Flowers, Swords and France

While Her Majesty Queen Carona of the French Empire was happily boating on the Seine River with Charlotte and her other female officials, thousands of miles away in St. Petersburg, there were also people boating on the Neva River to enjoy the scenery. The scenery along both sides of the Taiwan Strait.

However, unlike Her Majesty Queen Karona, who was in an extremely comfortable mood, the people on the ship felt much more complicated.

Although it is only late autumn now, and the weather near Fontainebleau can be said to be pleasant, it is completely different in Russia. The cold wind is already raging everywhere, whistling and tearing at everyone in a unique Russian way. Especially on the open river, the cold wind has no scruples, beating everyone like the elves released from hell.

"It's really cold." When a gust of cold wind tore through the defense of her thick coat and penetrated into her body, Mary, who was standing outside the cabin, couldn't help shivering, and then complained softly.

Then, she looked up at the bow of the boat, and her eyes fell on the woman sitting upright on the boat. "Hey, aren't you cold?"

This woman is also wearing a thick coat, but unlike her companion, there is a shelf in front of her with a canvas hanging on it, and she is holding a paintbrush in her hand.

She had been looking at the churches and woods on the river bank in ecstasy. The wind had already blown her hands red, but she was still unaware that the buildings on Petrograd Island in front of her were being painted in every detail. Revealed in her eyes, waiting for her to capture its charm.

She has completed less than half of her work, and many outlines are already looming on the canvas. There are river banks, pedestrians, cathedral towers, and high walls of palaces. These things have begun to appear on the canvas, as if Same as the replica.

But if these things are only painted on the painting as they are, it cannot be called painting. Real art must find something besides reproduction.

Find something that belongs to St. Petersburg and the charm of Russians.

The wind kept blowing against her, but she still didn't feel it at all. She just looked back and forth between the buildings on the river bank and the canvas.

"That's stupid." Mary couldn't help but mocked, then walked gently to her side, stretched out her hand to cover the gap in the collar of her clothes, blocking the howling cold wind. "You don't have to be so devoted, right? It would be troublesome if you really catch a cold in a ghost place like this..."

Fran only felt it when Mary's hand was placed on her body. She trembled subconsciously at first, and then from her intoxication on art, she figured out what was going on, and then heard Mary's complaint clearly. .

"Ah, thank you!" She smiled and thanked Mary, and then she felt that her whole body was getting cold. She quickly put down the brush and put her hand in her arms, slowly warming her frozen hand again.

This is the Neva River, which is the water source that Petersburg relies on and the most important lifeblood of the entire city. They are now floating on this river in a boat, admiring the most beautiful and essential parts of this Russian capital, and now they We have arrived next to Petrograd Island in the city center. While looking at the beautiful scenery, we stopped at this representative place and prepared to leave our paintings.

"I asked you, are you taking things a little too seriously?" Mary couldn't help teasing her again, "We didn't really come here just to draw a few paintings."

"But now that we're here, wouldn't it be a pity not to leave some memories? There may not be a chance to come here in the future... In addition to official duties, shouldn't we also do something private?" Fran chose He raised his eyebrows and joked with his friend, "Besides, if we don't act carefree, how can others rest assured?"

Mary found Fran's words both funny and a little sentimental.

"That's right. You are the one who really regards painting as a career. You are different from us." She shrugged slightly, "We learn this either to kill time or to improve ourselves. Only you are the real one." If you love this art, only you are truly talented..."

"Why are you still flattering me at this time?" Fran interrupted her seemingly displeased, but there was a little red cloud on her face. "I'm embarrassed to say it! In fact, your painting is already very good."

"I'm not flattering you, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. As for my paintings... they are just boring reproductions and technical exercises, without any soul or full-on enthusiasm. But although I am not good at painting, I can If I can understand other people's paintings a little, I can learn from yours It's not easy to see this kind of spirit and enthusiasm inside! We don't have that kind of talent..." Mary looked at her, then sighed and smiled bitterly, "But even if you have talent, there are a few people like you. I can spend those years truly carefree..."

"How is it possible to be carefree?" Fran's smile slowly disappeared, "In an environment like ours, how can there be no worries? It's just... I'm good at hiding my worries from others. "

"Then how well you hide it!" Although she already knew what kind of person the other party was, Mary was still surprised by this. "I have been with you for several years, but I haven't seen anything deep at all. The worries hidden in the heart.”

