The Return of Luna
"Miss Misa, could you please play a piece for everyone?" Edward smiled and spoke.
Misa bowed her head and began to play the zither. Her singing voice was musical, each word precise, like a slow stream flowing over rocks, like a drizzle falling on a tiled roof, like pearls dropping onto a golden tray, like a full moon over Audace or the mist over the sea. Every note she played with her slender fingers, at times rich and full, at times delicate, pulled at everyone's heartstrings. It seemed as if each part of their bodies was being liberated, creating a sense of comfort.
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