Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Marek on 20-07-2017, 03:49:11</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>20-07-2017, 03:49:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">The Home of Fausto d’Arellio</div><div align="center">Lucca, Italy</div><div align="center">Spring, 1525</div><br>It required a certain measure of introspective consideration and self-awareness, in the end, for him to come to terms with being an utter disappointment to those who loved him dearest.<br><br>Such intensive reflection should not have been necessary, for his father had spent much of his youth offering clear counsel on his shortcomings. He drank too much, he was told. One might have an eye for women, he heard, but they should reserve the majority of their other parts for one good woman of decent society. Occupation or avocation, even for one of his birthright, spoke of a man’s character and worthiness, and in him such qualities were prominently lacking.<br><br>His older brothers, both, had made matters simpler. For many years merely surly, then progressively violent as they grew into their age of majority, then ultimately dismissive and absent, they ceased contact with him upon reaching their majority. It was felt, it seemed, that disassociation from him was an important measure in preserving their own precious reputations.<br><br>He could not disagree.<br><br>Curiously, his sister had for most of his childhood found him amusing and clever, and her company had been the one constant source of joy of his youth. It was not until many years after her untimely death that he had reflected upon the patently inappropriate attentions she had begun to bestow upon him as he entered his teens, and how entirely damaged she had been as an individual. To learn that her death had come at her own hand had shaken him to the core; in later years, there had been two different times when it was only that knowledge that kept him from the same act.<br><br>He missed her, still. It made him feel considerably more human when he did so, and he took his devotion to her memory to be an atypical weakness in his otherwise solidly reprehensible character.<br><br>While his father had found him distasteful and an embarrassment and his brothers considered him downright loathsome, she had in her own flawed way loved him, and had given up on herself before she ever thought to abandon hope for him.<br><br>His mother, though… His mother had for so very long and with such fierce tenacity clung to the delusional hopes that he might not be a miscreant before she gave up; even his frequent and demonstrative performances to the contrary had failed to persuade her otherwise for most of the years of his youth and early adulthood. Still, consistency and the shocking degree of the evidence which he provided had, at last, won out. <br><br>On quiet nights these days, when too much wine and too few distractions combined to produce a state of melancholy rich enough to drag him back to the last days of his youth in the south, he could still feel the sting of her slap as she cast him from his boyhood home. A frail and delicate woman, the look in her eyes had caused pain so excruciatingly more lasting than did the slight force of her tiny hand. <br><br>He had paid women to hit him harder, even then, and to leave brighter blossoms of red upon his skin. Still, no woman had ever <em>hurt</em> him as she did that day.<br><br>It was fair trade, he knew, for no man had ever disappointed or hurt her as he, her favored son had done throughout his youth.<br><br>Regrets had compiled like debts in those days, and being cast out had at lasted forced him to consider the enormity of his transgressions towards his family. That he did so from the regrettable viewpoint of one largely bereft of any notable measure of decency or self-respect narrowed the options he considered. In the end, of course, he defined only two.<br><br>He could have buckled under the enormity or their imposing weight, broken and splintered under their unrelenting crush. It could have been a defining moment in a misspent youth, that clarion call to reformation that would have lead him back to the loving graces of his family, the renewed adoration of society, and the promise of a respectable life.<br><br>Or, as hopeless debtors more often did, he could have packed up and left his home by the Serchio in the middle of the night, never again to see the walls of his beloved Lucca or the family he left behind.<br><br>He rode from the city gates well before dawn one morning in the spring of his twenty-second year, and as he did so he briefly pondered if he should have left a note, a letter explaining his departure. Resigned that his failure to do so would simply be added to the body of his work in disappointment, he continued to ride north, and towards a new life.<br><br>-------------------------------------------------------------<br><br><div align="center">One of the Warehouses of Alessandro d’Arellio</div><div align="center">Rialto Island</div><div align="center">Venice, Italy</div><div align="center">Summer, 1546</div><br><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/ca/Marek_Alessandro.jpg)</div>“Master Alessandro, the girls.”<br><br>The young man in his too-bright yellow silks of last year’s fashion said it with such seriousness and formality, clearly hoping to impress his employer with his demeanor, and though the attempt was laughable it nonetheless reminded Alessandro of the gravity of the moment. He was deciding the fate of this new batch of young women, was he not? Another group, destined to ply their trade in one of the perfumed chambers or satiny boudoirs of Alessandro’s many holdings? <br><br>He wondered, at times, where they came from, what their stories were. Were they perhaps not dissimilar from himself, some of them? Refugees from homes which might no longer contain them, by economy or tolerance? Cast out by circumstance or fate, mayhaps – widows, or orphans, or worse? Or were they, many, girls that possessed a measure of themselves and had simply come to terms with the fact that the life they now entered held appeal to which they could not admit in open society?<br><br>Those were the good ones, the ones that went up.<br><br>It mattered little, he supposed. He could neither pass hypocritical judgment upon them nor summon disingenuous displays of charitable concern towards them. They were creatures such as he, in the end, and that was enough.<br><br>Though still laced through with those despicable and lascivious characteristics of his youth which had forced him from his home so long ago, however, Alessandro had at least over the past twenty-one years developed a certain business acumen in his chosen profession; putting the new girls where they belonged was important, and he therefore looked up from his table and gave the young man his attention.<br><br>“Bring them in. One at a time. You know the routine.”<br><br>The warehouse in which they sat was largely cocooned in deep darkness, with the sole source of light coming from one high window and pooling about the area where Alessandro sat. Alongside the warehouse, outside in the warm and humid air, there would be a large gondola, which upon its arrival had contained some twenty young women about to learn their fate as they were brought from the darkness and into the light of his presence. Alessandro knew they waited silently in the dark, and he smiled proudly at the theater of the moment, his own creation. <br><br>At the lushly and fashionably set table, there in the light, he and Nicoletta were awaiting them, taking their midday meal as though at some fashionable café.<br><br><em>Nicoletta.</em><br><br>Ostensibly, Nicoletta was the matron of their several enterprises together and Alessandro was the financier; such an arrangement both satisfied the bewildering array of laws regarding the sale of flesh in his adopted city and kept Alessandro largely free to do with his time and money as he chose. Still, he was not the sort of man that could keep his… hand… out of the affairs of the women that worked for him, and the induction of new girls into his employ was always a day he looked forward to, and a process which he reserved final authority over for himself.<br><br>For her part, his beloved Nicoletta both recognized the expertise of her employer and indulged the diversions of her long-time lover, for Alessandro was one and the same to her. Some ten years younger than he, she had once worked for him, only to rise in his favor until they were now inseparable. It amused her to watch him consider each girl carefully and decide whether she was to be sent ‘up’ or ‘down’. As she regarded him, she wondered how many he might choose to take to his bed for a brief time, though the thought caused her no consternation.<br><br>Jealousy, in their world, was a trait that simply made no sense, or so she thought.<br><br>There were, ultimately, two distinct tiers of the profession into which the new girls were entering. Those who went ‘up’ did so because they either had the proper breeding and background or the clear potential to learn those traits needed to excel as a true courtesan. They were the treasures, bright and glittering gems that could win a wealthy man’s heart and secure for herself – and Alessandro and Nicoletta – countless riches and a life of great comfort.<br><br>Nicoletta had been a courtesan, and one of the finest, until Alessandro had plucked her for himself and named her matron of his ventures. He had moved her into his home that same day, and she had never been happier on all accounts. Position might be secured, and wealth won, but true love did not come often enough for courtesans. That she and the incorrigible man she adored had found it with each other was extraordinary, and a gift.<br><br>On the other end of the spectrum from the courtesans, though, were those that went ‘down’, destined to be common whores in one of the many brothels that dotted the landscape of Rialto Island. It was only on Rialto that such a fixture of Venetian society was allowed to exist, for there must be rules that governed and contained such practices, or so it was thought. <br><br>It amused Alessandro to note that his brothels were not just ‘allowed to exist’, but were in fact courted by the state and encouraged. His businesses and his girls were confined to the main inland of the city, but were also courted as a necessity in order for Venice to survive and flourish, and the thought amused him continuously. There were even proscribed signs of the trade, enforced by the crown itself, and with a glance Alessandro noted the box of yellow silk scarves on a low table just at the edge of the pool of light. All women who plied the trade into which these new girls were entering must carry such a device, so as to notify proper society of her nature and profession.<br><br>That it served as an important means of attracting customers was a delightful side effect, and it was for that very reason that Alessandro provided his girls with scarves of silk rather than the common cotton his competitors used. Implied quality, in all things, was important.<br><br><em>’If you do away with whores, the world will be consumed with lust.’</em> <br><br>Saint Augustine of Hippo had said it, so many years ago, and the state recognized that even now in these enlightened times the unshakable fact remained. It was over two centuries ago, in 1358, that prostitution in Venice had not only been legalized but <em>encouraged</em> as a measure against unchecked male ‘desires’; it was better, or so the thought went, to give men a place to vent such urges rather than have them frustrated and seeking some source of release upon their own.<br><br>Alessandro, for his part, agreed.<br><br>Such thoughts made him smile even as the first girl was led into the room. Her brunette head was slightly down as she walked, though she did look to meet his and Nicoletta’s eyes as she had been instructed. The downward slope of her shoulders and the self-conscious manner in which she sought to shield her body as the light on her thin and gauzy garments showed the contours and delights of her tight little body made the decision clear even before she spoke.<br><br>“My name is Lucia, Master.” Her voice was thin and reedy, and had a quaver that showed her nerves.<br><br>“Down.” Alessandro said it matter-of-factly, and looked to Nicoletta as she nodded dismissively in concurrence. Satisfied, Alessandro gave his blessing for the event to continue. <br><br>“Next.”<br><br>Sipping at his wine, his eyebrows raised as the next girl entered the room. She walked ahead of the flustered young man attempting to lead her, as if she neither required nor welcomed his assistance in the matter, and stopped boldly in the center of the pool of light. There was grace and elegance in her movements, and a confidence that caused Alessandro to smile. He noted with approval the manner in which the girl took in both he and Nicoletta, and that her keen eye seemed to register how they were both exquisitely appointed in expensive renditions of the most contemporary fashions. Silks and brocades, lace and satins. Money on display, and refinement made plain, for this was Venice.<br><br>The girl seemed drink them in with her eyes, gliding over the plum of Alessandro’s suite to the pale blue of Nicoletta’s, and it was clear that she saw her future in the two powerful people to whom she now presented herself.<br><br>“I am called Vittoria, Master d’Arellio. Mistress.” She shifted ever so slightly, the better to show her form, and her blue eyes sparkled in the filtered sunlight in stark contrast to the rich auburn of her hair. Her voice was musical and warm, and Alessandro imagined it making the sounds of delight which would make a man’s mind reel as it gasped and moaned his name.<br><br>“Up.” Alessandro and Nicoletta had spoken enthusiastically at the same time, and laughed as they lightly clinked their glasses in a toast to their success.<br><br>Vittoria would make them a fortune, and the fact that the girl smiled back at them over her shoulder as she picked up her scarf told them that she not only knew it, but was delighted at such an arrangement.<br><br>It went that way for another twenty minutes, until only three girls remained to be seen, when she entered.<br><br>She was thin, but not so thin as not to have a body that positively demanded a man’s attention. Her eyes were bright and her gaze steady, but with a hint of shyness that made a man want to win her trust and heart.<br><br>She was beautiful, beyond compare, in an understated and dignified way. She was every girl he might have loved, had he not been such a man as he was. She was the promise of a life which he had let slip away through the copious cracks and fault lines of his own character.<br><br>Alessandro had been in the process of setting his wine glass down when she walked in with her calm poise. His arm still hung over the table, for he had stopped moving as he watched her, and he could feel Nicoletta’s eyes upon him in curiosity.<br><br>“Serafina, Master. My name is Serafina.”<br><br>Softly, his voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. “Angel. Yes. Yes, that you are, aren’t you?” <br><br>Her smile was soft, and delicate, and utterly devoid of artifice. It had made her smile, this girl of nineteen, that a powerful man had found her special, and she had therefore graced him with her smile.<br><br>“House. Send her to my house.”<br><br>Alessandro could hear the slight intake of breath through Nicoletta’s teeth as he said it, and he knew that the finality in his tone and the fact that he had not even looked to his matron before pronouncing his decision might have stung her. Still, she had never been jealous before, and he knew that she would forgive this indulgence on his part. <br><br>He turned to regard Nicoletta as his confused man led Serafina away, obviously uncertain how to proceed, for such an utterance had never been made before at one of these inductions. His matron regarded him with a smile, at least for appearance sake in front of their employees, although it was clear that she did not entirely endorse or welcome this unexpected and unprecedented development.<br><br>“Master… Mistress… Thank you.”<br><br>The voice was soft, and delicate, and yet it carried through the darkened warehouse with enough clarity to startle both Alessandro and Nicoletta as it reached them from outside the pool of light.<br><br>Alessandro looked to Nicoletta, as if hopeful that the girl’s manners might somehow make her presence in their home less intrusive.<br><br>“Yes, my darling girl. You are most welcome.” He smiled as he said it, and was relieved to see the bemused and indulgent smile as it slowly crept its way across his beloved Nicoletta’s lovely face.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>20-07-2017, 06:54:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/KVXM2r1.jpg)</div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The young lady raced through the courtyard of the villa she knew as home, to where the strips of covered gauze so bright played their games within the afternoon breeze, breaking the power of the noon day sun from scorching those who reclined upon the divans in luxury. Music spread like the sunshine outwards across the gardens and the mazes, for it was the senses that were meant to be inspired there.&nbsp; There were always those in attendance, taking refreshment while they bantered on subjects that ranged from religion to philosophy, from science to art and all the shades of conversation between. And those conversations had been the textbooks she had learned from. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Angelic creature the girl was indeed, those curls the color of sunset streaming behind her, as her eyes, pools the color of the countryside in full spring bloom danced with their own brand of&nbsp; mischief. She paused at the fountain with its bubbling song to toss but one blossom from the bouquet had been sent for to toss it within the cool water that sang its constant song to all who paused to hear it as it had for her through out her youth. A&nbsp; small prayer was offered from lips, one so sacred she dare not give it in clear words for to do so might make it disappear into vapor before it had chance to become real. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A snap of a fan behind her announced another persons presence and without turning, the girl knew exactly who it was. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The snap of that fan had triggered the change of bodies position not just in how it was presented but in how it was carried. With but the simple sound that echoed against the stone that surrounded them,&nbsp; the young lady assumed the posture that was expected of her shoulders brought back, chin raised, spine elongated by the subtle stretch of muscles and use of the core. It was not enough, of course, there was the setting of lips, those plush pillows locked into a gentle smile which must be faint as a breeze on a humid night, the way the eyes must divert from direct gaze sliding instead in supplication to the side and downwards until addressed directly. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Then and only if the situation called for it, the brightness and animation of youth could and would return, the tender sweetness of sugared figs and springtime could be unleashed to entice the one she hunted or craved.&nbsp; Those flowers within her hand were unclenched and instead hung loose within the supple curve of slender fingers polished and buffed until they shimmered like jewels she was not yet allowed to wear. With her hair loose and falling in those waves of auburn kissed amber framing the divine features of face and&nbsp; set with the wide set power of those eyes, she was exquisite. The crushed pearls that accented in highlight the youth of her features and the berry juice that barely stained satin lips only added to the illusion of angelic descent. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The dark haired woman, even more beautiful in her older age then she had been in her youth, clicked that fan against the side of her gown as she laughed, the sound deep and rich. Cecilia was clever and more educated then most who attended her salons in leggings and breeches and this delighted them which meant they returned night after night, party after party. And that laugh of hers, well, it did wonders for a bruised ego. Her renown was not what it once was, but she was well established and answered to no man. <strong>"Are you absolutely positive you are prepared, Letta?"</strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The concern in her voice was not for the aptitude of the girl before her, oh no, it was for the fact that once introductions were made, there would be no chance of reclamation for the one she had raised since birth. Oh, Zia Cecilia had taken in her dead sisters bastard with no regrets and trained her to eclipse own fame. The babe had been fathered by a&nbsp; Cardinal whose aspirations had meant many a boon or bounty to be called in through out the years for the retired&nbsp; cortigiana who claimed his child as her own. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was the girl, who with that pose and poise,&nbsp; slipped forwards in her slippered feet to reach her hand upwards to stroke the fingertips against her Aunts beloved cheek.<strong> "My entire childhood has been the melody of "Letta, that will not do: turn about and proceed again!" or "Oh, anima mia, no, this is not how to entice, remember to believe the lie, remember to gift love and receive with each gesture, even if the motion is spiteful, let them believe it is because of love.." </strong> Even her Aunt had to laugh at the girls clever mimicry of her, even the animations of those features shifted to parrot with a graceful ease. Clever monkey that the girl was, it wasn't shocking she was capable of such.<br><strong><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;" I have spent more time in scrolls and lessons then most noble born. My fingers have bled upon strings, my feet have blistered with dance, and my voice has ached for nothing more then honey and hot tea to erase the pain of singing those damned scales. You, my dearest Zia, have done naught but prepare me for this moment and now as it crests upon my horizon , you ask me if I am prepared? I know no other way. I cannot rationalize any other path for myself that will lead me to where I wish to be. So yes. With all of my heart, I am prepared." </strong>The way those words tumbled from her lips as she dropped her hand and gave a stunning smile along with a rather rakish wink.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"Besides if I am forced to discuss Epicurus but once more with Horatio I will be forced to shove quill into my ear to avoid having to listen to his droning. "</strong> Her Zia laughed as she brushed a kiss to the girls forehead, a last minute touch of sweeping the curls behind one ear and sliding flower from fingertips to that sacred place, giving the youth a charming sweetness that would serve her well. <br><br><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Come then, darling one. Let me make your formal introduction to our little corner of society and give you a few soft pointers of how to address the Barone. He can be slightly tricky but I do believe you have the key to unlock his..heart.' </strong>Cecilia took her nieces arm and began that slower walk towards the gathering of those who made the city a brighter place, a vivid jewel of the Empire. Each step was one of ceremony and intent, both of the women secure in their place and art, both of them hoping for the girls star to rise to the heavens.&nbsp; For only there could she be free of the yoke of those made from the Earth. <br><br><div align="center">****************************************************** </div><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nicoletta Moncenigo had changed in so many ways from the flowing locked innocent who had captured the Barone as patron and benefactor for a time, more years ago then she cared to remember. And yet, there were softer points of the woman, where she still paused at fountain to give prayers and led her to cloak herself to give alms to those who needed such.&nbsp; Her exploits and adventures were what they were, legends and myths with grains of truth and some of them were propagated by her own deft little tongue when it amused her to do so.&nbsp; Indeed, her birth father must have held some sway, for her destiny seemed luckiest. How many could claim the heights that she had in the time she had and more to point, have managed a love match that suited so? <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Today however, was not a day for reflection, introspection or her writing. Oh, no, today was one of those cherished delights, meant to be savored with her Beloved.&nbsp; For the better part of a decade, this routine had been repeated and if Nicoletta had her way, it would be so repeated for decades more. Of course, it was for the businesses, but how it made his eyes twinkle ever so brightly as he judged and gauged&nbsp; those who would come into their service in one form or another, made her own heart swell. Up or down, in or out, it was a rather wicked thing to hold the fate of those who were brought forth within the palm of hand. She dined lightly upon their resplendent fare, favoring the sips of the wine that sweetened the experience as she reclined in relaxation upon her chair.&nbsp; Nicoletta would never deny that Alessandro had a gift, mysterious as it was, to quickly judge and weigh the worth of those who came before them. In truth, it was one of the reasons that their ventures were so successful. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In a form, had the same strange gift not been used when he collected her things and appointed her to his home, opening ventures and arrangements that not only gifted her independence and security but ensured that their arrangement was no clipping of her wings. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Within his company, she was but herself, unguarded and unjaded without guile or pretense. The better part of a decade of happiness had brought him that. She did not mask under the pretense of what he 'wished' to see reflected in her eyes because he was not patron. He was her choice. Until the introduction of the small beauty, the one called Serafina, she had been at ease. Graceful in her attention to his selections, laughing when it amused her, savoring his reactions to them as if because they came from him, they carried more worth. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But with that hiss of breath between teeth at his words she reverted slightly, out of instinct. Beautiful doll like creature, the expression upon her face showing her above the riff raff, anointed with the opulence that adorned that overly curved form, accenting those places that made men weak and women yearn.&nbsp; The paleness of those blue silks only added to highlight the way her body changed its position, rising from the languid recline that showed her amusement to reflect her shifting mood. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jealousy was not an emotion that the Matron allowed herself to feel. It was wasted upon those of their kind and make, a useless passion when the other passions far more decadent to experience. Her thoughts were her own, as she inclined her head lightly to her Lovers gaze, indeed managing a smile for the poor man leading the little angel away, if for no other reason then the fact he appeared unsure if he had heard his Masters orders correctly. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Slender digits reached outwards, pouring her glass full once more of the dark red wine, before bringing the glass to her lips. Slower drink taken, the time bought to let the sweetness and tang coat her tongue and stain those lips of hers as she carefully drew herself upwards to stand, the slightest shake of hips to right the pale blue skirts that adorned her form. It was then that the girls voice broke through the shadows and light to reach the two sets of ears. Sweet it was, so very delicate as well, and Nicoletta could not help but allow her lips to curve into that lighter expression that actually reached the jewels of her eyes. If not because of the tone of the girls voice, then for the way Alessandro had caught his error with enough grace to manage to look relieved when her expression changed. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No. Now was not the time to bring up questions or to ruffle feathers. It had been an odd action, no, an odd reaction for Alessandro to have, considering the amount of flesh that had been judged and weighed by his eyes and his cock over the years. Passing and fleeting amusements, really, that were a part of his charm and appeal to her and brought her no discomfort. Her hand placed her glass back upon the table as head tilted giving thoughtful regard to her Beloved as she laughed, the sound a bright thing, filling the space between their bodies as she reached over him to take up fig and bite into it, tongue darting out to capture the juice before it had time to drip upon the pale material that covered her. It was near teasing, when she licked her thumb to clear the juice from it and let her gaze fall upon his features fully. <br><br><strong>"This is going to cost you, My Heart. The necklace, I think, the one with the emeralds you said matched my eyes and a case of books from the East." </strong>Playful it was, not as if she could not easily place the orders for such herself, but the tease of it was worth it as she popped her thumb free from wine stained lips.<strong> "Come now, it isn't fair to force her to ride with that poor fool home. And if she is to be living with us, I wish to see her bathed properly and I need to gauge her coloring and sizes. It would not do for her to embarrass us when company arrives."</strong> Oh, the way she sighed as if put upon by it all as she leaned over, tucking her fingertips underneath his chin to raise it so her eyes could search within his own, lips brought in warm to dance against his own for but the span of a breath, sharing the taste of wine and fruit before she took her step back and stretched her arms above her head in almost unlady like way. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-07-2017, 04:34:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://www.medievalists.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/cf90a27190cc923e0c5de8f0f4f8d5be-650x425.jpg)</div><br><strong>"Young lady, attend!"</strong> The furious hiss was typical from the lips of Bernadetta Zafoni, the young, beset wife of fabric merchant Guilelmo Zafoni of Venice, Italy. Bernadetta had been blessed, or cursed, depending on the moment, with a lovely young daughter who had the ill fortune of being as inquisitive as she was pretty. And at the moment that meant that the ten year old Serafina was attempting to peek into the library of the merchant guild house which was a domain that no woman should ever step across the threshold of, at least not if she wanted to remain a woman of good standing. Her angelic faced child did not seem to care, inching a little deeper into the partially opened door even as the matron sighed in resignation and took several quick steps to haul her errant offspring from the tempting danger. <br><br>As expected the young girl sulked, even going so far as to struggle against the restraining hand latched onto the back of her gown. Kicking feet found no purchase though, for while not a physically large woman Bernadetta was well use to these contests of will between the two of them. The petulant expression on the child's face only made the mother shake her head as she straightened the gown and hair, <strong>"Your father will be here any moment, what would he think to see..."</strong><br><br><strong>"To see what, good wife?"</strong> Her father's voice cut through the air then, tinged with affection but also annoyance. For he too knew how willful his daughter could be. <br><br><strong>"I just wanted to see the library, Papa!"</strong> For as a child, the cherubic faced with her honey golden hair and bright sapphire blue eyes Serafina could not see any sin in wishing to look at books. Most girls her age loathed the books from their lessons, and the bible, yet she had read every book she had access to several times over at this point. And there was a whole room devoted just to book, only ten feet away. <br><br><strong>"The only women allowed in such places are those of loose values, not the type of woman my daughter will be. Mind your mother and do not attempt this again, bambina."</strong> <br><br><strong>"Loose values?"</strong> Her small voice echoed the words back, a wrinkled of confusion on her brow. <br><br><strong>"Courtesans, whores. We shall not speak of this further, come, the guild master wished to see my family and I expect a well behaved daughter."</strong><br><br><strong>"Yes, Papa."</strong> And for that moment the tiny blond child was docile, though it was not out of fear by the disgust in his tone but rather silence born of a mind contemplating new information. Courtesans could access libraries. Which meant there were more rooms full of books, just waiting to be read and cherished. Courtesans did not seem so very bad to her, they were able to wear the most lovely dresses, and at times even trousers rather than fussy skirts. Not to mention the poetry written to them, the way men sighed about them, or other women seemed bitter of the freedoms allowed. Her young mind only understood but a fraction of the division that lay between 'good' women such as her mother, and those who sold desire for power and freedom. Yet if there were books in the offering, well her path was set. <br><br>As she did with anything that sparked her interest Serafina decided then that she would learn everything she could about courtesans, and then if it was worth it, to become one. Pleased with herself a smile stayed on her lips the whole visit with the guild master, her attention distracted enough that she seemed a well mannered girl child much to her parents delight. They would rue it later, that seed planted on that day. <br><br><br>~ * ~ ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~ ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~&nbsp; ~ * ~ <br><br><br>The desire born in her heart nine years passed resulted in her presence early one morn on a ship born for Rialto Island, a cloak protecting her golden hair and shielding her face as she flouted the rules placed upon her by her family. Her father had raged against her only the night before for turning aside yet another marriage offer, showing the young woman it was time at last to enact her plan, harbored within all these long years. It had taken patience to not approach when she was only sixteen, will to flirt and cultivate her mind and body, delaying until she felt she was able to present a mixture of innocent and eagerness, to know her own power in her beauty and yet still be taught the pleasure of the flesh. Oh her loveliness had made many a young man burn with need, yet none of them had ever captured her heart, not as her books had. <br><br>Her future lay before her, Alessandro d'Arellio the maestro to conduct her to the next part of it. Intentionally she lingered on the ship as they alighted to the warehouse, placing herself at the end of the line. Several of the others looked smug at their place early on, yet Serafina only smiled to herself and stayed, waiting and calm. She had calculated every part of this, even down to approaching the man known to have ensnared the heart of the most infamous courtesan of their time, the still Venus incarnate to most poets and painters, even Titian himself wished to paint Nicoletta Moncenigo. It was she who Serafina wished to emulate, and such beauty and grace did not need to be first to make an impression. <br><br>At last her turn came, a manservant escorting her into the light. In truth what happened was not anything she could recall, for the moment was the realization of so many years and dreams. All she knew was that she smiled, and that Nicoletta was every bit as glorious as she had imagined, and Alessandro's eyes moved something deep inside of her, making her heart flutter to life. <br><br>No man's smile nor voice had ever rendered that effect upon her before; yet perhaps it was only right that he that held her future in his hands accomplished the feat. <br><br>Escorted from their presence, to be conducted to their very home, Serafina was certain her features were glowing with delight at her plan's execution. To be trained by Nicoletta herself, the Venus! To have made a man as jaded and worldly as d'Arellio pause, to stare at her smile as if it were something precious. It made the smile on her lips almost divine, so bright it was in radiance, a light that sparkled in the summer sky hue of her wide, stunning eyes. Down a hallway they moved, to a far better appointed conveyance in the form of a carriage than that which, a boast, had conveyed her to the warehouse. Unable to contain her glee any further the young maid spun about in a circle, a laugh of delighted rapture spilling from her lips as the manservant at her side paused, gaping slightly when faced with such bliss. She gave him a smile, unashamed for all that a delicate pink tinted her cheeks as she dipped a curtsy. <strong>"I apologize, good sir, I am simply delighted at my good fortune."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>22-07-2017, 03:04:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Upon entering the carriage, Alessandro made not one but three observations, for his mind was keen in such a way. A short time later he also resolved of himself that he had something of significance which he wished to remember at a later date, but he had not reached that thought at the present.<br><br>That his observations came in a jumble as they did, one upon the other in such a fashion as to be effectively simultaneous, was a measure of the man’s ability to take in multiple and conflicting pieces of information and, in an instant, form ill-conceived and likely self-injurious conclusions.<br><br>Observation the first, of course, was <em>positioning</em>. <br><br>His love sat not upon her usual seat of honor in the carriage, beside him, where his hand now instinctively resided and longingly searched for the cherished lap in which it normal played during such carriage rides home. Rather, she sat across from him, and next to his darling Serafina. Alessandro gave little thought to the idea that her choice of seating could be due to little else besides his love’s impossibly delightful nature; it was wonderful, he believed, that she might sit beside the girl and provide reassuring comfort as she was borne to her new life with them.<br><br>Observation the second, although as noted simultaneous, was <em>visual</em>.