"Sometimes I admire myself for this!" Fran couldn't help laughing, but she didn't seem complacent about it. "I don't know why, but I have been able to isolate my inner thoughts from my appearance since I was very young. , you can be angry while smiling, and sometimes you even feel like you have become two people. Really, this is not fun at all. It would be nice if you experienced it. The two parts seem to be completely separated. No matter how happy things are, there are still some places in the heart that are so cold and painful that there is no There is no way to truly immerse yourself in joy... There is no way to be truly happy. Do you know what a terrible punishment this is?"

"It sounds scary enough." Mary thought about it and felt a little scared.

To change the mood, she decided to make a joke.

"So, when everyone is talking and laughing, you are always following our circumstances?" she asked with a smile.

"I can't say that it's appropriate... I just feel that all this is very alienating and has nothing to do with me." Fran shook her head, and the tips of her golden hair patted against her thick coat. "Of course, most topics actually don't interest me at all."

"It's terrible... Then have you never been happy with all your heart, even with tears in your eyes?" Mary was a little curious, "If you really haven't, that would be too pitiful..."

"That's not true..." Fran replied in a low voice, and then, her face suddenly turned slightly red. "When I was little, I was particularly afraid of the dark, so my brother would patiently read by my bedside with a fairy tale book, often until late into the night, just like my mother did... At that time, I really felt the fullness of my heart. Joy, really, great joy. And...well, some other things, those are already my most precious memories.”

Fran suddenly hesitated when she said this, and Mary also fell silent when she saw this. She couldn't bear to destroy other people's most cherished memories.

"So, I made it very clear!" Fran also slowly faded her smile, as if she was declaring something to herself, "I live in this world, and the only joy left is There is so much, and the happiness I can pursue is already hanging by a thread. If I have to be deprived of all this at this point, then what is the point of living? I would rather die to do it to the end, anyway, death will not be so painful. "

"What are you talking about about dying at this time? Everything is in the past, isn't it? The future will always get better and better." Mary smiled bitterly, then she looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, "It always feels like The air is suddenly a little gloomy, please finish painting quickly!"

"It's not like you can finish the painting just because you want it! It's not like inspiration comes just when you have it!" Fran also raised her head and looked at the sky, then moved her gaze down slightly, and then placed it on the brick wall of Vladimir Cathedral. On the other side, these brick walls are stiff and indifferent, standing under the gloomy sky, as if they will not waver for hundreds of years.

But is this all? It doesn't seem to be enough. Fran looked at the river blankly, as if stunned.

"It's not finished yet?" After a while, Mary couldn't help complaining, and then pulled Loveland's hat, "You are just being stupid, and I am accompanying you to be stupid."

Her hair also swept over Fran's body, and a warm feeling crawled into her heart along with the touch.

Fran looked at Mary blankly, and then seemed to suddenly understand something. She suddenly turned around and looked at the cathedral again.

Cold, but hard, even if the cold wind is biting, it does not flinch, but besides these qualities, there is a little warmth hidden in the heart. This is probably Russia.

"I found it!" With such a vague mutter, she picked up the paintbrush from the side, then bowed slightly and devoted herself to the painting. At this time, Mary didn't say anything else, just stood there with a smile on her face. Quietly watching my friend paint beside me.

With Fran's strokes, the entire painting gradually revealed its final image.

The buildings, the passers-by, and the quietly flowing Neva River are clearly shown in the painting. The lines of the buildings are also very rough. They are all made of cool blue and gray colors, creating a depressive and silent world. A feeling of pressure hit my face. In the center of the painting, the church wall is dyed bright red, and stands out against the gray world, as if it is a fire burning in the cold world.

After finishing the painting, Fran looked at her painting carefully before putting down the brush.

"How's it going?" She looked at Mary as if she was offering a treasure.

"It's very good, very good." After looking at it for a long time, Mary finally said in a tone that came from her heart rather than deliberately flattering, "it's worth letting us stand here for so long."

Then, the wind became stronger and she suddenly shivered.

"But now we have no reason to stay on this damn river, right? We can leave now!" She couldn't help complaining again.

Then, she glanced at the painting again and carefully put away the canvas and drawing board. "How can this river be so beautiful?"

"I think it's quite beautiful. The scenery on both sides is also very good. We can't be too picky. The weather in Russia is just like this. Who can change anything? At least I think the Russians are already enthusiastic enough to entertain us! Fran put her hands into her arms for warmth again, and then replied with a smile, "Besides, it's at least cleaner than the Thames River, isn't it?"

