Rainy weather, perfect for taking a step back from the tensions and shouting that reigned in the Valt estate, a high-ranking aristocratic family. In everyone's eyes, it was a perfect, flawless family. One everyone would dream of being born into. Father Victor Valt was a man full of ambitions and dreams. Mother Clara, wife of Claude Valt, had everything a woman with a heart of gold could desire.

They had three children, including Aline, the eldest at 14, Mélodie, the youngest at 11, and Lucas, the youngest at 5. That evening, the Valt family was hosting a sumptuous dinner. The servants were rushing back and forth to ensure the dinner was perfect. The eldest, Aline, made sure everything was well presented and checked every nook and cranny.

"Rosaline!" Why is there still dust here... Do you want to embarrass us in front of everyone? she said in an authoritarian tone.

The maid Rosaline was trembling, frightened by Aline's attitude.

"I was careless... I beg your pardon, don't..." "It's okay now, you're lucky I'm in a very good mood today."

"Thank you, miss!"

Lucas, who was on the stairs, was playing with airplanes with a playful air. This child was the only light in this manor. The servants passing by were all amazed by the joy of this little boy. Footsteps were heard; it was Mélodie coming down the stairs and noticing Lucas's presence.

"Hey, you've started having fun here again, I see," she declared, crossing her arms. She gradually moved closer to him.

"You can't be so reckless, Lucas... give me your hand."

"Un... Please forgive me... Melody?"

"Don't worry, I forgive you, Lucas, my darling little brother."

"Look!! Melody! Mom and Dad are back."

"Ha!"

Outside, Mr. and Mrs. Valt had just returned. The butler rushed to meet them. Melody, counting down, watched them from the hall where she was sitting. More and more guests were arriving, each more handsome and well-dressed than the last. Outside, as the weather became more violent, a car drove into the estate. Mr. Valt rushed to meet his guests, the Darnays.

"HA!" Thierry, my friend! I'm delighted to see you again after all this time," Mr. Valt said cheerfully.

"I'm very happy, my friend." Mr. Darney echoed.

Suddenly, a handsome young man got out of the car. He had beautiful black hair and sky-blue eyes. What made him even more charming, aside from his magnificent, sculpted body, was undoubtedly the beauty mark he had under his right eye.

"Uncle, the ladies inside the car are asking if they'll be sitting much longer?" the handsome young man asked.

"Victor, let me introduce you to my nephew Matthieu Darney, he's Hugo Darney's son."

"WH...HOW? Hmm...He's grown so much," Mr. Valt said anxiously.

"Why are you panicking?"

Matthieu watched them attentively, not missing a single word of what they were saying. His gaze also roamed around them, as if searching for something. Suddenly, Mélodie and Matthieu's eyes met for a brief moment. A simple exchange of glances, and yet... Matthieu felt something strange awaken within him. Who was this young girl? Why this sudden unease? She seemed fragile, almost withdrawn, but her eyes... her eyes told a story he didn't yet understand. Was it pain he had perceived? Or a loneliness familiar to his own? He looked away, a little too quickly. Why this unease?

"Matthieu!!! What are you looking at like that? You didn't even notice we were already inside?" said Mr. Darnay.

Disturbed by the sensation he had felt, it was with a heavy heart that he joined them.

The grand salon of the Valt estate had been transformed for the occasion. Golden garlands wound along the sculpted columns, while wide cream curtains fluttered lazily from the half-open windows. The crystal chandelier on the ceiling poured its light in sparkling cascades, making the champagne glasses gleam as the servants passed them among the elegantly dressed guests.

Madame Valt, in her beautiful red gown, bloomed with a magnificent smile that could leave no one indifferent to her charm.

"I am delighted that you accepted this invitation from the Valt house... It is a great pleasure to be in your Campania."

They were all attentive to this courteous speech. Not far from the bay window, Matthieu was drinking a glass with the ladies of his family. With his feet crossed, his magnificent eyes roamed the estate from top to bottom. Isabelle Darnay, a grand lady with impeccable posture, was talking with her son Matthieu, dressed in a sober but carefully tailored black suit. Both were watching the Valts attentively, especially young Lucas, full of life, who was already slipping between the guests' legs.

"He's full of cock, that little one... But they say they have three children, don't they?" he asked.

"Indeed, they have three in total. Look at the little one over there... He's the youngest of the family. But I admit I'm curious to see their two daughters. They say they're... different?"

"I wonder who the one I saw was," Matthieu murmured, observing the crowd with a certain weariness. The clinking of a glass sounded softly, capturing everyone's attention.

Madame Valt, radiant in a floral red dress, stood facing the gathering, ready to speak.

"Dear friends," she said warmly, "thank you for coming to celebrate with us. This evening, I have the honor of introducing my two daughters: Aline and Mélodie."

All eyes turned toward the staircase. Aline appeared first, her hair tied back in a sophisticated bun, wearing a garnet red dress that hugged her figure. She descended confidently, greeting the guests with a practiced smile. Just behind her, Mélodie slowly revealed herself. She wore a royal blue dress studded with small sparkling stones, her wavy orange hair cascading over her shoulders. Her gait was timid, but imbued with a natural grace. Matthieu remained frozen for a moment. His gaze had locked onto Mélodie's, as if trapped.

There was something inexplicable, a fierce gentleness, a fragile light emanating from this young girl, far too young and yet already disturbing. Isabelle rose promptly from her seat and ran as fast as she could. The aristocrats in the room were wondering about her abrupt behavior.

