the first day morning after the concert, thetter looked okay. Aftering back from the manor, Franz immediately immersed himself in the passion and inspiration of creating his own music and thus he did not hear anything from the outside world for lots of hours.


    Today, Franz left his ce and came to the association. He was not here especially for collecting the newspapers praising the concert, but to find some materials in the library and then see if he could visit Mr. Evans again.


    "No... No..." murmured Franz, whose thin face looked very shocked. Not being able to control his feet, Franz followed Natasha and Camil upstairs. He wanted to hear the final answer. He wanted to know Mr. Evans was fine.


    ...


    In Mr. Christopher’s office.


    Othello helplessly said to this music master, "Mr. President, are you still working on the review? This month’s Music Criticism and Symphony News have been postponing their issue for two days."


    Although Othello was the current president of the association, he was still used to calling Mr. Christopher the president.


    Victor, standing on the side, quickly took a nce at the pile of paper in front of Christopher on his desk.


    Because Lucien’s return concert was held on June 1st, both Music Criticism and Symphony News had decided to postpone their issuing until June 2nd. And it turned out that the concert was of such a great sess that was out of anyone’s expectation. When the two journals were about to hurriedly select the contribution from their regr music critics, they found that they were overwhelmed by the countless articles praising the excellency of Lucien Evans’ concert. The review articles from those passionate and motivated musicians and critics were of very high quality, so both Music Criticism and Symphony News had decided to publish a supplement for this month. However, although the space for the first leading article was reserved for Mr. Christopher, this music master had been dying for two days, and thus the journals had no choice but to wait.


    Christopher seemed to be quite rxed, as he had his own pace, "Ode to Joy has seized my heart, and its theme, structure, and melody have surpassed the level of any other symphony pieces I’ve ever heard before. I want to use the best and the most sincere words that I have to develop this article, and I think the article is not there yet."


    "Maybe too much thinking and revision aren’t going to help..." Victor was being euphemistic.


    "It makes sense." Christopher nodded, "Take a look at it for me, Victor."


    As Christopher was saying, he pushed several sheets of paper to Victor.


    Victor picked up and sheets and read in the gentle voice, "...This is a masterpiece beyond people’s imagination, the most precious treasure in the pce of symphony for anyone who is fond of music. I have this feeling that, for a long time, there is not going to be another symphony piece that can be on a par with Ode to Joy...


    "But we do not necessarily have to feel sorry about it, instead, we shall feel proud and excited, for we just witnessed this glorious moment and had this firsthand experience of how thrilling a great masterpiece could be. This is a masterpiece that is going to be remembered by history. So let’s leave our seats and show our great respect to Lucien Evans and his magnificent creation...


    "Lucien Evans’ name is well qualified to be put next to the glowing names of the music masters in the pce of music. The spirit of perseverance when facing difficulties and the will of fighting against darkness contained in Lucien Evans’ music will shine forever, and thus his music pieces will shine endlessly as well!"


    Following it was thement on the symphony structure and theme. Hearing Victor’s reading, Othello had a smile on his face, "Mr. President, obviously, you are a very generous man when giving praises, and yourments are, I have to say, really high. But I shall say that thements are very urate, as no symphony has ever fascinated me like Ode to Joy."


    Before Christopher responded, someone knocked at the door, slowly but firmly.


    "Yes?" asked Othello.


    "Her Highness," said the guard on the other side of the door.


    Othello hurriedly stood up and walked to the door together with Christopher and Victor.


    When the door opened, they saw Natasha wearing the long ck dress, and the sorrowful look on her face. They hurriedly asked, feeling some panic, "What happened, Your Highness?"


    Natasha slightly lowered her head and crossed in front of her chest. Using the t tone, she said, "Lucien Evans was... recalled by God in the early morning."


    Her t tone could not hide her deep grief.


    "... What?!" They could not believe their ears.


    Victor’s head suddenly buzzed and he almost fell to the ground. Othello grabbed his arm.


    Hearing what the princess just said, Franz looked very confused. Like losing his soul, Franz started wandering in the corridor. Then, he was stopped by a guard.


    "I’m very sorry to tell you this, but... Lucien Evans was killed by an evil sorcerer in the early morning, because of a conspiracy that was not even really rted to him," said Natasha using the Church’s exnation.


    People knew how close Natasha was to the young musician, and thus they all believed that what the princess just said must have been carefully verified as true. Sorrow started to spread in the corridor, and some started to sob, cursing the evil sorcerer.


    Victor’s face turned pale. He opened his mouth but his throat could only make some hoarse noise. Mr. Christopher’s wrinkled face looked heartbroken.


    Othello gently patted on Victor’s shoulder, "Don’t be overly sad, please, Victor. Evans’ talent is iparable, and he just created the greatest music piece in this world. God has decided to call him back to Mountain Paradise, so he could y for God. Evans is loved by God, and up there, he is going to have the eternal joy. We shall pray for him. We shall not let the pain and sorrow torture us. Evans is going to watch over us from Mountain Paradise."


    "I hope so, but I’d like to be left alone right now." Victor murmured, voice trembling. Then he turned to the princess, "Your Highness, can I... can I at least take onest look at him?"


    Natasha slightly shook her head, "The evil sorcerer destroyed his body... Only some... some... is left."


    The tough female knight could not say the word. It was too cruel.


    "What... What can we do now, Your Highness?" Othello helped Christopher sit down and then asked.


    Natasha said in the same t tone, "On behalf of the association, release the obituary notice. On the newspapers, journals, in front of the association building, across the many city zones... Tell this to all the people who like his music. In three days, there will be a funeral... for us to say goodbye to him."