Beatrice's hearing was lost in a tragic incident that occurred two years ago, and the details of what happened still remain unknown. Beatrice carries the weight of her father's musical instrument "Windmill Melody" in Amsterdam, all while navigating the challenges of being deaf. Meanwhile, Louis, an immigrant seeking refuge from the clutches of the mafia in Belgium, found solace in the Kalverstraat neighbourhood. Louis with his talent for playing the piano and decides to pursue a career as a street musician, using his musical abilities to both entertain and sustain himself. As Beatrice and her friends found themselves at Flourist on Kalverstraat, they came across a crowd of people completely immersed in the captivating music being played by Louis. Beatrice was surprised by the enchanting music that filled the vibe, flowing from the sophisticated Louis piano. Beatrice was determined to uncover the reason behind her exclusive ability to hear Louis' piano playing.
"Sigh, still unable to hear it." The resounding sound of a solitary G sharp note reverberated through the opulently decorated ballroom, its haunting melody filling the air.
Beatrice had finished playing the piano, she delicately slipped her hands back into the comforting embrace of her soft merino wool gloves. As her gaze fell upon the piano, memories flooded her mind. It was the same instrument she had spent countless hours playing as a child. The worn-out legs bore the marks of little scratches, each one a testament to the hours of practice and passion poured into the keys. The broken bass strings whispered of melodies long forgotten, their silent presence a reminder of the music that once filled the room. The slight rust on the cast iron plate hinted at the passage of time, a gentle reminder of the loss in nostalgic thoughts of her.
"What would mother say if she saw that her favorite piano was worn out?"
Only fragments of her mother's piano linger in her memory, a bittersweet reminder of a loss that occurred nearly two decades ago. Gracefully, she glided through the room, her steps deliberate and unhurried. Each table she passed was adorned with elegant Damask tablecloths, adding a touch of sophistication to the atmosphere.
"I find myself in need of a truly exceptional pianist, someone whose talent will captivate the guests and add a touch of elegance to my father's highly anticipated birthday celebration, scheduled for next Wednesday. Time is of the essence, and I must act swiftly to secure the perfect musician for this momentous occasion."
"What should I possibly give him for his upcoming birthday?" Despite her father's reluctance to inconvenience her, Beatrice was determined not to disappoint him on his birthday.
Beatrice remained unfazed, her composure unyielding in her thought. As the distant door swung open, even the approaching footsteps from the right, echoing in the room, could make her flinch. Startled, Beatrice's eyes snapped open as she felt a soft, delicate touch on her shoulder.
"Tris, it's time," Jenna said as she engaged in a conversation with Beatrice, relying solely on verbal communication without the aid of sign language. Jenna Ivy, the loyal assistant at "Windmill Melody," a flourishing business owned by Beatrice's father, Hendrik Van Whiteloe, has been a cherished friend since their childhood days.
"Jenna? Why is that?, is there anything important today beside the preparation of father birthday?"
In the wake of her unfortunate accident at Brouwersgracht, which occurred two years ago, Beatrice discovered a remarkable ability to swiftly grasp the subtle movements of people's lips as they spoke to her.
"Tris, it is imperative that you make your way to the scheduled business meeting in Rotterdam without delay,"
"Oh, is that so? Alright then, let's proceed, I really don't want to let my father down and damage the reputation of the company by being late."
"Tris, I have your coat ready for you. I just wanted to let you know that the weather report predicts a chilly day with temperatures around ten degrees Celsius."
Beatrice is absolutely breathtaking in her exquisite brown chasmere coat. The way it gracefully drapes over her slender figure enhances her long, lustrous black hair. She exudes an air of elegance and sophistication, captivating everyone who lays eyes on her.
"Thank you, Jenna. Has the vehicle been properly prepared?"
"I have everything ready, today I'll be your driver."
"Oh, why?" Tris voice was filled with curiosity and a hint of confusion. "What's the latest on Tom?"
"Unfortunately, Mr. Tom is currently on leave due to personal reasons."
"Oh, I see. Am I required to sit in front of Jenn?"
"There's no need to push yourself, Tris."
"Alright, let's get started then."
On a sweltering afternoon, Beatrice and Jenna found themselves caught in a peculiar mix of blistering sunshine and icy snowflakes. Undeterred by the unusual weather, they set off on a journey to Rotterdam. Their purpose? To represent Beatrice's father, who, regrettably, was unable to attend the important meeting. Immersed in the beauty of her surroundings, Beatrice was captivated by the sight of a winding road, adorned with a vibrant array of trees. Lost in the depths of her own mind, she allowed herself to be consumed by introspection.
"Jenn, I can't help but wonder what your thoughts are on the perfect gift for dad this year?"
"I have bestowed upon him a plethora of exquisite presents, ranging from the finest French timepieces that exude elegance and precision, to opulent leather wallets that exude luxury and sophistication, and even cufflinks embellished with intricate violin motifs that showcase his refined taste and appreciation for the arts." Tris find herself in a state of increasing bewilderment.
