Violet Orchestra

The night in Yasuo City was very restless.

The city was brightly lit, and two teams of heavily armed guards rode across the street on horseback. The armed hoofs of the horses stepped on the stone road after the rain, and the skirts of the women were wetted by splashes of muddy water.

They wiped their wet hands on their aprons and gathered in front of their homes to whisper.

"What's wrong with this?"

"I heard that the gems on the sword of the city lord were stolen."

"Hey, I heard that Miss Brienne was molested at the banquet tonight?"

"Oh my god, Miss Brienne? The Miss Brienne known as Yasuo's treasure?"

"The city lord protects Miss Brienne at home like a baby, why?"

They talked to each other, and the discussion was heated, and suddenly a newcomer joined the topic, bringing even more unexpected news.

"No, no, I heard that Miss Brienne was taken away!"

……

"Is this the first time we have escaped from the city this year?" Someone asked in a rough voice in the darkness under the city wall.

"The fifth time," another black shadow complained, "it's all your fault, why did you move the Santo's sword?"

"Obviously you went to hook up with someone else's daughter!"

"I'm about to be caught up, are you still wasting time?" A female voice interrupted their meaningless quarrel.

The men had no choice but to shut their mouths resentfully, followed her footsteps, and took a shortcut through the secret passage dug in advance.

Brienne's Necklace One

This is a grand banquet.

The annual Harvest Festival in Yasuo City ushered in the beginning of the residual heat in late summer. Women with baskets can be seen everywhere on the street. They sent flowers and freshly made snacks to everyone passing by, and used the harvested Treat all neighbors and guests from afar with joy and hospitality.

There is a Harvest Festival concert in the city, which attracts many bards to exchange music at this time of year.They gathered in the central square, whether by the fountain or in the open space, there were strangers with different hair colors, skin colors, and looks.All kinds of music flowed out from their instruments. In the accompaniment, there were men's high-pitched and vast singing voices, and some women's soft and moving singing. When they gathered together, although they sang different songs, they strangely formed a harmonious song. movement.

Among them, the most striking is an orchestra composed of homeless people.

There were three men and one woman, all of whom played one or more instruments, and the leader had an enviable voice.It was a young man with long red hair. He had a delicate face, beautiful blue eyes and fair skin. He was wearing a robe of ordinary color and style, but he had a voice that was more attractive than most of the women present. and superb playing skills.

He sat by the fountain, half-closed his eyes, and played and sang softly. His voice was strangely transmitted far away, and he sang a very popular "Nightingale" with the accompaniment of his companions.

There were a lot of people in the square, but after half the morning, the crowd gradually gathered towards the homeless band, forming a less obvious encirclement.

The red-haired poet is still singing, but it has changed from a song with lyrics to a soft humming with unclear meaning, like the spring breeze blowing across the earth in the afternoon, and like the light wind blowing through the treetops at night.His companion played bagpipes to accompany him, adding a lot of unique style to this unknown piece.

Gradually, the hustle and bustle in the square subsided a lot, but he didn't even notice that the sound of the bagpipes stopped, and he was still humming to himself.

Someone pushed through the crowd and walked in front of him, stepping lightly on purpose, as if not wanting to interrupt his singing.

But he just ended this section, opened his eyes and smiled, his voice was gentle and pleasant, like a stream flowing in the forest: "Good day, sir."

It seemed that he didn't expect him to open his eyes suddenly. The guard standing in front of him was stunned for a moment, then remembered that he had come with a mission, he quickly greeted him, and said, "Sir, the city lord would like to invite you and your orchestra Come home as a guest."

"A guest?" asked the woman holding a small drum behind the poet.

She was tall, with healthy wheat-colored skin, long black hair that fell to her waist in a thick braid, and piercing amber eyes like some bird of prey waiting to be killed.The young guard glanced at her and was overwhelmed by the aura, and turned his eyes away, and explained: "My lord, I heard that your performance is very exciting, and I want to invite you to Miss Brienne's birthday party, and perform a song for her 16th birthday." song."

Before he finished speaking, the crowd gathered around had already started to commotion.

The female drummer turned her head and exchanged glances with the other companions, said something in the poet's ear, and then looked up at the guard.

Her eyes were indeed different, but after this glance, she quickly put away the abnormality and became softer.The poet didn't say anything, put down his zither, stood up, and smiled at the guard.

"Thank you, Lord Santo for your invitation," he said, "We will be there on time."

Caught off guard by his smiling face, the guard froze again, and reminded in a trance, "I want to write down your names and go back and report to the city lord..."

"Oh, this." The poet smiled again, looked around, and said his name slowly, "We are the Violet Orchestra."

Before he finished speaking, the man next to him with the scar on his face turned his face away with a "tsk".

"The city lord wants to know all of you..."

"We are all homeless, without a name." He said softly, "Even if there were, the city lord could not find us with these names. Don't you know my name? Did you find anything?"

The guard shook his head subconsciously, and realized that he was not doing well, so he said seriously: "This is the order of the city lord."

"Then take my words to Lord City Master, thank you."

Dazed by his laughter, the guard nodded and walked away in a trance with one after another whispering.

The poet smiled apologetically at the onlookers, sat down again holding the piano, and began to play the next piece.

"You shouldn't agree." Amidst the noise, the man sitting behind him said.

"What's the matter?" The red-haired poet stopped playing the piano and looked back at him. "I heard that the daughter of the city lord is the most famous beauty in this area. It's good to have a look."