But they quickly understood what was happening. For, indeed, it was an incredible person who had just made her entrance, a sensational one. She had beautiful orange hair, like the sunset, and golden eyes. It was obvious it was having an effect.

They were stunned. Matthieu couldn't believe his eyes. That look, both cold and indifferent, left no doubt. This was indeed the young girl from a few hours ago. For her part, Aline was furious that the spotlight was being stolen from her. And the parents were upset by what was happening before their eyes. Aline then saw a look filled with anger from her parents, which caught the attention of Matthieu.

"HUM! HUM! Let me introduce you to my daughters, Aline, the eldest, and her little sister... Mélodie."

"They are our pride and joy, and since we just moved here..." A middle-aged man, Thierry, Matthieu's uncle, approached Mélodie, a glass in his hand and his tone barely hushed. "How beautiful you are, Mélodie Valt... How come you don't have any resemblance to your parents?" he said, smiling at her.

Ms. Valt, more than the others, was embarrassed by what Mr. Dranay had just said.

"Thierry!! Come on, watch your language..." said Isabelle. "I'm really sorry, Mrs.... He knows that dear Thierry is too frank."

"It's nothing, come on." The atmosphere in the dining room had become heavy, and the guests, like the servants on duty, were speechless until little Luca took the lead. He suddenly ran to the middle of the room, laughing out loud. His smile lit up the room and elicited tender smiles. The tension eased slightly. At that moment, Mélodie quietly slipped away towards the garden, disturbed. She needed silence. Without thinking, Matthieu followed her at a distance.

He joined her near the greenhouse, in the shadow of an old oak tree. That's when the lights abruptly went out. The chandelier went out, conversations froze. A breath of worry ran through the guests. Only the rustling of the wind and two silhouettes remained, frozen in the darkness of the garden. A cry rose from the crowd.

The music stopped. Only the exterior lanterns continued to glow faintly through the windows. In the darkness, Mélodie felt a presence nearby. She turned her head slightly.

"Aren't you afraid?" a deep voice murmured. It was him. Matthieu. She didn't answer.

But, oddly enough, no. She wasn't afraid anymore.

The hushed silence of the greenhouse enveloped everything like a gentle lullaby. Under the diffuse moonlight and the discreet lapping of rain against the windows, Mélodie moved among the lush plants. Her light dress caressed the leaves as she passed, and her bare feet brushed the stone floor. She seemed to float in this secret universe, hidden from view, sheltered from the world. Matthieu, standing at the entrance, contemplated her. He didn't understand why he had followed her, but something about her drew him, irresistibly. It wasn't just her grace, but also the melancholy he read in her eyes. Like a silent cry for help. And suddenly, the light returned, flooding the greenhouse with a soft brightness. Mélodie looked up, surprised, and met his gaze. She hadn't expected to see him there.

"You... followed me?" she asked hesitantly.

"I think so," he murmured, stepping forward.

"Or maybe you led me here."

She looked away, embarrassed, and began to twirl a flower stem between her fingers.

"This place is my refuge," she said. "Here, I don't need to smile to look good."

"And yet, you smile more sincerely here than you have all evening," he replied, smiling himself.

She gave a quiet laugh, almost surprised. He approached slowly, reached out, and grasped her wrist with infinite delicacy.

"You're different. And it shows."

Mélodie's heart sank. She wanted to reply, but words failed her. So she spun slowly around, letting the folds of her dress fly, and went back to dancing among the flowers, as if to forget the moment. Matthieu, fascinated, couldn't take his eyes off her.

"You dance as if you want to disappear," he said softly.

"No... as if I wanted to be seen at last."

On the other side, in the shadow of a bay window, Isabelle Darnay watched the scene. A troubled glint in her eyes, she seemed both tender and concerned. She knew how to recognize a budding bond, even in silence. Meanwhile, Aline, irritated by her sister's prolonged absence, searched everywhere.

"Where has she gone again?" she asked curtly.

"She must be in the living room," Isabelle replied, without taking her eyes off the greenhouse. But already, outside, the rain was starting up again. Mélodie, taken by surprise, burst out laughing. Matthieu held out his hand.

"Come on, we're going to get wet!

" They ran together through the aisles, laughing like two children, splashed by the water and the moment. They had barely entered the manor's hall when a sharp slap tore through the air. Clara Valt, her face hard, had just slapped her daughter.

"Have you lost your mind? Do you want to steal the spotlight from your sister?!" she cried.

Matthieu took a step forward, shocked, but Clara didn't stop. "Do you think a smile will be enough to erase your condition? You must remain inconspicuous, as always!" Mélodie remained frozen, trembling. And that's when Aline appeared, her eyes shining with anger.

"Do you really think you can attract everyone's attention? You're just a shadow, Mélodie. A mistake. A stain on our name!"

Matthieu intervened, furious. "Stop!" That's enough now! Everyone turned to him. His voice had cracked like a clap of thunder.

"Do you realize what you're saying? She doesn't deserve this. She deserves to be respected, at least once in her life."

Clara took a step back, surprised. Aline, on the other hand, clenched her fists, defeated. Mélodie, with tears in her eyes, looked at Matthieu with silent gratitude. In the tumult of hearts, a silence fell. He had just broken something. Perhaps a habit. Perhaps an unspoken law. But above all, he had just offered Mélodie something precious: his voice.