"Tris, your mere presence in your father's life is an extraordinary and invaluable gift," Jenna remarked with genuine admiration.
"In addition to that, it might be more beneficial to focus on today's meeting and temporarily set the gifts aside." Jenna, with a calm demeanour, gently steered the vehicle as she spoke, with a deliberate press of her lips, she sought to drive her point to Beatrice.
Beatrice found herself momentarily captured by Jenna's simple yet elegant appearance. Her understated brown bob hair and natural make-up caught Beatrice's attention, causing her to pause in admiration.
"Jenna, perhaps it would be sensible for you to take a well-deserved break and indulge in a much-needed vacation, and you need embrace moments of joy and avoid being overly critical of oneself."
"After our enchanting exploration of Rotterdam, I can't help but envision a tranquil evening at home, savouring the exquisite pleasure of a glass of wine, also Jenna you need..." Tris continues her cute rant about enjoying her life and wants Jenna to do the same.
"Oh, really?" Jenna replied, her voice tinged with curiosity.
"In my opinion, a vacation serves as a much-needed escape from the weighty responsibilities that weigh us down in our day-to-day lives also Tris, remember to keep in mind that tomorrow you have Mrs. Margaret's event on your schedule," she reminded her gently.
"Jenn, are you employed by my father? I must remind you, Jenn, that you are solely in my command, not father, I expect you to comply with my request, indulge in a glass of wine and just take a moment to unwind and savour the experience," she said soothingly. Beatrice's countenance bore a pout that evoked memories of her beloved pet parakeet, its cheeks delicately elevated.
"Alright, if you're really adamant about it, Tris," With a small smile Jenna looked at how cute Beatrice's pouting face was.
"But just so you know, if you didn't manage to wake up early, I'll have no choice but to let Mr. Hendrik know also you absolutely must read the report for this meeting."
"Yeah yeah yeah I understand," she said with a knowing smile towards Jenna.
"It's crucial for you to savour every moment, Jenn, ah In addition to the constant annoyance of that old geezer Hans, I find myself becoming increasingly weary of his presence."
As Beatrice and Jenna stepped foot in the vibrant city of Rotterdam, a sense of awe washed over Jenna. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a singular, majestic building that seemed to command attention from all who passed by. A place where prominent individuals in the Dutch economy come together.
The entrance of the building awaited them, its doors beckoning with an air of anticipation. Undoubtedly, "Windmill Melody" resonates throughout the Netherlands, capturing the hearts of many. It has become synonymous with Beatrice, who has earned the endearing nickname "De Prinses Witte Klaver" - The woman with a million strokes of fortune.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence!"
"It appears that Mr. Hendrik is not giving due importance to this meeting, as he has chosen to send this princess in his stead"
Hans Van Jorgen, a well-known and respected figure in the wine industry in the Netherlands, found himself at the bottom of the grand staircase, captivated by Beatrice's presence.
"Ah, it is I who has arrived, Beatrice Van Whiteloe, it appears that Mr. HENDRIK is too preoccupied to spare a moment for someone like yourself, Hans," Beatrice replied with a cynical look.
"What in the world are you uttering?! If your mother were still alive, you would have acquired a profound understanding of the significance of proper etiquette, you detestable individual."
Beatrice's eyes, with their captivating shade of greenish peach, seemed to possess a power that could silence Hans. In that moment, it was as if her gaze held the weight of her late mother's approval.
"If only my mother were still alive, she would undoubtedly take great pleasure in shutting your disrespectful mouth, old geezer"
"Oh, this woman!" Hans exclaimed, his voice filled with exasperation and a hint of amusement.
The way Beatrice carried herself, with an air of confidence and a mischievous glint in her eyes, never failed to captivate him. She was a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of emotions and unpredictability. Every encounter with her As Mr. Hans with anger lifted his hand, in a flash, Jenna's mind was instantly filled with thoughts of his esteemed position.
"In this critical moment, the attention of everyone is fixed upon us," Jenna interjected swiftly, effectively putting a stop to Mr. Hans' imminent action.
"It's truly remarkable how someone hailing from humble origins possesses such a profound understanding of the significance of proper manners and social decorum. Maybe, Princess WHITELOE, there is a lesson for you to glean from her." Mr. Hans smoothly adjusted his jacket, exuding an air of confidence, as he entered the building leave them.
"Tris, serving him would only bring harm to your exquisite face."
"I had no hand in starting it, but there is no denying that he is deserving of a good insult," With graceful strides, Beatrice and Jenna entered the magnificent building. Their presence commanded attention as they moved through the grand entrance, their every step exuding confidence and purpose.
"Hmm, then forget it and let's procced to the meeting room while I will waiting for you in waiting room Tris"
"Yeah"