Freesia: A Narrative Fiction

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Recommended: Role of nature according to romantic writers

Music floated through the brisk cold air from the open window of the music school looking over the peaceful lake where families and young lovers basked in the morning gentle rays. The spring flowers, which were gently swaying in the breeze as their petals reached toward the sky while enamoring the hearts of poets and painters alike and the flowers blushed at the attention they received from the young children who’s greedy hands yearned to clutch the colorful beings in their dirty little hands, only to have their mothers and nurse maids smack their hands away. The trees bend, rustled, and sung to all around them as they attempted to tempt people to rest beneath them, though their longing would have to wait till the summer sun began her reign over the people till then the people will beg for admittance under the cool shade of the branches, however they will be forced to endear their solitude.
A sudden unexpected clink followed by a swift clung, caused the peace to flee for cover. Soon all that could be heard was the scoldings and nagging of an overbearing piano teacher as he scolded the students mistake.
People sighed at the familiar ranting of the master and gave a humble prayer that the young child would come out with her or his hearing intact, and hands without bruise. But as swiftly as peace had fled soon she returned, and the usual going about of the families and lovers continued.
A lone artist sat at with her drawing board beside, the paper smother with the colors of spring, as she watched the sun set. Her smooth lavender brown hair glistened in the evening light and her eyes sparkled like the stars that were breaking through the sky to help light weary travelers way when the sun would go to rest. The moon was br...

... middle of paper ...

...t knew he wouldn't hit her if she every did something she was not suppose to, which is a flaw Freesia seemed to never overcome.
All to soon, a maid was ushering her to her Uncle's study, and he was congratulating her on her engagement.
A gust of sadness covered her, but Freesia skillfully reflected the joy she was suppose to supposedly feel for receiving a good match. Larkspur smiled knowingly at her which caused her to flinch. As the couple excused themselves so her Uncle could go to his next lesson. Soon Lord Larkspur and Freesia were awaiting for his driver to bring his carriage around to the front.
“Ah, Lady Freesia. I do have one request.” Lord Larkspur suddenly began to whisper as his carriage approached them. “For a wedding present from you, I would like to receive a painting overlooking the Lake. It is my favorite place to walk when I visit here.”

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