Now on this quiet night, at the moment when emotions are most tender and weary, she suddenly felt the impulse to re-examine it.
Cassandra stood up and walked toward the old dressing mirror in the corner of the study.
The reflection in the mirror looked so unfamiliar.
No longer the noble elegance of the usual, no longer the awe-inspiring dignity, just a vulnerable, ordinary woman in her eyes.
Yet it was this version of her that reminded her of her original self.
The girl who would be moved by others' warmth and would shed tears for sincere emotions.
She reached out and took from the storage space the harmony butterfly that carried the "Civilization Symphony".
At the moment spiritual power touched the butterfly's wings, a stream of information surged like a tide.
This was a carefully orchestrated feast of wisdom and beauty.
Ron did not use cold data reports, nor dry textual statements.
He chose a form she could appreciate most:
