Summer soon came again. On this day, Raphael brought a violin.
Edith had never seen something so magical before. She widened her eyes as she watched him place a long stick on those thin threads called "strings," and then lovely music ran out of the violin.
With Raphael''s music playing, Edith followed Charlene, singing a song about a little angel who brings miracles.
Raphael loved music. He couldn''t really explain why he liked it so much, maybe because it was the only thing he was good at.
Sadly, as an heir, he couldn''t spend too much time playing the violin. Music was just a topic for salons and balls. To master a conversation about it, there was no need to invest much in studying music itself.
"Sometimes, I wish I could be a giving angel too," Charlene sighed seriously after singing the song. "Always taking from others is not right. Brother, I often feel that what we take from others, will eventually be taken back from us one day."
Edith and Raphael didn''t quite understand what Charlene suddenly said.
Charlene''s little wish soon came true.
Once, Edith saw a group of boys in the village gathering around a little bird.
The bird looked quite queer, with a snowy white body and a thick circle of feathers around its head, like a wig worn by noble lords. It hopped on the ground, seemingly unable to fly.①
One of the boys pointed at the bird and said, "Pigeon. Aristocrat bird."
Another boy raised the whip in his hand and lashed it on the bird''s slender legs, making it hop awkwardly, clearly in pain. He smugly shouted, "Oh dear, we''ve crippled the aristocrat''s legs."
The blokes burst into laughter.
At that moment, Edith remembered what Charlene had said to her before. She immediately rushed forward and yelled at them, "Let it go!"
The biggest boy sneered at her, "Why should we listen to you?"
"Why are you bullying the little pigeon? It has done nothing wrong!" Edith exclaimed, hands on her hips, feeling angry.
"What does a little wench like you know?" the boys replied impatiently, shooing her away.
The boy with the whip pushed Edith hard, causing her to fall to the ground.
Then, a thin voice came from behind, "What if I tell you to let it go?"
"Aya, it''s the Countess!"
"Run! Run!"
The boys recognised Charlene de Saint-Clemont and panicked, hastily trying to run away.
"Halt! Did I