<br><br>The face and form and person upon whom he had bestowed his unfettered love was quite simply beyond compare. She was beauty itself, and was the source of all that was good in his life. Beside her sat another beauty, a contrast in so many ways to Nicoletta’s version of the word, but a beauty nonetheless. Alessandro was breathless, for by sitting beside Serafina his Nicoletta had given him the image he would see with his dying breath, the two of them side by side. In that moment, as light faded, he would remember only this moment, and be satisfied at leaving the mortal coil an entirely undeserving but, regardless, patently blessed man. He was certain they saw such bliss upon his face, yet failed to consider in that instant that he may have somehow just forfeited some particular degree of advantage in the game that had just begun; aware of how rapt he was, it was only a matter of time before the two women who caused such delight might seek to press their already considerable advantage. Still, he was resolved to be honest with them, and his delight and adoration was properly then displayed.<br><br>Observation the third, though again simultaneous, was <em>cerebral</em>, a combination of the first two concepts.<br><br>It was his undoing.<br><br>But… could he be faulted for failing to resist the tantalizing lure of combining his first two observations? No man of reasonably decent character could possibly resist such temptation; it was unavoidable. And Alessandro, freely admitted, was not a man of even tenuously decent character, and therefore was powerless to resist.<br><br><em>Positioning and visual</em>. Nicoletta and Serafina. <br><br>Alessandro sighed, and an unmistakable look of bliss and gratitude came over his face for a moment. It was perhaps the happiest moment of his life, and it showed, for in that instant he could see such combinations of the two exquisite creatures in front of him… in positions of such variety and complexity as to be a credit even to the debauched mind and imagination of Alessandro d’Arellio himself… and he bit his lip in delight as he slowly forced his way back to the present.<br><br>“Ladies… my darlings… let’s go home.”<br><br>At that he rapped upon the wall of the carriage behind him, and they began their slow ride through the winding streets of Rialto Island and towards the home the three of them would now share.<br><br>For perhaps the first two streets of their journey he merely regarded them, and especially his Fina, for it was evident that while pleased, she had certain questions.<br><br>It was natural, was it not? Some measure of anticipation or trepidation, of curiosity or wariness? Perhaps a combination of such feelings, knotting together into an imagined vision of the unknown that might be fantastical or terrifying all at once.<br><br>Upon her face was a question, and he could see that Nicoletta noted it as well.<br><br>“Why? Is that it, my little angel? Is that what you want to ask of me?” He smiled warmly, and was pleased to see by her reaction that perhaps his instincts were correct.<br><br>For a long moment he paused, and was acutely aware that it was not one pair of eyes that regarded him intently and awaited his explanation, but two. She had been, his Nicoletta, so understanding about all that had transpired at the warehouse, but the unsettling and unwelcome idea that he might have hurt her was more than he could stand. She needed to know, did she not? She deserved, most assuredly, an answer to her own ‘why’ in that moment?<br><br>Finally he sighed, and smiled, and did the only thing he could.<br><br>He was utterly honest.<br><br>Alessandro met Serafina’s eyes evenly, and the smile on his face was reflected there. His tone was unguarded and uncharacteristically sentimental, and he startled himself with the moment even as he likely did the two women in front of him.<br><br>“I met, several cherished and utterly treasured years ago, the light of my life. My sunshine, for without her my world is darkness. That she was and still is beautiful and exquisite was unquestioned, but… though it may surprise her to hear it, in drawing and keeping my love her loveliness was largely irrelevant. She was <em>her</em>. She was and remains the most perfect creature I shall ever know - my soul. You sit beside her now, though I am certain by my adoring description that you realize I could be speaking of none other.”<br><br>He glanced at Nicoletta and was nearly unhinged, for the look in her eyes at that moment threw wide doors in his mind which were by habit almost always kept locked. He was always, always able to be himself with her, without the pretense and affectations which polite – or impolite – society oft times required. But this… to be this unguarded in front of her was curiously liberating. She most certainly knew him better than he knew himself, for to his eternal gratitude she found him more interesting than he considered himself to be. Perhaps what he said would be no revelation to his love at all, but rather an unveiling of that which had only been a mystery to Alessandro himself. He was uncertain, but still he felt compelled to proceed.<br><br>Nicoletta knew, he was convinced, the truth of every word he spoke. Yet the clarity with which he spoke them now, and that he did so in front of the perfectly alluring stranger in their company, was as confounding to Alessandro as it might be to her.<br><br>“Again, why, Serafina? Why was she so able to perfectly captivate me, a man who at that time knew an excessive amount about the <em>acts</em> of loving but almost nothing of love <em>itself</em>?” <br><br>He nodded, the admission plain, and reached across to lightly capture Serafina’s small hand in his own.<br><br>“Because my darling, someone met an extraordinary and impossibly delightful girl and recognized within her the potential for perfection itself. Someone took the time and energy to teach her, to open before her a world which would rush to throw itself at her delicately turned feet, as I did.”<br><br>He bit his lip and released her hand, leaning back in his seat.<br><br>“I owe that person my life, for without Nicoletta I would likely not be here today. And more importantly, my darling girl, I would not <em>want</em> to be here today.”<br><br>He looked evenly to Nicoletta as she sat beside Serafina, meeting her eyes with his soul raw before her in his gaze.<br><br>“Not a single breath would I want to draw, in a single instant, without you in my life. You are my heart, and I am powerless and lost without you.”<br><br>Alessandro suddenly became visibly aware of how naked he was before them, and attempted a transparent smile as if to momentarily reclaim the casual demeanor he wore so easily.<br><br>“So Serafina, angel, I ask you for the third time ‘why?’. Certainly you must have believed, did you not, that you would be chosen for great things? That we would recognize within you the traits and qualities that make it all too evident you would be an extraordinary courtesan? Even that under the instruction of one of the experienced ladies in our employ you might acquire the skills and learning to do become unforgetable?”<br><br>Alessandro winked at her and smiled, as if to coax the admission from her.<br><br>“Do not be shy in admitting such, for if anything I have proven to this point that I am… I am speaking plainly, and want nothing but honesty between us three.”<br><br>He watched her mouth, where secrets came to light, and noted from the almost hidden curl at the corners of her tantalizing lips that perhaps she had expected exactly that. It pleased him, for the girl <em>should</em> recognize how special she was.<br><br>“But this…? That you would be swept into an even higher trajectory, to be drawn under the tutelage of none other than the legendary Nicoletta herself? That! That, love, is to grasp at the stars! And to do so while living under our roof with us, and to be drawn so very intimately into our world and lives…?”<br><br>Alessandro was aware that Nicoletta was looking at him, but he could not meet her eyes. Not yet.<br><br>“My fourth and final ‘why’ is this, then: why could I not help but draw you into my home? Why was I powerless to resist?” He looked at Fina, and kept his eyes evenly upon her own. “The truth is simple. Because, as I said, I owe my life to someone that recognized in a young Nicoletta the qualities I see in you. Because I owe my happiness and joy to the idea that someone said ‘I shall train her, for within her lies greatness. I shall train her, and in so doing make her perfect and irresistible’.”<br><br>Only then did he look to Nicoletta and meet her eyes, and he smiled softly as he spoke to Serafina but gazed at the woman he loved.<br><br>“Because in you Serafina I see all the things that someone once saw in the woman I adore, and I am powerless to not give to you what someone once gave her.”<br><br>Alessandro leaned back, and for a moment the slow jostling of the carriage as it worked its way over the cobbles of the street was the only sound. Finally he gave a low laugh, startled into humor by his own revelations.<br><br>“I shall admit to one more thing, before I cease for a time, for it appears that though the solace of holy confession is not to my tastes, the act of contrition before my two darling girls is surprisingly uplifting in this moment.” He looked at them, his gaze lingeringly drifting back and forth between them, and smiled.<br><br>“I am terrified before you, and I admit it without reservation. For… for if you, under the care and guidance of my beloved Nicoletta, become even by <em>half</em> what I believe you will, then I shall never be able to let you go.”<br><br>At that he smiled, almost wistfully, as if quietly shaken by the vision of such a horrible choice even so many blissful months in the future, and he turned his gaze out the window, where it stayed for the rest of their ride to the estate. He broke his silence only once, to quietly utter a single statement in a tone which begged he not be questioned upon it at this time.<br><br>“She is not to be with a client until such unlikely time as I may approve it. Ever.” <br><br>The rest of the ride he was quiet, for it was only a few more long minutes, but in that tortured time Alessandro came to realize what it was that he wanted to be certain to remember later.<br><br>He needed to buy faster horses, ones that might speed their way home, and to the start of their lives together.<br><br>----------------------<br><br>Her quiet laugh was musical, and it spoke of her amusement and disbelief at that which he did, and of her undisguised fondness that he did it so consistently.<br><br>It was some few hours after their return home. Alessandro had recovered from such blessedly rare soul-baring as had taken place in the carriage, and had decided to attend to the one thing which required his attention at his earliest convenience. In order to do so he had come almost straight here, and that he was received with laughter lifted his spirits, as it so often did.<br><br>“You are hopeless, sayyd Alessandro. Impossible. But it shall be so.”<br><br>The young woman spoke in an intriguing accent that was captivating, her Italian flavored by a blend of the Portuguese, French, and Spanish as spoken in the Iberian Peninsula where she grew up and the Arabic as it was spoken in her childhood home.<br><br>Alessandro bent over her as she sat at her ornate mahogany desk in the offices of the network of businesses which he and Nicoletta ran together. With a chuckle he lightly kissed the luxurious blue-black silk of the hijab which covered the top of her head, and it was a sign of how strong their friendship was that such a gesture from a man caused her not discomfort, but amusement. Her dark blue gown was similarly fashionable and of the finest cut and fabric, and combined with the abundance and quality of jewelry upon her person it was evident that her employer greatly valued both her service and her friendship.<br><br>“My dear Halawa Saleh (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/84/Marek_Halawa.jpg), you save me, for I believe Nicoletta would be most disappointed with me if I had failed to order her precious books, or the emerald necklace lucky enough to be destined to spend its days adorning her perfect neck.”<br><br>“Mmmhmm, that I can envision with ease, sayyd. Yet… I wonder… The ruby earrings, which as you say are <em>not</em> lucky enough to be destined for the lobes of <em>her</em> perfect ears, but rather…?”<br><br>In an exaggerated gesture, Alessandro slowly shrugged and grinned broadly as he spread his arms, indicating that in this as in many things he was powerless to resist. <br><br>Halawa pursed her lips and laughed as she made another careful entry into the neat columns of indecipherable books before her, and for the twentieth time in as many days Alessandro thanked the stars for her presence. As she clucked her tongue at him and shooed him away so that she might continue her work, he thought back upon how she had come to work for him, and how profoundly grateful he was for her friendship.<br><br>--------------------------------------------------------<br><br>It was seven years earlier, though Venice was still largely the same in those days. Venice was always the same, no matter how much she changed, for the city was the eternal home of grace and beauty in an otherwise troubled world. It was that reputation, of a blossoming culture and respect for learning, that drew so many from so far, and which had in a manner brought Halawa to the city.<br><br>With the growing madness and turmoil in Iberia, a product of the mindless fear and rising intolerance towards its Moorish population and those of their faith, her father felt that sending Halawa to the safety of Venice was the best thing for her. That vision proved prophetic, for she was still traveling to safety when the rising violence in Iberia claimed her beloved family, adding the Saleh name to the growing list of victims of the ugliness sweeping her homeland.<br><br>Her escorts, Alessandro recalled, had been two brothers that had worked for her family for some time, yet were not of her kin; her father trusted them, for he was a decent man, if a poor judge of character. <br><br>Smiling, Alessandro thought for not the first time on the irony, that Halawa would later come under the care of the complete opposite: an indecent man that was a good judge of character.<br><br>The brothers, upon hearing of the tragedy, realized that with the loss of their positions with the wealthy Saleh family their prospects were now slim. Nonetheless, they also understood that they possessed something of enormous value, something with which they might secure the start of new lives for themselves.<br><br>Halawa, she whose name means ‘sweetness’, and whose face, form, and manner reflected the propriety of her name.<br><br>They had arrived in Venice shortly thereafter, and by good fortune soon learned that the most generous of the type of men they sought was none other than Alessandro d’Arellio himself.<br><br>It made him smile darkly when he thought of that exquisitely fortunate turn of events, and of how the hand of fate must have blessed Halawa, for he was likely unworthy of such intervention.<br><br>Bringing the young Halawa into his presence, they boldly presented their offer to him and named the price for which they might <em>leave her in his care</em>, his to induct into the <em>sort of business he conducted</em>. They were smug as they did so, thinking they might understand him simply because of what he did for a living.<br><br>The good fortune in this was, as it turned out, Halawa’s and not theirs. Enraged at the scurrilous nature of the brothers, Alessandro recalled with pleasure how he had led his men in beating them to within an inch of their lives; a woman should enter the profession in which he traded of free will, and any man that forced a woman to such activities deserved no better. The brothers had left the city, never to return, for they believed the promises that were given to them as to what would await them should they do so.<br><br>It was wise of them to believe such dire words, for Alessandro had but spoken the truth that day.<br><br>What remained, though, was the matter of what to do with Halawa. Now penniless and in a strange land, her prospects might have been bleak were it not for Alessandro. Curious about the young woman, he had invited her to his table and spoken with her at length, and found her to be bright and resourceful and possessing a keen understanding of something akin to magic itself to Alessandro: the girl knew mathematics and sums, for such was valued among her people. <br><br>Recognizing that fortune had smiled upon them both that day, Alessandro had promptly brought her into his employ as his bookkeeper and accountant, both of which were activities he was currently failing at with considerable aplomb.<br><br>It was an admittedly unusual arrangement for the day, he recalled. However, given his own remarkable lack of expertise in such areas – a product of his resolute disregard for the subjects during his youth – he knew that it was better to shrug off tradition and trust the books to the capable Halawa rather than doom them to his own touch. For the past seven years she had proven the wisdom of that decision, and her worth and skill were only surpassed by her loyalty.<br><br>Halawa was soon afforded a comfortable apartment on the grounds of his estate and an indulgent salary, for Alessandro had come to protectively view her as a treasure. That a young woman of her faith commanded such a position within such an organization, and enjoyed the clear favor of the master, ensured that the staff regarded her with respect and propriety; most began to defer to her in some ways, for it was evident that hers was a position of importance.<br><br>For her part, she was - and still is - fascinated by the wanton world in which she found herself, one so very different from the traditions in which she grew up. A woman without family, the possibility of a proper pairing and marriage was now lost to her forever, yet she had found a place in the world where she was loved, valued, and protected, and that for her was enough. <br><br>Halawa’s fierce loyalty to the man who saved her, and her unrestrained adoration for and awe of the radiance of Nicoletta, were unquestioned. She referred to them from the very first as ‘sayyd Alessandro’ and ‘anissa Nicoletta’. It was unthinkable to her, the idea of not showing the proper respect to those that had saved her, regardless of their protests otherwise.<br><br>It was not unnoticed among the staff that the master often referred to Halawa by a term which a man of her culture might use for a favored daughter.<br><br>It was not unnoticed by Halawa either, and it made her smile upon each occasion, for such feelings were entirely in keeping with her own.<br><br>----------------------------------------------------<br><br>“Yes, habibti, I’ll be on my way. And… thank you.” He spoke softly, and was rewarded with a laughing shake of her head as she watched him leave. Quietly Alessandro crept out and left her to her ciphers and columns.<br><br>Having seen to the entirely reasonable demands of his darling Nicoletta, though, he now felt perfectly justified in attending to his own amusements and interests for a time, and so sought out the company of the newest addition to his household.<br><br>“If only to be sociable, and a proper host, I should see to her comforts”, he thought to himself, though even he could not help but see through the flimsiness of the idea, for his motivations were far more self-indulgent.<br><br>Walking at a pace that perhaps showed his enthusiasm a bit too plainly, he soon found his way to the eastern end of the home, which contained the lush apartments which he and Letta shared, and the small reading room, and three decadently appointed guest apartments. In contrast to the western end of the home, with its formal library, and decadent salons, and dining room, the eastern end was that part of the main house reserved for the more intimate day to day life of the owners of the grand house.<br><br>It was to one particular such apartment that he walked with such an energetic stride, that being the one with closest proximity to his own, and the one into which Nicoletta had installed his precious young Serafina.