"Forget it, don't climb into Miss Yasuo's bed," the bagpiper with the scar on his face scolded him angrily.

The poet rolled his eyes and called him in a low voice: "Hodge."

"what?"

"I heard that there is a rare ruby ​​on the sword of the city lord."

The short and thin man's eyes lit up.

Miss Brienne's birthday party arrived as scheduled two days later. Violet and his party were taken from the hotel to the Santo's house, bringing their own musical instruments and changing into the clothes sent by the Santo.

The most eye-catching one is undoubtedly the red-haired poet walking in front. He is wearing an exquisite embroidered robe, and his long red hair is tied behind his neck with a ribbon, revealing his handsome face.His smile is elegant and charming, smiling all the way to everyone who looks at him, like a beautiful young nobleman.

The female drummer behind him carried the drum on her back, her black hair was coiled up high to reveal her slender neck, and the simple yet decent dress and long skirt just set off her tall and healthy figure—similar to the gentlemen present Her height did not affect her beauty, on the contrary, it made her more beautiful.

"Petra, everyone is looking at you." Walking beside her, the poet laughed softly.

Under the cover of her sleeves, the female drummer pinched him mercilessly, with no expression on her face: "Take care of yourself and don't cause trouble everywhere."

The poet chuckled twice, and winked at the two young ladies who were peeking at him.

The girls raised their feather fans to cover their flushed little faces, and continued to look at him while whispering, like a flock of chirping birds.

"That handsome Mr. Poet?"

"It should be, when did you see such a musician in the city?"

"Look at his hands, they are so pretty."

The girls looked up and down the poet's profile with different thoughts, and finally giggled unanimously.

They stared at the poet almost unscrupulously, but they didn't know that the poet was also using them as a topic of chatting, laughing and laughing with his companions.

"Like a brood of pullets." Hodge's metaphor is very characteristic.

Petra frowned.

The middle-aged man who hadn't spoken much spoke up for her: "You're not polite, Hodge."

Hodge curled his lips disapprovingly, and said nothing more.

Seeing that he had calmed down, the man turned to the poet who was ogle at the ladies and drew his attention back: "Violet."

"Huh?" The poet responded casually.

"You should also restrain yourself, don't be like a peacock that is just ostentatious. Don't forget how we escaped from Selestan last time."

He had said it unkindly, but Violet would not have taken it seriously otherwise.

Sure enough, the poet recalled the last time he got out of the hole in the wall with a disheveled face, the perfect smile on his face froze, and he nodded silently.

He felt goosebumps all over his body when he thought of that incident, and his eyes wandered around uncomfortably, as if he wanted to correct his mistakes.Before Birkins could put his heart back in his stomach, the next second, Violet spotted a girl who had just walked in from the door, and his eyes suddenly lit up.

It was a very pretty young lady, unlike any other girl in the room, with beautiful green eyes and long light-colored hair, wearing a green satin dress of the same color as her eyes, and her skin was as white and tender as buttercream on a cake. , the temperament is very soft.She walked in behind the castellan, seemed to notice Violet's gaze, and turned her head to smile at them.

Violet was not embarrassed at all, and waited for her to take the initiative to walk over with her skirt, and then took off her gloves and held her hand in a gentlemanly manner: "Miss Brienne is as amazing as the legends say, it's really nice to see you Our pleasure."

Brienne Yasuo glanced at the group of them, with a gentle and generous smile in her eyes: "I am also very honored, my father actually invited me the most famous orchestra in the city."

"Thank you for coming for me," she said with a smile.

Whether he came for her or not, everyone knew it well.Petra and Birkins looked at each other, Hodge didn't take it seriously, only Violet followed her words and continued: "It's our honor to play at your birthday party."

The smile on Brienne's face remained undiminished, she withdrew her hand, and looked at Violet intently: "Then can I start looking forward to everyone's performance?"

"Of course, I hope you will like our performance." The poet also smiled back at her.

They got the chance to play at the opening of the banquet, and they got on stage like that, and took their seats one by one.Violet sat on the chair on the right, holding the piano and smiling at Brienne below.

Red hair is rare in Yasuo and surrounding cities. His red hair and blue eyes are very special, and he is already very eye-catching in the crowd, let alone on this small stage.Violet lowered her head and adjusted the strings, then nodded slightly to the audience, her white and slender fingers resting on the strings.

What he used was a modified mandolin (*note), which was small in size, smaller and more delicate than the common lute, and even the ladies present could hold it with one hand.The poet easily sat on the chair with the piano in his arms, plucked the strings a few times with his fingers, and the melodious sound flowed out from the strings.

"Bringing our improved "Hirsti's Nightingale" to Miss Brienne and everyone." Violet said softly.

*Note:

A mandolin is a small stringed instrument, similar in shape to a lute, and is generally played with plastic picks to pluck the strings to produce sound.The pear-shaped body has tortoise-like patterns, and the curved back is supported by several sound braces.Generally it has four or four sets of strings, and the tuning is consistent with the violin.It is a variation of the lute, originally developed in the 18th century from the harp mandora of the 16th century. (from Baidu Encyclopedia)

It was born relatively late, and it is still being used today. It is a beautiful instrument in my opinion.The use of this name in the text is actually a bit advanced, so please note it here to avoid misunderstanding.

And the song "Hirsti's Nightingale" written in the article comes from the "Serenade for Mr. Victor" I wrote before. I have used it here. If you are interested, you can go and see another taste the poet (x