On the second day, in a cramped room, Edith was happily chatting with the maiden sitting in a wheelchair across from her, while a handsome young man faced the middle position, his gaze wandering between the two girls.

They were Edith''s childhood friends, the former aristocracy Marie-Charlene and her elder brother Raphael de Saint-Clemont.

At the end of 1789, Charlene had moved from her rural estate to this humble Parisian flat, where she reunited with her old friend.

The revolution had overnight destroyed the fortress, titles, and wealth of her noble and ancient family.

But Charlene and her brother Raphael had survived the wrath of the revolutionary masses.

Her physical disability lessened the guilt of her social class; the people saw that even the daughter of such a great lord could suffer such misfortune, their minds balanced and their rage appeased, then they generously spared her and her sole guardian.

At the age of five, a bout of meningitis left Charlene paralyzed from the waist down, and no amount of medical investment could make this damsel stand up again.

At this moment, the thin and tattered blanket over her knees was covering a pair of legs as slim and weak as sticks.

Perhaps her sedentary and dependent lifestyle contributed to her submissive character.

Regardless, she never complained a word about the revolution. She accepted everything calmly, as if she had long foreseen such a fate.

Her brother, on the other hand, did not have such a good attitude. Raphael once gave up on himself, his drinking worsened the poverty of the siblings in distress.

Fortunately, with the persuasion and influence of these two young girls, he barely recovered two years ago.

"Charlene, isn''t the blanket on your legs too thin?" Edith couldn''t help but ask her friend.

"Oh, I''m fine, dear Edith," Charlene replied with a tender smile and a shake of her head. "I can endure