<br><br>Upon calling, he was informed by a startled servant as she industriously brought the suite to perfect readiness by perfuming the linens just so, that she whom he sought was not present.<br><br>“Mistress Serafina is with Mistress Nicoletta, Master. They are, I believe, taking their leisure in the main garden.”<br><br>Turning his gaze, he thanked the girl, and Alessandro could see through the lace curtains covering the windows which faced the garden that the two ladies were indeed where the servant had indicated. They sat, curled close into each other upon a stone bench, and Nicoletta had her arm wrapped around the younger woman’s shoulders. Even from this distance he could see they were laughing, and that Serafina was resting her head upon Nicoletta’s shoulder as they giggled together.<br><br>“Oh, but that <em>cannot</em> be a good thing”, he thought to himself with a laugh, providing yet another example of his prodigious ability to understate and underestimate a problem.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>23-07-2017, 16:41:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Indeed, Nicoletta had chosen to sit beside the young Serafina within the carriage. Her reasons for this had been for a variety of reasons, for Letta all things must be committed to as such. For if one could only take one meaning or layer would mean to be accepting of a trifling boring existence and that was unacceptable to her. And while her mind already spun with curiosity at the reasoning of her Lover's actions and the strange look upon his face, as if the years laid out before him were to be ones of great harvest, that would not be all that she sussed toyed within the maze of her mind. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; What conversation the girl and she had however slight when the couple had come to collect her, however&nbsp; the gentle reward of coin to the footman had been broached or the ever so polite exchange of words and the customary gifting of orders to those who they left behind came from Letta's own lips as easily as breath did. Alessandro and herself had their appointed roles down to an art form, who did what, when and where, so that at times they appeared more orchestrated then natural flowing beings. It was not to be discounted however, how their eyes found one another now and again, or the subtle shifts that were tells the other read clearly as words most times. Years spent in that orchestration that ranged from business to dedication so intimately bound, had granted them such knowledge of the other. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course, one layer of her choice to set in her pale blue silked glory was to ease the girls perhaps trepidation or curiosity. It was to show there would be no harm that came to the angel, not while Matron was near, her shadow a safe one to indulge and learn within.&nbsp; Within the girl, perhaps she saw some bit of reflection of a long lost bit of herself, when want and innocence warred with conviction to a path unlike others might choose. Perhaps it was nothing more then her own curiosity as to why Alessandro had not behaved as norm, and still was not as he gazed over at them a bit moonfaced and too pleased with himself. Perhaps as she dived into her own reasoning's a bit more, she would suss that part of her choice was so that she could better get to know the slip of angelic flesh that had so inticed her Lover's eye to take an indulgence unlike any other she had witnessed. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Already Nicoletta's mind had begun to pluck upon the chords and strum along the strings of thoughts that would be Alessandro's inevitable loss of what whatever game he was about and by so, her inevitable win of the same game, the thought bringing that smile of hers curious and enticing upon the lips as her fingertips played lazy games along the girls side. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<em>It was more then unnerving, however, to see the way his eyes danced now.</em><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Was it pain tinged bliss for her as his voice filled the coach to answer an unworded question from the one beside her? Yes. A thousand times over it was, as Alessandro allowed his mask to slip and confession to come bubbling from over those lips of his. Already she begin to take apart the words, cutting through them in the way she did to find the quick of the truth. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which parts were for her, which parts were to soothe, who were they to soothe, where was the game and dance of it all, within the prose and promise his dark voice gifted to the air they all shared. It was not question of truth or lie, she knew the words spoken were utter truth, but Alessandro's gift of them at the time they were given was done for purpose. Perhaps one even he did not see clearly yet, but reacted to instinctual as her own instincts led her to slip her fingers within the girl beside hers, fingers that if allowed and offered a soft squeeze, opposite hand of the one her Love had found to squeeze as well. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was not a rarity for Nicoletta to be silent, to let but her eyes and her actions speak for her. It was suiting in truth, considering her chosen profession. For to listen was to learn and knowledge was power. Control was for her not the harsh line of crop or marking, but instead knowing the defining lines of interactions. Her love for her Alessandro was beyond question, or reproach. The slight sting as he already grouped them into a unit, that was to be expected, it was not jealousy but that she had paid for such, earned it by more then just existence, however some measure of that could be Alessandro trying to fuddle his way to finding an illusion he could stand by as to his reasons why this beautiful slip beside her had earned such from him already. After all, men needed to comfort themselves with illusions rather then just accept that their margain of control was limited. <br><br><strong>He could say it was for her. <br><br>He could pretend to himself that it was because he wished to repay the kindness of the universe that had put her in his path. </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But his last words in that coach spoke a far different truth, then the utterances of his lips and confession that his own mind believed as utter truth without guile or guise. The return from her lips was but a few words and the only she would speak aloud while in carriage. After all, he was apparently already cutting to the quick himself, realizing what he had done, for he had used the word 'unlikely'. <br><br><strong>"As you wish." </strong><br><br><br>*********************************************<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The carriage would draw them home, to the opulent display of wealth and power that they had built together, to reflect their status and claim of the world about them. This house, it represented more then just house, it was home and thus beloved to them. Each stone and blossom placed was a testament to their crafting of a spot within the dry Earth that was theirs, manifested merely for their amusements. Oh, this was showcase of their affection and assault upon a world that would not define them and whose rules they changed for their own amusements. A stage for that which would come to pass in the time they wished for it too. Servants came forth as was their place to do, aiding in getting their Lord and Ladies out of the carriage, as Alessandro gave his reasons to escape with his graceful flare, kissing both of their cheeks as he strode off towards the gardens and who resided there. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nicoletta allowed the natural ebb and flow of the tide of arrival to place Serafina and herself where custom and ritual would. A robe brought froth from her own wardrobe to be placed upon the girls body, the elegance of the wrapping, as with most things the sunset tressed beauty owned, it was decadent to a fault, made to force a perception of her own design upon those who viewed it. This particular one was rose ink with details delicate enough to make an angel weep. Serving girl would make sure it was tied and fastened about Serafina's form without a flaw before making her retreat, Nicoletta's eyes amusing themselves with gliding over a few letters that had been delivered in their absence this morning and with arranging for messenger to be greeted and escorted to where ever she might be when word came of the other girls arriving in their new homes as well. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To the ebon haired girl, her voice fell sweetly enough. <strong>"I wish refreshments in the gardens. Nothing to heavy. We are not to be disturbed but for that which I have already given orders upon."</strong> The servant gave her understanding with a curtsy before slipping out of the entry they stood within. It was Nicoletta who gave her elbow for the girl to take or not to take, starting already down the hall that opened up into one of her prized gardens. <br><br><strong>"You must have as many questions or thoughts as the stars in the heavens above! I will not beg apology for the confessions you heard within the carriage, Alessandro is a rather curious sort of being, complete with his own locked doors and treasure coves, but his intentions with you seem to be rather pure, but for their depraved edges. You are astonishingly beautiful, but that it is not all of you, is it? So then, little angel, grant me the privilege of your confidence and I shall give you the honest reflections of a mind edged in sin for you to consume as we partake of some good wine and savory ends." </strong>Nicoletta wasted no time in cutting to the quick of this matter either as the footman held open the doors that lead them out to the gardens and slippered feet would guide the way to where they could find quiet repose in the sanctum created of blooms and thorns. <br><strong><br>"I would ask of you to indulge me and be absolutely honest, without guile or guise. I have a nose for such and it is such a tedious thing to converse with one who does not understand that at times the truth is far more refreshing then the most decadent of lies. And you, little angel, seem to have captured something within the Heart that beats outside my chest. So please, make no mistake, I will strive to know you perhaps more so then then any other, if for no other reason then to understand what it is about you that makes him smile so, and more to truth, to learn how to increase it ten fold should it amuse me to do so. " </strong> That which was said was not spoken in anger or jealousy, it was commented upon merely as one would the way a flower bloomed in the morning sun but not in the evening light, it was truthful gift of purpose and intent without trappings of other emotions as her hand lay atop the girls own in the crux of her elbow. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>28-07-2017, 19:05:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the august personages of her inspiration and the man who might allow her to rise such glittering heights emerged from the warehouse not long after Serafina sank into another elegant curtsy, rising only when encouraged and alighting into the carriage only after Alessandro had and when Nicoletta gestured for her to do so. She took the seat opposite of the man, not so forward nor bold to place herself beside him even as her honey golden hair framed cheeks flushed in her delight. The color deepened even as her heart skipped a beat when the courtesan chose to sit beside her, a delicate, elusive scent teasing against her senses that only added to her admiration for the other woman. From beneath the fringe of her lashes the young woman observed them both, feeling the swift beating of her heart and knowing it was joy, not dread, that she faced having committed herself fully to this course of action rather than the safer, and suffocating, route of marriage to a man her father would deem acceptable. Oh his fury when he discovered her gone, but she would be beyond his reach then, and no good man would take her to his wife after she had consorted openly with so famous a courtesan as Nicoletta. <br><br>A pleased smile curved upon her lips, though her blue eyes raised fro a moment when she caught the sound of Alessandro's exhale, his rich voice encouraging them home. Home for her as well now, it seemed. She had not expected him, not truly. Oh she knew that he was he man who held the access to the most beautiful and talented of courtesans in Venice, yet she had not expected the sound of his words to caress her, for his eyes to seem to see some part of her even she could not name. There was a tug of attraction that frightened her somewhat, for she had often only played at attraction and preferred pursuit of the mind. Was it then his perceived power that pulled at her? No, it could not be that, for that she had known before she had met him. Serafina was vexed to find herself uncertain, yet she was not about to find the answer to her quandary so soon, that she knew. <br><br>The man seemed to notice her glances, for all that she sought to keep them demure, and his attention brought that lovely flush back to her cheeks just as it had started to fade. She lowered her gaze, posture reserved for her endless questions had often only earned the ire of men about her. He instead spoke, sharing of his mind with a nakedness that had her eyes rounding, lips slightly parted at the bold nature of his confessions. Alessandro's naked love for the woman she admired and aspired to become similar to moved her, a softening in the bright hue of her eyes, a lushness to her mouth, conjuring within her heart a wish that one day she might inspire similar sentiments within a man, for that, that might be worth giving herself over to. A practical girl, a merchant's daughter, she had seen the exchange as her body and beauty for the higher education she yearned for. This was something more. Something that paired with the caress of Nicoletta's fingers along her thigh made her heart start to hope for something beyond merely mercenary trade, for all the her thoughts decried such things as foolish.<br><br>And yet he gave life to her dearest, never spoken dream; to become as Nicoletta, a powerful woman in her own right, educated and empowered. It was a shock though that so powerful a man would fear her, that he would want to hold onto her when surely&nbsp; his profit would come from selling her to the highest bidder. So then did Alessandro further perplex the merchant's daughter, her lips quirking thoughtfully as her hands needlessly smoothed her simple skirt over her legs and she bowed her head to allow herself time to consider the unexpected. Again he made her heart skip beat when he uttered the rule of keeping her from a client, though part of her wished to rebel at the notion she could simply be kept. <br><br>She had come to them for freedom, not to exchange one cage for another. <br><br>And so Serafina had kept her silence, handed out of the carriage only after the other two had alighted and following Nicoletta from the hand gesture that beckoned her to do so. A shadow, she trailed behind the auburn haired beauty, wondering what the other woman was thinking, if she was displeased to have another girl brought into her household. Yet they came to a chamber she could only think of as part of Nicoletta's suit, and then a robe was offered to her, replacing her plain dress with silk and lace, more costly than anything she had ever touched before. Nervously aware of that fact she held still as it was fastened to her slender form, head spinning as the reality of all that had passed sank in. She was <em>alone</em> with Nicoletta, so close to the realization of her dream. <br><br>Nicoletta's arm was offered and with a blush that had her cheeks nearly matching the robe that hugged her figure now the blond accepted, hooking elbows as she was led into a stunning garden. It pleased her that the other woman had seen there was more to her than her beauty, and her question, inviting Serafina to express herself had the girl's lips parting, only to close and part again, heart fast as a hummingbird's wings now. <strong>"I would not lie to you, my Lady."</strong> Again, that soft, sultry sweet voice broke the air, the first word uttered since her gratitude had expressed in the warehouse. A shy, rueful smile touched her lips though her summer sky blue eyes shone with her admiration. <strong>"I did not chose this path for the pleasure of the body that might come, but rather for the lack of limits to feminine knowledge and power upon it. It is the education that tempted me, not a man's touch though... your Alessandro, he perplexes me."</strong><br><br>With a rustle of fabric she sank down to sit upon a bench when the courtesan did, eyes lowering as she was beset by the shyness that few ever saw. But then this was the woman she so esteemed. <strong>"I have admired you for some time, your philosophical papers, what little I could read without getting caught, your ability to rule your own life and so to the minds of so many around you. For desire begins in the mind."</strong> Her blue, blue eyes rose, a silent plea for acceptance laying there. <strong>"I wish to live beyond the cage of ignorance and helplessness my gender would force upon me."</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>29-07-2017, 06:41:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Within the peaceful bower of her garden with its blooms and blossoms which scented the air and the games shadows played upon the lush carpeting of meadow soft grass, Letta invoked the image of mythical creature at repose. What those eyes of her gleaned from the physical reaction and interaction of the angel beside her, was her own to partake of. Each would be untangled and reviewed as it pleased for her to do so, each delicate breath, each tiny tell of where eyes fell or did not fall, each motion of the angelic creature noted and memorized as if in those details and the words that bubbled from such sweet lips was where truth may well rest. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There was a calmness about her, a serenity that came not merely from those words given so brutally raw and truthful in their confession from her Alessandro, but of something more. His love was but boon and bonus, it was not of folly or circumstance but given and returned with a freedom that few would ever understand. No, Nicoletta's confidence was that&nbsp; of a woman who had constructed her own throne and kingdom from her pain, her blood, her tears, her joy, her cunning and&nbsp; her strength -all things that were hers and hers alone, no man had gifted such to her and thus she could reside in the knowledge that it could never be taken from her. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was not her impeccable timing or charming forms of manipulation that lead her to give her total attention to&nbsp; Serafina, but it would be impossible for the girl to not feel the full weight of that attention upon her, the vivid color of those jade swirled orbs watching her with a warm amusement as she spoke in earnest, at least in that was how Letta took the words that flowed from her lips. The words that came brought a feeling of familiarity in response to the beauty beside her and more then once she had to fight the curve of her lips at the realization that somehow Alessandro's 'gift' had once more been spot on. The girl, with the proper training and little bits of polish, could easily eclipse her own fame and fortune. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Nicoletta allowed her fingertips to drift&nbsp; upwards,&nbsp; slender digits seeking in practiced touch to slip hair pins from the sunset colored curls, allowing them to fall heavy and loose to her waist as she sighed happily.<strong> "May you always not lie to me, Serafina. I do fear my heart would tear slightly, should I be forced to correct such behavior from one I do wish to take into arms and tend to as I was tended to by one Beloved to me, beyond all others. Alessandro spoke his truth within the carriage and you have given yours to me, I do believe." </strong>The jewel adorned pins and the netting she pulled from her curls to allow them their freedom were placed upon Fina's lap as a tribute, the first the girl perhaps had ever received for her 'company'. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Letta drew in a soft breath, a thought bringing another within the webbing of her mind to be consumed in smaller bites, to be pondered upon later. For now was not the time for such conversations, it was a time to assess the situation that both had found themselves in. Oh, they might be free and fearless, but Letta was under no illusion of her place and would give no allusion otherwise to the girl. The truth was simple, women could only be 'so' free, their hands forced by a culture and a society that in it's own way forced them to make choices that damned them to walk outside politeness, to trade flesh and the pretense of love or merely claim in order to achieve the basic rights secured by any person with twig and berries between their thighs. That idea was more then offensive to her, it was repulsive considering how many fools she had suffered, who squandered their freedom without understanding it's weight or worth.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"Those who chose this path for the pleasure of body are far to soon used and spent, husks of the women they could have been. It is a tragedy and you will in your life time, my darling angel, learn to mourn for them, as if you were one of them.&nbsp; And you will rejoice as well, for you are a creature of contrasts and wisdom even now, your words show you capable of making logical reflections even when the logic burns your soul. That is power too. You are wise to know that it is not the pleasure of flesh alone that makes one great. It is the knowledge and education, it is the over all application of such things&nbsp; that strikes men weak or gives them the wish to worship. Desire does begin within the mind, once you have mastered how to control perception and to properly read the desire, you can 'become' what is hungered for. I will teach you to inspire a man to feel himself a God, or to with but a inflection change and a shift of position make him grovel like a worm. Those are easy lessons. "</strong><br><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong> "They chain themselves really, for they cannot stomach the contrasts. They wish their women on a whole, to be cowering virgins, without knowledge, or insight other then that which care takes for them. But in their hearts, in their secret hearts, they pine for that which is truthfully of their ribs, made of them, not to held as lesser. Why do you think there are so many Goddesses in the old Phaethon? Or why the Church seeks to make either virgin or whore of what is in their text? You see they would trade their wives, their mothers, their daughters for that touch of glory, in the heat of passion. And they will regret nothing of the exchange because still even with a courtesan it is simple to say "She is but a whore." or "It is of the devil, what she works is not her own." </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"Alessandro should well perplex you, Serafina. He sees within you something he has never seen before and oh, my sweet angel....you could find the nearest thing to freedom with him. "</strong> The words cost her no pain to say as she leaned her head back upon the rest of her chair, her fingertips sliding to play with the fiery kissed curls that glimmered and glistened in the half light.<strong> " I will train you, as if you were my own. I will love you and feed you all of the knowledge you wish to consume, I will spare no effort and no expense as long as you are honest with me in all things. " </strong>What Letta gave Fina was more then acceptance as she smiled to her. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"But make no mistake, my darling angel, you have no choice of if you are in a cage or not. Merely the cage of your choice. Let me be clear, you will not be ignorant or helpless, but you will still have a cage. If you become what I believe you can be, you would only need tend to Alessandro, and in his love and his glorious warmth, he would spoil you and allow you all the freedoms his name and weight carry. If you become what I believe you can be and reach for what you 'think' is freedom, you will serve until you make name for yourself, each touch, each venture, each plundering the cost of your knowledge by way of your body. They may believe we whore ourselves for coin, but for myself, it was never about the money. It was about the protection the money and status afforded me, so that I could hold the reins to my own fate. " </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nicoletta turned her face to the girls own, the tilt of her head showing her observation as she remained unmasked and in all ways herself. It was not the mask she wore when entertaining or when working, it was that which was her. Introspective and truthful as her brow arched slightly and she would lean over to whisper in the girls ear, her fingertips sweeping over the beautiful blonde tresses so that her breath could find the flesh warm and sweet, her words merely for the girl herself and not those who may or may not be observing. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"I see reflections of myself in you. Is that vanity? No. Because you can become far more then I ever could be. I love my Beloved more then myself, by choice, not by need. And he within you sees something that inspires the goodness of his soul and&nbsp; I am inclined to feed that. You say you have admired me for some time. If you agree to the training, to the purpose and the tasks and give me your loyalty, I will in turn and in sacred trust see you to the stars, little Angel, and more import, I shall make promise to you: If you choose a life different then the one that my Beloved may well see for you, I will aide you as best I can to find the cage of your choice, with us or not. It will not be an easy road, even as gifted as you are, lovely, I will not lie to you. " </strong>Her lips brushed the girls temple as she let her body return to it's natural reclined position, the servants appearing with the light refreshments to set them upon the table before the two beauties. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"It is your choice, darling girl. I would not take under wing one who did not wish to absolutely be there. It takes far to much time to educate and if your intentions are at the present to break my Soul's heart, well then, I must view you as enemy of that which is most precious to me. I do not believe you are foolish enough to make enemy of me, it would make little sense to at this junction.&nbsp; And I believe it goes without saying and yet I must say such since we are being absolutely honest with one another: if you feel yourself clever enough to play games with Alessandro while he is being so unmasked and delightfully himself with you, I will dine upon your still beating heart, before his tears even have time to fall. "</strong> The servants poured from their jars, settling the selection of fruits,cheese and thin slices of smoked meats before them, Letta plucking a slice to bite from as she watched the beauty beside her.<strong> "And I would adore the company of another of like mind within the house, I won't lie, it gets lonely from to time. I have the feeling you would be a spirited conversationalist upon the topics that bring me joy. " </strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>01-08-2017, 03:27:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>“Master Alessandro, sir, a word?”</strong><br><br>The speaker was of that particularly imposing cut of men that gave other men pause, and even the finery of his garb or the pleasantness of his speech could not dissuade one from perceiving a degree of danger about him. That nature, in combination with his sufficiently tall stature and sturdily rugged build, gave to the even moderately astute some telling hints regarding his position within the architecture of Nicoletta’s and Alessandro’s ventures. Traces of a predatory nature translated into his movements – compact and powerful, controlled, as if coiled to strike as necessary.<br><br>But it was not, oddly, for that reason that Vittorio the Asp (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3c/Marek_Venice_Vittorio.JPG) was so nicknamed. Instead, his unfortunate moniker was a product of childhood taunting; the man was rightly renowned for being so ugly as to be, to the fairer sex, a distant second choice to kissing a venomous snake. It was cruelly suggested by his rivals – though certainly not where it might be overheard - that the principal reason that Vittorio had chosen a career in his particular line of work was that it was the only possible means he might have of obtaining amenable female companionship.<br><br>Such detractors would, in likelihood, be shaken at the inaccuracy of such an assumption.<br><br>Yes, of a certainty, Vittorio was not an attractive man. As a result of a difficult birth, and instruments utilized in delivery by those not trained in or suited to the task, his face bore certain asymmetrical qualities that gave the impression of an incomplete work. Not grotesque, certainly, although perhaps that might have been easier; one cannot in conscience hold the appearance of one born deformed against them, for these were enlightened times. But rather, plain ugliness? Well that, of course, was fair to the picking.<br><br>Yes, all in all, Vittorio should have struggled his whole life to find companionship of a tender and willing sort, yet nothing could have been further from the truth. <br><br>As he made his daily rounds of their various holdings, ensuring for his master and mistress that all was as it should be, Vittorio was often forced to allocate time each day for certain numerous delays upon his rounds. It was now included as part of his routine, and one that he neither paid for nor took any particular steps or measures to pursue. Rather, on any given morning it might be an appreciative courtesan at the Grey House who might insist upon a moment of his time through adoring crimson lips, and it would be of her own eager design that those lips might greedily find their way into his lap for some time. Or at the Villas of Silk, might it not be by another sweet girl’s invitation that he was asked to offer his judgment on some new bit of lingerie, only to then almost be forced by the rules of politeness to partake of the proferred glories which those delicate garments had once covered?<br><br>The truth of the matter was, while not an attractive man Vittoria was adored by the courtesans and whores of the enterprises he served, for he took care of and protected them at the direct behest of his master and mistress, and did so with a fierceness and tenacity that ensured their safety almost as much by reputation as by any real action required upon his part. That he enjoyed unlimited access to almost any of the women in the houses – save Nicoletta and now Serafina herself, of course - was not a benefit of his station, but rather an expression of the adoration of the women themselves for the remarkably kind and gentle man that wrapped them all in his loving and protective arms. Nearly as dearly as the master and mistress themselves did, Vittorio viewed the ladies he served as ‘his girls’ to protect and see after, and yes, to partake of.<br><br>Alessandro for his part had few male friends. Men were not as a rule people that he found interesting or intriguing, and while an eminently sociable creature, he was generally disinterested in the company of other men; they just weren’t all that necessary in his world. So it was that when his dearest male companion Vittorio – one of the rare men that he actually liked and found the companionship of satisfying - appeared at the manor and asked for a moment of his master’s time, Alessandro was both delighted and curious, and gave him the full measure of his attention.<br><br><strong>“You may have a word and more, my good friend, and perhaps please me by sharing a meal with me as well.”</strong> At that Alessandro smiled deeply and offered a chair to his colleague, motioning to a servant that more food should be brought.<br><br>Over the next several minutes, as they conversed over the light fare of the mid-afternoon snack, Alessandro’s countenance never changed. He listened courteously, a picture of repose in his light yellow silks, the ones he so favored with the perfectly intricate and cunningly crafted lace, and nodded as his friend spoke.<br><br>Finally their discourse reached an end, and Alessandro rose.<br><br><strong>”Why Vittorio, my friend, you have given me pause to consider this matter. I understand you completely, of course, and both admire your ingenuity in obtaining such information so rapidly and appreciate your willingness to take upon yourself the task of looking into such a thing. Yet perhaps… perhaps you might allow me to change my wardrobe, and then we might discuss it further during a walk in the sun?”</strong><br><br>Vittorio selected a wedge of particularly tempting cheese and sampled it as he considered his own failure at involving the master.<br><br><strong>”Master Alessandro, it would be my pleasure, sir.”</strong><br><br>-----------------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>It was not long at all after that, all things considered, that the two men made to leave the estate, Alessandro now attired in a suite of deep burnt orange trimmed in tatted ecru lace at the neck and sleeves; it was overly brocaded for his normal taste, but exquisite in cut. Straightening the jacket as he moved through the house, Alessandro noted with satisfaction that his darling ladies were still in the garden and he was grateful for such fact. His change in apparel might have caught the attention of his beloved Nicoletta, were she not sufficiently distracted with the newest member of their loving household.<br><br>Very little did Alessandro d’Arellio do that was not by design. <br><br>Very little did Nicoletta Moncenigo allow to slip her attention, nor the significance of such elude her keen mind.<br><br>Once away from the estate, he and Vittorio made their way at a reasonable pace to a certain location known to Vittorio, that being a lovely and well-regarded restaurant popular with well-bred visitors to their fair city. It was the sort of elegant place one went not just to be fed a light first supper, but much more it was one of the establishments one went to in order to be seen being fed in the company of other respectable society.<br><br>Venice was Venice, was it not?<br><br>Upon reaching the restaurant they politely made their way to a certain table, inhabited by a fit young man in his mid-twenties and a petite and sweet-looking woman some scant years younger. By the apparel of the diners – moderately stylish yet somehow crude in comparison to that on display around them – it was apparent that they were indeed wealthy visitors and not of the city itself.<br><br><strong>“Herr van der Marck, is it? I beg your pardon, my good sir, but I must interrupt your meal for a moment, if I may?”</strong> At this Alessandro smiled his apologies, nodding respectfully as well to the woman he understood to be the man’s wife.<br><br>Puzzled, the man looked to his visitors and, recognizing neither, curiously spoke in his clipped Dutch accent. <strong>”I am he, sirs, although I’m afraid I do not know you gentlemen. And yet, I am at your disposal. What may I do for you good sirs?”</strong><br><br>Alessandro smiled, deeply and genuinely, for the man’s words made him glad. At his side Vittorio mirrored his employer's smile and then wandered away from the table, moving towards a gathering of young men as they gathered in a side salon.<br><br><strong>”I appreciate this, sir, both that you are willing to engage me in conversation and that the interruption is forgiven. You see, sir, I am Alessandro d’Arellio, the proprietor of certain establishments which provide… we shall call it ‘entertainments to assuage the passions of men’, and I believe you shall know of what it is I speak, having just yesterday been a recent client of one of my holdings, no?”</strong> <br><br>There was still the most polite and social of smiles upon his face as he spoke, for Alessandro was a man of the times, yet his eyes had grown hard and dark as he looked upon the Dutchman. Turning to the woman as she gasped in shock and embarrassment, he spoke softly to her.<br><br><strong>”So that madam may understand, for it is evident that she is of a breeding and nature to which the things I speak of might not be evident, the women in my employ provide… we shall call it ‘tenderness’… to visitors with hard coin and harder loins. I do beg your apology, madam, but I wish to be plain here.”</strong><br><br>The young woman reddened, looking angrily to her husband and in shock at Alessandro that he spoke to her so. Diners at several of the nearby tables were now openly following the conversation, and it was apparent that their table was now the center of attention for those assembled. Beside the young wife the Dutchman’s hands clenched and he prepared to speak, but deftly Alessandro cut him off.<br><br><strong>”What my ladies never consent to, though, madam – ever – is the receipt of bruises. Never the willing tolerance of blows, such as one man might deliver to another man that has earned one’s anger.”</strong> His tone was still refined as he looked to the now far more chagrined Dutchman, who was beginning to understand. <strong>”And never, ever, to <em>cuts</em>.”</strong><br><br>At this the young woman broke Alessandro’s heart, for she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively and looked to him with clarion comprehension in her pale blue eyes, confirming that she knew of what it was he spoke.<br><br>Tenderly Alessandro looked to her, and smiled softly. <strong>”My dear madam, as your husband has already made himself at my disposal, I must beg your indulgence to walk with him briefly in the sun, for the afternoon is perfect for such an occasion.”</strong><br><br>The Dutchman again thought to intercede some word, but was startled at the return of Vittorio, accompanied by a young man of the Dutchman’s age.<br><br><strong>”I have taken the liberty of finding someone to accompany you, sir, as I shall accompany my good friend Alessandro here.”</strong> Vittorio smiled helpfully, and the unknown young man nodded sincerely to the Dutchman.<br><br>Embarrassed and angry, the Dutchman’s eyes narrowed as he rose, his ire evident. <strong>”I shall be delighted to walk with you, sir, although I am not entirely confident you shall like the topics I may wish to discuss.”</strong><br><br>Alessandro smiled, and presently led them from the room and into the afternoon sun, leaving the shocked young woman at her table to stare at her water glass as tears formed in her eyes.