"I think Britain is much cuter..." Mary curled her lips rather disapprovingly, "No matter what, the Russians are going to be in bad luck anyway, so we don't need to pay too much attention to them."

"Hey! Don't say such things here!" Fran was a little anxious and quickly stopped the other party. "We have to completely pretend we don't know about this."

Read the original text in Liu#9@书/吧!

"Okay, I'll do as you say." While speaking, Mary had already put away all the canvases.

Then, the two people returned to the cabin, and at their request, the ship immediately moored in the direction they floated from, preparing to return to the land where they were just now.

Fran was very satisfied with her painting. She kept looking at it, shaking her head with a proud smile on her face.

"You don't have to be so happy, right?" Mary couldn't help teasing her.

"Of course I'm happy! I haven't painted such a satisfactory work for a long time." Fran shook her head, "As long as there are works like this, even if there are some miscellaneous things that interfere with it, we still have a pleasant trip! At least it is not in vain. A trip to Russia.”

Then, she lowered her gaze slightly, "And... when we go back, he must be very happy to see that we completed the task so smoothly."

At this time, her eyes were full of longing for the future, and she was obviously daydreaming about the future between herself and her brother.

In such an aura, Mary did not feel jealous. Instead, she suddenly felt a little sad.

She recalled the way her friend had just said, "There are only so many things that can make me happy." When she compared it to now, she suddenly felt that it was all a little too disturbing.

"I know it doesn't make sense to say this, but I want to say it again now. It's still not too late for you, my friend, it's not too late!" She was a little anxious, "Give up this longing, there is still so much happiness waiting for you. Looking after you!"

However, her impatience did not affect the other party, and Fran frowned instead. "I originally thought you would understand me..."

"Yes, I understand you. I don't care about blood relations at all, but I have another reason!" Mary couldn't help it and screamed in a low voice, "Can't you see? Mr. is a bastard , of course he is a very good bastard, but even so he is still a bastard. He pursues fame and wealth, and likes wealth and power. The scary thing is that he has already obtained all this, and He works tirelessly to gain more wealth and power! Yes, he doesn't have much love, at least not as much as you want! Moreover, it is obvious that he indulges in pleasure and likes the feeling of being surrounded by beautiful women. At this moment, he is still having sex with someone - don't deny me, I think that's it. Is he worthy of your infatuation? No, I don't think he is worthy of it!"

Then, her mood stabilized a little, "Of course, I...I am also a bastard, but I like bastards. This is only natural. Shouldn't bastards like bastards? I also like pleasure, power and wealth, I like to be looked up to, but you don't! You shouldn't depend on people like us, you should be loved more wholeheartedly! Okay, I know you won't listen to me, but I still want to. One last persuasion.”

"Since you know that persuasion is useless, why do you bother to do so?" Fran was silent for a long time, and finally sighed slightly. "Although I always treat people submissively on the surface, my thoughts in my heart never change. Once I decide what I should do, I will do it to the end... Even if you think this is sad, but I just want to Such happiness, in the final analysis... none of you can live for me, and you can't help me choose, right? You just keep telling me what to do, but if you want to get me, If you have to be a jerk to get something, I’d rather be a jerk!”

When she said this, Mary was not surprised, she just sighed.

"What a poor kid."

"You are only one year older than me." Fran disagreed.

"No, you are just a child in some ways, as stubborn as a child." Mary felt her eyes moisten instantly, "I really regret not being nicer to you in the past. I thought we were the same people, at least with the same intensity, but Now it seems that you need warmth more than me... If you get this earlier, why would you value a little warmth for the whole world!"

As if to prove her words, she suddenly hugged Fran, and before her friend could react, she kissed her directly, and their lips suddenly met.

Fran only reacted when their lips met, her eyes widened, and then she subconsciously pushed Mary away.

"What are you doing!" She complained softly about the other party's sudden attack.

"I'll give you some warmth." Mary replied with a smile. "Is it warm?"

Fran was stunned, and then she felt a little residual warmth between her lips.

What a loyal man. she thought.

Her mind has long been solidified, and except for her own little fortress, she has been isolated from the entire world. This small fortress had only housed a few people before, and Mary was among them.

"As long as I have something, I will give it to you too." She murmured to herself, and then whispered.

At this time, the boat had docked, and the two people leisurely stepped off the boat.

On the shore, in addition to the original people, there was a young officer wearing the uniform of the Royal Guard.

"Ms. de Treville, the Crown Prince of our country invites you and your female companion to come to the Imperial Village." The young officer said to the two ladies with full elegance. (~^~)