<br><br>--------------------------------------------------------<br><br>The three men walked up the low slope from the riverbank and into the view of the road, and thereby into the sight of those who might be standing in front of the restaurant where they had so recently discussed their walk together. It was there that they promptly saw the young woman with the pale and pretty eyes standing in the shade of a skillfully trimmed tree, her gaze locked upon where they had departed from view to conduct their discussion. She seemed calm, and almost resolute, and it was unclear from her initial reaction as to how she reacted to the notable absence of her husband from the group that returned from the riverside.<br><br>Nodding his satisfaction that the matter had been handled fairly, the hastily recruited second to the dead Dutchman took his leave of them, bowing to the woman as he did so. She watched him go without comment, but rewarded him with a shaky smile of thanks for his service.<br><br>Presently they reached her, and Alessandro apologetically inclined his head to his left shoulder, from which a sufficient amount of blood had leaked as to stain to his hip the deep orange of his suite; in the fading afternoon sun the red and orange together produced a remarkable deep cinnamon shade that was not entirely unattractive, and was in fact largely more successful than the orange alone had ever been. His left arm hung limply by his side, and there was a degree of discomfort clear upon his face which he was unable to fully conceal, though the effort was made for her behalf.<br><br><strong>”My dear lady, I beg your forgiveness, that I appear before you so.”</strong> Solemnly he regarded her, and it broke his heart a second time to see both sadness and relief in her pretty eyes.<br><br><strong>”What…”</strong> Her voice quavered then, soft and light in her delicately clipped accent of a far-off land. The tears in her eyes, hinted at earlier, now began in earnest as she regarded him. <strong>”What will become of me, then, sir?”</strong><br><br>Beside him stood Vittorio bearing the man’s purses and sword, as well as his jewelry and the papers and items of value that the dead Dutchman had been carrying, for by law they now belonged to Alessandro. Penniless and in a strange land so many miles from home, the girl already knew the answer, and her tone was pitiful as she began to accept her patently unwelcome fate, likely in the employ of the man that had killed her husband.<br><br>Wordlessly Alessandro used his one useful arm to collect all the items that Vittorio held, save the sword, and gave them over to the young woman. With a nod and reassuring smile he added his own purse to the pile, and was pleased but not surprised when Vittorio followed suit.<br><br><strong>”Whatever you do, my dear, you shall not work for me. I intend, rather, to deliver you into the care of a merchant I know, a man of character that I trust and that I know of a certainty will keep you safe and will see you home. With the resources available to you I bid you to start a new life there, and I would pray that you there find a man worthy of your affections and company, as the man I met today was so clearly not.”</strong><br><br>In stunned silence she regarded the two of them, and then lightly kissed each of their cheeks before shakily following them as they led her the short distance to the aforementioned merchant’s residence.<br><br>-----------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>It was only a short time later, having settled the young Dutchwoman into the merchant’s care, that Alessandro and Vittorio were walking back towards the estate. They drew some looks, for though the flow of blood from his shoulder had stopped, its effects were ruinous and easily evident upon his apparel. Wincing, Alessandro rolled his left arm in a slow windmill, and Vittorio regarded him in surprise.<br><br><strong>”My friend, your arm…?”</strong><br><br>With a shrug and a pained smile, Alessandro explained. <strong>”Painful but not all that significant. But… the poor thing lost her husband, such as he was. She had heard confirmed before her that the man was the sort of vile creature that hurt women, and she knew - from experience, it seems - precisely what that entailed. I… Well, I wanted her to at least think he had acquitted of himself favorably in the exchange.”</strong><br><br>Vittorio laughed lightly, relieved that his friend was in better condition than he had first believed, and expressed his approval of the kindness his master had shown the young woman. <br><br>In truth, the matter by the riverside had been rather one-sided, and the puncture through his shoulder was largely a product of luck rather than any real skill on the Dutchman’s part; he was no Italian, and therefore no swordsman. In comparison, Alessandro - given his nature as a professional and habitual miscreant of unrelentingly flawed character - had grown up assuming that he would likely have need of the skills with which to acquit himself with a blade, and so had spent considerable time and money over his lifetime in pursuit of such learning. That it kept his long, lean frame in well-muscled condition for those more purely libidinous physical pursuits which <em>truly</em> captivated his interests was a corollary benefit of no small worth.<br><br>Very little did Alessandro d’Arellio do that was not by design. <br><br>With a nervous smile he turned to Vittorio, though, and spoke in a conspiratorial tone as they walked. <strong>”My good friend, I thank you for your assistance this day, yet I must bid you – no word to Nicoletta of this. Let me seek the assistance of a physician before she hears of it… if it is even necessary that word of such an occurence need reach her perfect ears at all. It is true, I must confess, that perhaps I might wish to avoid a certain discussion regarding the fact that we have others in our employ that might have attended to the matters which you and I dealt with today. You understand, I am sure, that given her protective nature she might well...”</strong><br><br>The pained and distressed look on his friend’s face told him all that he needed to understand.<br><br><strong>”I see. And… yes, Vittorio. I cannot fault you for doing exactly as you did, for you would likely never hear the end of it had you not; your instincts regarding self-preservation are patently more refined than my own. Only… when did you send her word, may I ask?”</strong><br><br>Sheepishly Vittorio hung his head, then looked up to his friend apologetically. <strong>”The very moment when I recruited the second for the Dutchman, sir, and it was evident that the appointment would take place.”</strong><br><br>Alessandro nodded slowly and envisioned a familiar carriage as it raced towards them from the direction of their estate, a carriage that trailed behind it an angry whirlwind of dust that would be infinitely less tumultuous than the impending storm it carried. Alessandro sighed and then, oddly, began to chuckle uncontrollably.<br><br><strong>”Sir? What… what amuses you, Alessandro my friend? She will be…”</strong><br><br>Laughing, and then wincing at the discomfort such an act caused, Alessandro looked to his companion. <strong>”She will be herself, and I deserve no less. Only… well, perhaps some small part of this afternoon was by design, in a manner of speaking. You see, I’ve always profoundly hated the orange of this suite, but I could never be rid of it, for it was she herself who bought it for me.”</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>03-08-2017, 01:51:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seated now so close to the one who had inspired countless aspirations of her own Serafina was well aware of the attention given to her by that very idolized personage, aware of the weight of her words and yet it was not within her to dissemble before one who might well be her entrance into that which she had dreamed of for near a decade. And so she spoke with utter truth, the yearning of her heart laid bare even as Nicoletta released the silken tresses of her auburn curls in a motion that made the blond's breath catch, her heart skip a beat as she tried not to be so flustered by such a simple act. And yet, she was. For she found herself trailing off, found herself simply gazing at the courtesan with rapt awe in her sapphire gaze as the other woman spoke. <br><br>The delicate weight jeweled pins and fine spun snood laid against the delicate fabric of a loaned robe had Serafina uncertain; was she to hold them then as a servant might for her Lady, or as it a gift offered for her new path. That query, as delicate as it might need to be phrased to avoid causing offensive was startled from thoughts by Nicoletta's next parting of the lips, the sharing of her hard won wisdom. It did not come as a surprise that she might have reason to mourn those who were spent so rapidly, used up and burning too brightly before finding a tragic end; she was reassured that Nicoletta did not see such an end in line for her fate, that she might then have reason to celebrate all that she was rather then decrying it as the burden of a soul cursed to yearn for that which would never hers. Oh, the words of her parents haunted her thoughts even now, yet they were not enough to turn her from this course, nor indeed was there a manner by which she could undo what was now done. The courtesan's confidence that she could teach her how to inspire such emotion within a man brought a gleam of eagerness to her summer sky eyes. <br><br>Yet the notion that a woman's power should be confined in belief to the work of the devil promptly drew a snort from her delicate throat, an anger snapping in her eyes that even here men would dare to take her power from her. If she in fact were to inspire a man to the feeling of divinity, to drive him wild with her passion and intellect then why would they not acredit her for it? It was yet another slight upon the power of a woman, another weight to confine her. Serafina's fury was softened, altered by the notion of Alessandro seeing something within her that would allow her freedom, though she worried that for her to find such it might risk Nicoletta's happiness which was the very last thing she sought. <br><br>Especially when that luminous smile turned upon her, leaving her pink of cheek and unable to help smiling; it was likely very evident just how adoring and smitten she was with the other woman, her knowledge, her grace and sensuality all that she might aspire to. <strong>"I vow to give you naught but the truth of my soul, if you are meaning to give me such a great honor as to be your student."</strong><br><br>Sorrow touched her features at the knowledge that even here, even upon this path, there would be a cage. Yet the ability to make a choice was still something to reach for, and if it came with Nicoletta's tutelage and a chance to further understanding what effect Alessandro had upon her. <strong>"I would chose the same cage as you have found then, for it surely is the best I can dream of."</strong> She was not prepared for Nicoletta to lean into her, for the subtle wash of perfume and the other woman's natural scent, nor the touch to her silken honey tresses as her heart raced faster within her breath. Surpass Nicoletta's own fame, her skill... that was nothing she had set out to do, only to perhaps find a place within her shadow. Yet at the offer extended so she could think of nothing but to assent for the nearness to Nicoletta was all she might have wished for. <br><br>And so Serafina sat, hands clasped in her lap while her breasts strained slightly against the fabric of the robe with her swiftly taken breaths. Carefully she set aside the gems and netting that glittered akin to fallen stars in her lap so lay on the table where there was space as the servants departed them. It was then with intent that she moved to kneel before Nicoletta, lowering her head in a position of deep respect while making it clear she sought only to serve the other woman, to honor her teachings. <strong>"I have had no dream dearer than that of meeting you, then perhaps gaining your friendship. To be taught, guided by you, it is more than I have words.... I am beyond them and I wish no harm to you or yours. In truth.... I am beyond delighted that I have been placed so near to you. If you truly think I have such promise I am honored, and I will obey your instruction without fail."</strong> Her sapphire blue eyes rose then, gazing up at the divine beauty that so many had compared to Venus herself. <strong>"For what desire could rival that but to know your mind, to be graced with your candor and included in your heart?"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>09-08-2017, 05:41:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There was that wonderful grace that came with motions so trained that they appeared to be fluid, to be more instinctual then planned. With Letta, there was little that was unplanned however, projection of an image the gifting of the perception she wished to be seen was apart of that stock and trade. Be it the lift of chin slightly and turn of head to the right so that her neck elongated or the light itself graced her features in a way that gave mystical appearance or the slightest shift of her spine to allow body to give gaze here or guide eye there was less part of whim and whimsy as it was application of such to direct observation here or there without it being noted. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Here, in these stolen moments with Serafina, however, she was nearly as unmasked as Alessandro had been within the confines of their coach. The natural inclination of her being was to lean into the younger woman who held such promise, to allow her fingers to glide against the girls silken tresses after her words had been given so freely without guise or veiled intentions. Serafina had responded in such a&nbsp; manner to the notions of the devils work and had been given thoughts to ponder that would ultimately have to be the beautiful girls own choice, for to choose the path was but the first steps of the journey that no one, not even Nicoletta could take for her. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When the beautiful roses bloomed upon Fina's cheek and the girls precious form moved to lower herself the movement of her hand was already chosen. The words had been plucked from the air and dined upon, consumed, the very intonation of them locked away within Letta's mind. The delicate back of hand with trace of knuckles moved from locks only to be ran sweet and slowly down the silk of that darling Angels cheek, as if stroking rosepetal but to know the decadence of its texture. Careful, oh, the careful way of that hand to turn from back to front to trace fingernails themselves against that jawline, lifting the chin so that their eyes might lock into one another, so that expressions were but images meant to be engraved upon the mind. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"And I will vow to you, my Serafina, to give you the truth of my soul. And as such, you do me great honor, darling angel, for to tutor you completes a great many joys for me. Not only does this suit my Alessandro, but it suits my vanity. You see, to have hand in guiding your&nbsp; metamorphosis will secure my own immortality in a way. For legends will be crafted for you, my sweet one. And the art they create in homage to you? It will endure until nothing remains of all of this, ourselves included. I would even wager, and I do love to wager, my darling, that the books you consume will inspire works of intellect that are devoured and contemplated long after we sleep the eternal slumber. " </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Upon Nicoletta's face was but adoration and a more complex mix of emotions that caused those shockingly verdant pools of hers to glimmer like some lush oasis as they locked within the brilliance of those sapphire orbs. <strong>"My darling, you are now one of mine. You may thank Alessandro for that in time, of course, or perhaps curse him. I can promise you that the cage he provides you with will be large enough to not feel as such. From time to time the bars may feel close but oh, Alessandro knows well how to enlarge them so that they do not strike dischord within the heart of one he loves. And trust me, little one, he will love you well.&nbsp; "</strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The softer application of pressure with those fingertips as she raised the girls face but a bit more then that lift Serafina had naturally given, her body leaning forwards as the plusher tiers of her lips brushed but to the corner of that tender mouth in exchange of breath and words blessing the warm flesh, perfect as it was. <strong>" And I will serve you, as I serve all those who hold place in my heart. For our deal is struck and the vows are spoken. It is so rare that 'everyone' gets what they want out of an arrangement as such. Truly we were both born under a lucky star."</strong> Laughter came musical from those lips as they turned and her own cheek was brushed against the warmth of the girls, her hand dropping to softly trace the side of neck as lips found their way to rest against the ear. Whispered words so light, so tender given in such an intimate way. <strong>"Now then, Serafina, since our business is done, I wish to know every detail of you. From birth to now, reflections and introspections alike!" </strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A joyous kiss given to the girls temple as her hand was removed, gesturing for her to take seat beside her as the woman moved over to coax the beauty to nestle beside her upon her bench, preparing her arms to embrace her and allow the angel to rest her head to Letta's shoulder as they conversed. The movement was interrupted however by the appearance of a gasping young lad, racing break neck pace across the garden, and in his wake one of the footmen. The boys&nbsp; motions were clumsy enough to provoke an almost wince from Letta as she watched him near trip and stagger, stagger roll across rock lined path, saving himself by doing a half leap that seemed more suited to jackrabbit then lad. Oh, he was dressed in colors near breath taking and the symbol of Alessandro's house pinned in glimmering metal upon loosened jacket, now that he was coming closer and nearer with each pump of legs. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"Matron! Mistress! Madame! A thousand pardons, a thousand and one pardons.." </strong>heavy was the panting as he stumbled forwards, near knocking the table with his hip as his eyes widened and reddened cheeks bloomed brighter at the sight before him of the two. His lips parted, like fish out of water, trying to form words that would not come because the air would not come! Not for lack of trying, as he sputtered. Behind him, far more steady came the footman, boots finding purchase on the ground in long strokes. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"Antonio, come now, boy. You had but one task.."</strong> The almost humor in the footmans voice was stolen as he lowered his head to the Ladies, the darkness of his curls appearing as his hat was swept from head with flourish. Beside him, the panting Tony made sound like croak, gasping in finally enough air for what came next&nbsp; to be delivered with a holy vengeance. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong>"Vittorio sends words, My lady. "</strong> The panting made the cadence of the words strike in a manner that would have been amusing, if not for the interruption and the shock of it all. His brown eyes glanced between the two women, as if unsure to speak freely but realizing he had already stepped off of the dock and was now in the midst of the waters. It was the footman who sternly tapped the boy's shoulder, giving a dark look and shake of his head as he, himself stepped about the table to lean over enough that his words could be for Letta's ear and hers alone. <br><em><strong><br>It was something to see. <br></strong></em><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;How the expression upon Nicoletta's face shifted and changed as if reflecting the internalized storm that such tidings brewed within her. With but vipers quickness her head turned to speak to the Footman, her words spoken through tightened throat, the huskiness of them forcing the man to shift himself but slightly as he lowered his head to show his understanding. He righted quickly, pulling down his overtunic as he jerked those dark curls to show Tony to come with him. Nicoletta sat silent as statue, her lips curved into the faintest of smiles as she drew in a breath before reaching forwards to pluck two glasses, one handed to Serafina to savor as her own eyes watched as Tony and the Footman made haste to do her bidding. It was not an easy thing to remain 'here' and allow such and for but an instant that showed upon her features&nbsp; and in the tension of her body. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As if she had not just ordered the footman to send word fast and fleet of foot to the houses she managed, via her information network to have 'that' word then split amongst a few of the girls who were fast on their own feet, Nicoletta returned to her settled position, a faint smile dancing across those features of hers. Now the game was to have any physician be paid bonus if he reported work upon a certain handsome man who held her heart, if that work occurred this day.&nbsp; Double bonus if they refused to do the work at all, forcing one to return home if the wound was not bad and only then. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But that was not all she had ordered, was it? No. They would send special messengers if needed for while she held faith that her Alessandro was not wounded mortally, for that would be beneath him and her expectations of him, she was practical. If he was gravely injured then there were other instructions, one the beauty beside her need not know as of yet.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Gentle she was as she turned her head to kiss Fina's temple, her expression shifting but once more to something more conspiratory in nature. <strong>"My sweet darling, forgive the interruption, but it does seem a lesson needs taught. I will have to have your history at a later time, forgive me for that as well, as it is out of my hands. Do you enjoy games?" </strong>The flash of her smile was more akin to sunrise upon the water, as she clinked her own glass into the one she had given Fina, leaning in to whisper to her, words for only the two of them. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>13-08-2017, 21:15:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Raised in a pious family Serafina had never felt such a tender embrace from another woman, her own mother viewing touch as something of the devil if it was not needed for some reason. It was temptation. And perhaps she could understand that more now, feeling Nicoletta's hands caressing her hair, and then the soft touch to her cheek that brought&nbsp; blush of delight through her as those fingertips mapped the sweet curve of her chin. At the delicate, though firm, urging for her face to raise she canted her head back, sapphire bright eyes meeting that enigmatic gaze that so enthralled her. In her youthful features lay her adoration, her honest respect and yearning for all the promise that yet lay between them. <br><br>Oh the words that came from her new mentor's lips then, swearing by oath to share all the depths of that glittering soul. To be thought of as bestowing an honor, that was not something the fair blond would have though she had to offer to someone was respected and powerful as the courtesan before her. Yet anything that she had to give would be Nicoletta's, that Serafina had no doubt of. Perhaps for a moment stars sparkled in her eyes at the notion of leaving behind such a legacy, something she had never dared to contemplate in the past and gave her a rush of giddiness to even think of now. Books she would consume, yes, and perhaps even write her own as well. <br><br><em>One of mine</em>. <br><br>What joy those words gave her, it was truly beyond her ability to describe, for to belong to Nicoletta's chosen few, indeed it surpassed even her most wild and daring of dreams. Part of her thought to chafe at the notion of still being within a cage, yet she trusted Nicoletta in that Alessandro would make the cage as large as possible, to give her the freedom she so yearned for. Desire flooded her in that teasing, oh so light brush of lips against the corner of her mouth, heart leaping into fast pace as she trembled and wondered what it would be to feel the fullness of Nicoletta's kiss. <strong>"I shall thank that lucky star each day until the end of my days, for it has blessed me most profoundly."</strong> Serafina's reply whispered out with awe laced through it, her own lips parting in a gentle gasp as the tease of the chestnut haired beauty's lips against her ear. <br><br>Every detail... part of her wondered for a moment if Nicoletta wished her to disrobe then, to be on display and if that the case she would gladly lay herself bare for the other woman. Yet it was the words that followed it that helped tether her back to reality rather than a joyful rush toward the abandon of the bliss found in a lover's arms. Blushing hotly at the direction her thoughts had taken Serafina obeyed the silent command to rise from where she had knelt and return to her seat upon the bench. She softened into Letta's arms only partially self conscious, attempting to push the desire within her away to focus and give that which was asked for so sweetly. Perhaps once night touched the sky that stretched wide above them such things could be explored, or if not she would abide in patience until her lady mentor thought her ready. Softly she found her voice, sharing with the courtesan her earliest memories, and reaching the point from whence she had chosen this path when a young lad raced through the garden to reach them. <br><br>At the intrusion Serafina rose slightly from where she had been nestled to the other woman, her summer sky eyes alive with the inquisitive light that told of such a strong faction of her personality. The footman who joined the over spent page, a handsome man with dark curls and amber eyes who Serafina would not have minded flirting with before this blessed day. The name Vittorio did not have any meaning to her at first, though some introspection yielded the possibility of the Asp perhaps being the one spoken of, he who served Alessandro's whims in many ways. The blond watched silently as the footman leaned in, sharing information with her mentor and she alone. Yet the expression that came to that beloved woman's features hinted at perhaps what had come to pass, something she was not in the lease pleased with. The two males departed, leaving her alone with Nicoletta who handed her a glass with cool fruit wine within it. Lightly the maiden sipped, waiting for information, yet not intending to push for it should it not wish to be shared. <br><br>Nicoletta turned to her, those lovely lips pressing a kiss to her temple and again expression changed, rather akin to the manner of the ocean's mood shifting rapidly upon whim. She much preferred this expression though, one that invited her into mischief perhaps. <strong>"Some games, my Lady, though my father frowned upon my learning any of them. If you mean the game of flirting, that I know well enough. What is it you need of me for this game?"</strong> For whatever it was she would give it and gladly. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>15-08-2017, 17:25:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Over the course of the time it took to drink two substantial glasses of wine in the mid-morning sun with his good friend Vittorio, Alessandro was able to give weight to his options and to contemplate the approaching storm of his love’s wrath. The two men sat at a small table outside the establishment where they had made the acquaintance of the dead Dutchman, and though the blood on his attire drew stares from passerby, none bothered them. It was idyllic, in an impending doom sort of manner, and the wine was a beautifully artful red that was both pleasing and rich.<br><br><strong>“Did you know, my friend, that we have three coachmen at the estate, and yet none are elevated one above the other? That all bear the title ‘coachman’, yet none ‘primo’?”</strong><br><br>Vittorio regarded his friend and employer with curiosity, for this hardly seemed to be the direction he expected their conversation might take. <strong>“I… I did not, sir. Pray, how might that be…?”</strong><br><br>With a wave of his hand Vittorio broke in. <strong>“I shall explain.”</strong> Dividing the last of the wine between their glasses, he gave the empty bottle a disappointed and annoyed look before setting it down and picking up his glass. He winced then, for his shoulder was causing a fair amount of pain, and yet as the wine flowed and time passed it became satisfyingly less bothersome.<br><br><strong>“You see, my brother, none bear the title ‘primo’ because none has <em>earned</em> it.”</strong><br><br>Vittorio rolled that around in his mind, and it was clear that Alessandro was intent that this tack in their dialogue should continue. <strong>“Why, sir, how might one of them so demonstrate their worthiness?”</strong><br><br>With a nod Alessandro swirled the lush red in his glass and nodded, approving of his friend’s keen question. <br><br><strong>“They would, then, prove by their skills and actions that they are superior to their peers. Show that they are able to perform the task more ably, or more expediently, or in a more pleasing manner.”</strong><br><br>Now even more puzzled, Vittorio was no longer humoring his friend, but was now genuinely invested in learning the point that was slowly being made.<br><br><strong>“And, sir? One has not, I take it?”</strong><br><br><strong>“Of a certainty they have not, and it disappoints me - yet their collective failure is nonetheless of use on this fine morning.”</strong> Alessandro nodded, and drained his glass before setting it down. <strong>“This is of utility, as I say, because of this: none have demonstrated their superior skills, as all accomplish the same tasks in almost the same manner and time. All prepare the coach to the same standard of readiness, and tend to its maintenance with similar degrees of care. Each would even drive the carriage from the estate to this fine location in roughly the same time, within minutes of each other.”</strong><br><br>Finally it was clear, and Vittorio nodded gravely. <strong>“I see, sir. And this is of use to us, because…”</strong><br><br>Alessandro clapped his good arm upon his friend’s shoulder, and pursed his lips as he nodded. <strong>“Because all of them, each of the coachmen in my employ, would have managed to be here by now, and in fact would have arrived some minutes ago. From that we might know with confidence, my good Vittorio… she’s not coming, and we are in very deep trouble indeed, you and I.”</strong><br><br>The proclamation hung in the air for a moment, and neither man spoke. Warily Vittorio drained his glass as well, and set it slowly and carefully down upon the table. <strong>“Then… what is your plan, sir? What shall we do?”</strong><br><br>Gravely Alessandro looked to his friend, and leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. <strong>“The only thing we may do, Vittorio. The only thing we may.”</strong><br><br>At that he raised his good arm, and with a slight gesture caught the attention of the sweet young girl who tended to their table.<br><br>------------------------------------------------<br><br>King Charles VIII… King Louis XII… The League of Cambrai, and the League of Cognac… Even the Ottomans!<br><br>Yes, over the centuries there had been a series of invaders and conquerors that had strode towards Venice with triumph in their hearts and resolve in their veins, but yet… yet, had their ever been such crusaders as these? Had there ever been more worthy noble souls, who so boldly strode through the streets of Venice? Any braver, or truer, or… louder?<br><br>From a good distance could the invaders be heard, their outbursts of laughter and endless stream of half-shouted conversation ringing out as they arm-in-arm marched towards battle with the Dragon of Venice. Behind them marched their army, and that such army was in fact merely a boy struggling to carry a stout wooden crate of some dozen bottles of the wine which fueled them onward to their destiny…? By this, the worthy heroes seemed not bothered in the least, and they soldiered on with aplomb.<br><br>Of a certainty, the Dragon was beloved. Was doted upon, and all that Alessandro had ever wanted or needed in life. But was there not genius in his approach? Was there not inspiration in a frontal assault upon the bastions of his estates rather than some cowardly crawl homeward? In striding boldly and proclaiming, <em>‘I am your man! Take me to your bed, and do my bidding’</em>?<br><br>It had made sense, there beside the road as Alessandro had described his brave plan, and his councilor Vittorio had both endorsed the plan and pledged his support on the campaign. Even as they marched, and talked, and drank… quite liberally, for the walk was long… even then had the plan grown in appeal and become all the more obvious in their minds. And yes, even as the boy laboriously trudged with their wine and shook his head ominously in warning, yet still they strode forward, to find glory.<br><br>Now, then… now, at the very gates of the estate did they pause, and gave unto each other such a grave and serious look as to make certain they each knew that they entered the Dragon’s lair. As commander, Alessandro the Brave – for so he had been named along the path of their march by his august companion, Vittorio the Stalwart – moved through the gates with a flourish, leaping dramatically and surprisingly catching himself before he fell. <br><br>Such acrobatics, such prowess, brought a cheer from Vittorio, who likewise breached the gate with style. Even the boy now staggering with the heavy crate of wine seemed pleased, and his small cries of encouragement only served to drive on the invaders.<br><br><strong>“I tell you, Vittorio…”</strong> Alessandro paused for a moment, struggling, and then his face lit up as he was once more able to follow his own thoughts. <strong>“I tell you Vittorio, there is but one thing to do. As Malionnari himself stood at the gates and offered his challenge, so too must we. It is… our destiny.”</strong><br><br>Swaying slightly, Vittorio nodded seriously. <strong>“So it is, sir. Our destiny, yes! We must… what is it we must do?”</strong><br><br>At this the boy sat the crate down to watch and to rest his tired arms, for it was evident that there would be no further progress for some time, and the leaders of their expedition were in truth quite entertaining.<br><br><strong>“Just this, Vittorio. Just this.”</strong> Alessandro tottered to his friend and placed his good arm around his shoulder, then leaned over to whisper to him. <strong>“We must make our challenge to the Dragon known, that we are men, and that I am here to claim what is mine, and that you… that we will find a girl for you as well.”</strong><br><br>Vittorio seemed pleased with such an idea, and was ready to follow his commander into the breach. <strong>“Annalisa, sir. I should like it to be her. And a fine plan, Alessandro. But… how might we do this?”</strong><br><br><strong>“Just so, sir. Just so.”</strong> At that Alessandro tilted his head back to the heavens, his face upon the windows of the apartments where he knew the Dragon must be, and began to bellow forth in enthusiastically off-key song. <br><br>Immediately Vittorio joined in, for he knew quite well the ribald drinking song that Alessandro had selected as their battle hymn. Their voices bounced off the stone walls and filled the courtyard, and gained in intensity as the heroes noted curious heads begin to fill windows to look out upon them.<br><br>They were feeling triumphant then, and glorious, until a certain face filled a certain window. At that moment their song… well, it faltered, and their will seemed to deflate noticeably as well.<br><br>The two men stood, gently swaying and holding each other up, and looked up to the window with concern. It was Alessandro – no longer Alessandro the Brave, but just Alessandro – that spoke first.<br><br><strong>“Run. Save yourself man, for the Dragon is upon us.”</strong><br><br>Fits of uncontrollable laughter then shook the two as, with tears of mirth in their eyes, they gasped for air and awaited their fate.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>09-10-2017, 21:41:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was in one of those gentle moments which passed as their whispers did, within the garden, that Nicoletta held no doubt there would be poets and painters, who would sell their soul, if possible for but the chance to attempt to keep some part of Serafina immortal through their art. A gift to give their sons and their sons sons, throughout time, that once such a glorious angel walked the earth amongst mortal men. As she whispered conspiratorially to the Angel and breathed in the air blessed with the girls own scent, a question formed within the confines of her deft mind that only for a moment brought a shadow across her features, ferreted away to be explored when there was not color upon her cheeks or a plan hatching from her lips. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Now, what passed between Serafina and Nicoletta in those whispers was indeed mischievous in many ways. And once they had set themselves to task, it was certain it must be followed through- for a lesson must be learned, although with Aless she had learned long ago often the learning went both ways. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Grateful she was for the help of the staff, always capable of being able to pull off the most stunning of triumphs, even if it was merely upon one of her whims or wills and this was no different. For as Nicoletta moved her 'pawns' to watch the road and took up residence for a few short moments scripting invitations and giving instructions, it was from her own closet that Serafina would be outfitted for this evening, although measurements were taken to start her own closet, of course. Game afoot or not, there was no need to neglect such responsibilities. Cloth and colors for some of those garments would come later, Aless would need to give his in such regards, for now Nicoletta amused herself with the basics. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And so quickly the afternoon became evening and the evening became night. Now, Nicoletta was not prepared for how long it would take for her 'pawns' to run back, giving warning that he was finally approaching, his man in 'arms' at his side and the poor boy near shoeless wandering behind. But the afternoon had passed preparing and the evening bleeding into night had been spent in a glorious fashion. <br><br>After all, one didn't get to host a 'funeral' feast without the sorrow often, did they? <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The drapes of ebon color were brought in rolls from one of the finer houses owned, where an exotic play of sorts had called for them.&nbsp; In fact, it was quite apparent house was outfitted both for feast and mourning-- the gauzy darkness flowing from pillars and off balconies, kissed by the beautiful firelight of candles brought to fill the night with a macabre sort of beauty. The smells of flowers and food seeped outwards with the breeze of open doors and windows- to kiss the moon light dancing over the water of fountains with a bitter sweetness as from within, music drifted in the polyphonic kissed tones that sounded so sacred. Only if one listened closely enough to the words, could one hear they were taken from Canticum Canticorum the vernacular making it a madrigal and not a pure motet. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Those who had been invited were told to wear masks, for such was an important factor. Indeed, each guest was hand selected and each wore the simple vestment of mourning in recreation of the 'classical' period. White and black, the tunics and togas were along with the veiling that covered the womens hair, the masks upon features, those were ones that if Alessandro were sober enough might be connected to a 'vice' party once held, each looked the same dependent upon male or female who they adorned. Now, had this been because Nicoletta did not wish to let anyone see Serafina before her coming out - that question could be asked. But the guises allowed the girl to wander amongst the handful of friends that Nicoletta trusted enough to allow within her home. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The guests had been given their instructions and dinner had been fantastic, eaten out of doors while conversations on art and music, on philosophy and religion had taken place, at times a bit too loudly. Serafina was introduced as Nicoletta's ward, which was enough warning to stop even the bolder of their ranks to halt whatever mischief may have been had for the woman whose face could not really be seen anyhow. Besides, the anticipation of when the 'guests' of honor would arrive was eating at each person, until the messenger broke in to whisper into Nicoletta's ear. Gentle she was as she rose from the recline upon her settee, the motion for Seraphina to join her in the back, the other women knew the way to the window in question. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was an older hand that reached outwards to open the window so that balcony might be broached as a few of the younger women stifled their laughter, and Nicoletta guided Serafina to the middle of the grouping with her.&nbsp; It was from that window that no less than ten women slipped forwards, the sound of menfolk behind them enjoying their cups as in one voice they spoke downwards, like some oracle of old. <strong>“You interrupt a funeral feast for our Alessandro d’Arellio and his man, Vittorio. What gift do you bring to beg forgiveness for such rudeness? “</strong><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Perhaps it was sight enough, the simple garb in it's dark coloring, the veils that covered the hair, the way the white masks glimmered in moonlight as the breeze caught the dark vestments that adorned pillars that braced the balcony on which they stood.&nbsp; Enjoying the serenade, however off key it was, from their guests of honor down below almost as much as they enjoyed the words that spilled from drunken lips as the lower doors opened and the menfolk in their own garb came to rest on either side of it, spilling out into the courtyard. Oh, perhaps the Dragon had adorned the lair they marched towards with traps a plenty for all their forward assault and its stunning glory, complete with the mirth filled laughter that exploded from their lips in contrast with the feigned solemness of those who received them both on balcony and ground, awaiting their answer. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>02-11-2017, 01:23:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Having grown up in a merchant house Serafina found herself near awestruck at the swift action of the staff, the way they moved with grace and beauty, and yet achieved such aims as the Lady put forth to them with nary a moment wasted. They had had but two servants in her home, and here there was a veritable army of them, all dancing to Nicoletta’s whim. And oh how lucky were she to shadow such greatness, to sit at the courtesan’s elbow and with great attention learn how such feats were accomplished in this game of wills between a Lady and her Lord. <br><br>Once more came the gift of clothing from Nicoletta’s infamous own wardrobe, adjusted to fit her figure just so though they had much the same in regards to the width of their generous hips, though Serafina was perhaps slightly smaller of breast, still budding into womanhood. The gown she was decorated with, for it seemed far more ornamentation than practical clothing, needed hemmed some three inches to compensate for the difference of their height, yet Nicoletta only smiled as she oversaw the work, and once clothing was addressed they removed themselves to the task of overseeing the decorating of the house for a funeral feast. <br><br>No sorrow haunted those beautiful eyes, so Serafina gathered that there was no danger to the one Nicoletta held dearest. Instead there was mirth, a hint of challenge, and so happily did the golden haired maiden dedicate herself to anything asked of her. When the first carriage arrived her Lady mentor pulled her into a hidden room, tucked just off the grand foyer and wrapped about her features a mask of raven black, a veil tucked into her sunshine tresses to match the flowing gown of black classical gown that hinted to the youthful body beneath it. To her midnight ebony garments and mask, Nicoletta was the purest white of snow, the veil wrapped about her dark hair sparkling with diamonds just as the one in Serafina’s own glittered with the darkest onyx. <br><br>It was a trusted handful of guests, friends from what she had gathered, and she lingered closely to her mentor through both dinner and the music that followed, offering only a few words when directly asked and otherwise keeping her silence. She was to remain a mystery, that she could understand and thus strive to keep her status as an enigma until such time that Nicoletta and Alessandro decided she was ready for the world. <br><br>There was no denying the way her heart skipped a beat when Nicoletta rose from her lounge, gesturing for the blond to join her. Instantly the younger woman obeyed, linking arms with the courtesan to glide to a destination she did not know for so much of the house was still a mystery to her. Were she not so focused upon her mentor Serafina might have found her head spinning from the sheer amount of changes to her life in such a short time, yet no regret lay within her breast. Nay indeed, only bright joy and an eagerness to see how this game would end. Out into the moon kissed night the sounds changed, drunk laughter spilling upward from where Alessandro, her new Lord and master in many ways, and his Asp, clutched at each other and braved Nicoletta’s wrath that was not wrath. <br><br>Blue eyes found Alessandro’s features, altered from the calculation of this morning to be softened, or perhaps loosened with the wine they had imbibed. There was no denying the man was handsome, mature and powerful as he had made himself. She admired him, in truth, for carving out a life that suited him so well, for loving and being loved by Nicoletta, and for this as well. Many men of power would never abandon their staunch dignity for fear of being lesser. Yet it was his very abandon that made him <em>more</em>, that made him singular. As she gazed down at his moon painted features with a mask to disguise her own countenance and remove it from observation the young woman felt the flutter of desire, to know what it meant to be so free, to be his as Nicoletta was, and to be <em>theirs</em>. Perhaps that desire shone in her sapphire gaze, perhaps it softened her full lips, her heart beating faster as she observed two masters at play and wondered of the day she would join them fully.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>02-11-2017, 02:36:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Puzzled glances were exchanged at the unexpected development, and when it became evident that neither Alessandro nor Vittorio had any firm grasp on what was happening, both did the only wise thing at their disposal.<br><br><strong>”Tell me, boy, what do you make of this? What might this all mean, do you imagine?”</strong><br><br>The boy’s reticence to be drawn into his masters’ plan was apparent, but as he had not yet been paid or tipped he could hardly decline to offer the requested opinion.<br><br><strong>”It would seem, good master Alessandro the Brave, that your household mourns your passing. They ask for some offering, some token of your sorrow at interrupting their sorrowful feast.”</strong><br><br>With a leery eye did Alessandro regard Vittorio as he considered the boy’s words, for such was ill news indeed. That the Dragon had gone to such trouble as this? They would not be hearing the end of this - not for days, as he had envisioned, but likely not even for weeks.<br><br>Still, an offering was demanded, and he would make one. It was a start.<br><br>He went to spread his arms wide in addressing them, but soon was reminded of the likely source of the Dragon's ire as his left arm ached in protest. Cradling it to his chest for a moment, he put on his best devil-may-care visage and bowed to the host... but was well aware that the eyes of the Dragon were upon him, noting no doubt his pain.<br><br>It did little, likely, to improve her mood, and so he pressed on with aplomb as he addressed the assembly.<br><br><strong>”You require a token of our regret, is it? Fair enough, then. I shall capitulate, for your demand is reasonable.”</strong> In spite of the copious amount of wine flowing through his veins, still did Alessandro manage oratory of a sufficiently impassioned nature as to convince of his sincerity. <strong>”You may have… the boy!”</strong><br><br>At this the young boy and Vittorio exchanged glances, and Vittorio nodded reassuringly to their protégé, holding up a hand to forestall any protests. Leaning over, Vittorio hurriedly whispered into Alessandro’s ear, and his words appeared to have some magical powers, for quickly comprehension broke upon their leader’s face.<br><br><strong>”Our wine! You may have our wine!”</strong> <br><br>At this the assembly seemed pleased and voiced with enthusiasm their acceptance of the offer. Whether it was received as favorably by the Dragon remained to be seen, but then one could hardly anticipate her reaction in many things, could they?<br><br><strong>”Yes. You many have the wine. <em>We’re</em> keeping the boy.”</strong> Alessandro nodded confidently, elbowing Vittorio in the ribs as if to imply that he and his second were already in complete agreement on the matter.<br><br>At this Vittorio, a step behind his master, looked to their young accomplice and gave a quizzical look and a shrug. For his part the young boy blinked twice, gazing at the estates before him… at the manicured lawns and lovingly tended facades… at the omnipresent wealth and beauty, and at a life he might previously have only dreamed… and at the bounty of beautiful and happy women that leaned from every window and balcony. <br><br>It took fully four seconds for him to nod his agreement at the master’s – <em>his</em> master’s – preposterous notion, and for the life of a young orphan boy to take a remarkably fortuitous turn for the better. The boy – who, it was subsequently learned upon his settling into the estates, was named Lucio – was welcomed by the staff with open arms. Had they not, all, landed in the homes of Alessandro and Nicoletta in similarly odd manner?<br><br>Such consideration was not for the moment, though, and Alessandro could see by her posture that perhaps the Dragon herself was not quite fully satisfied with his offer. That perhaps his transgression was not forgiven, not yet, for it was of a certainty against her and her alone that he had transgressed by risking his life.<br><br>He was not of a mind to be so foolish as to believe that his angel Serafina might feel the sting of his loss, should such have been the outcome of the morning. A loss of opportunity, perhaps, or of favored status, but there was likely no real connection with him in her mind. Not yet. Though he might indulge himself in a moment of fancy, thinking that perhaps in some small measure she might return the longing he felt for her, and the entirely possessive nature of his interest towards all things which come into her sphere of interest… no. Sadly no, there would not likely be deep affection.<br><br>Yet.<br><br>Love must mature over time, as wine does, for it to be properly heady and satisfying above all else. For it to be wildly intoxicating, and the balm to the soul which all men desire.<br><br>And yet… Nicoletta. Yes, it was against her that he had committed the offense of placing himself at unnecessary risk. It was to her that he must make amends, was it not?<br><br>Had the situation been reversed… had it been <em>she</em> that had done such a foolish thing by following her passion, Alessandro knew that he would be beyond angry. Would be livid, and with cause. He knew in his heart that it would take no small measure on her part to demonstrate her remorse, and to show that she understood what she had put him through.<br><br><strong>”Such an offering, however, is insufficient for the mistress of the house, is it not? Inadequate, in light of the transgression?”</strong> Gone from his voice were the signs of the wine, for sobering moments could do such a thing. <strong>”To you I owe an explanation, and you shall have it. To you I owe my love, and that you already have, in all ways. To you as well, dear Nicoletta my heart, I owe my gratitude – for your patience, and for your indulgence in my many wrongful ways and glaring faults.”</strong><br><br>That such confessions were made there, publically before the assembly of their house, guests, and staff, was most unusual. Men did not do such things, did they? Bare their soul so? Such heartfelt admonitions were reserved for private moments, or more likely simply never made, but Alessandro was not that kind of man.<br><br>He began to chuckle as he next spoke, though, and whether it was meant to break his moment of vulnerability or whether it was over what was to come? Such was difficult to determine.<br><br><strong>”To you I owe this as well: you shall not be so easily rid of me, that I might fall in some duel of honor. For you see, even at my own funeral do I reappear before you…”</strong><br><br>At that he began to move towards her, and in spite of his injury to climb the trellis to the half-balcony outside her chosen window.<br><br><strong>”… and like a ghost do I return to you, a phantom, for such is my love my darling one. A specter, even!”</strong><br><br>Reaching the balcony he hoisted himself up, and swept his darling Nicoletta into his one unstained and uninjured arm. Pulling her close, her soft and perfect body pressed to his hard and lean form, then did our hero lift her mask, and kiss her long and deeply to the cheering cries of those assembled.<br><br>It was only they - only his darling lady and her young ‘ward’ - that heard Alessandro softly whisper in a voice thick with emotion.<br><br><strong>”I <em>am</em> sorry.”</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>06-11-2017, 07:02:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Could Serafina have been more perfectly suited for her role in the evening? Nicoletta could not image such, if it did exist. The fair headed maiden was glorious, even in her masked state and her mannerisms, her nature endeared her to those close friends who had been invited in to participate in the game. It was a shame that Alessandro missed certain parts, but such was an additional fine for his behavior and Nicoletta was sure it was that fine which would pain and pang his heart when he was better suited to contemplate his misdeed. Serafina felt the adoration and happiness with her presence surely, by the way Nicoletta embraced her hand within her own as they awaited what would come from Alessandro, his Asp, and the gift he had surely brought home in some attempt to appease her.<br>&nbsp;<br>In truth, even the Dragon could be sated with such an offering of their home to one who needed it so. Even if the Dragon may gripe and grumble about such events for weeks indeed.<br>&nbsp;<br>Eyes, the color of the finest spring in record, glittered and gleamed with venomous poison as what they adored observing the most, chose to spread those arms, the retraction of the gesture with that expression painted upon handsome features, did little to soften the wrath that awaited expulsion from curved form. There was a strength in how her fingers tightened about Serafina's in those moments, when sharp teeth plucked at her own lower tier, forcing a swelling to the pillowy flesh that resembled a pout and brought color so crimson to enhance the curve of mouth. As if 'that' would silence the words that wished to burst forth like some ever-flowing miasmas, dark in ichor and consumption of the foolishness that had brought pain to body she adored more than her own. And for one as vain as Nicoletta, was that not a testament to her love?<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;The assembly rejoiced at the gift of the wine and the assertion that the boy would be kept by the House itself. Vittorio, in all his glory, managed to shoot a look upwards as if to try to find her, to mouth some set of words that would remain unknown even to her. The action caused her to turn her masked face and press kiss to Serafina's temple, using the golden curls as a buffer for her own smile of amusement. Perhaps that was the tell that Alessandro, even within his cups needed to be aware of which masked creature was of his own soul and kind. Still, she could not stop the sound of her laughter, low and sweet as it blessed those precious golden curls of the girl who had stolen some bit of her heart already, against her wishes, mind you.<br>&nbsp;<br>Alessandro's next words, oh they eradicated the softness of her laughter from the air, as she turned her head ever so slowly, eyes going wider framed by the mask worn as his voice took on sober tones and declarations were made in mixed company of cherished friends, but just friends none the less!&nbsp; The shake of her head had already started as if the slight gesture could stop him from the rarity of such being delivered in such company, as if the notion of confessions made public would but start tongues to wagging, breaking the careful masks worn within the light of day and not in the moonlights magical glow.&nbsp; Her slippered feet moved her only but a fraction forward as the chuckle given by him before the climb would indeed allow some saving grace to what had already been said.<br>&nbsp;<br>Up the trellis the wounded warrior in all his glory ascended and to the balcony where others parted, the game of it turned serious for the words being spoken. Something intimate within that exchange, the fact that he cared not who heard. Nicoletta was not within her own cups, the words were not merely spoke for herself, but for Serafina as well, he had brought the girl into their unit for purpose. What was fit for one, would one day as time progressed emotions be fit for both. The lift of her chin brought those eyes of hers to follow his motion as he slipped nearer to her, over the edge of balcony his appearance and subsequent sweeping of her curved form against his hard lines making it ever so hard to keep that serious expression upon her face.<br>&nbsp;<br>Oh, he did indeed sweep mask from her features and upon his wine stained lips a kiss so fierce was placed that it bordered upon its own violent battle indeed. Fierce it was, the use of teeth and tongue to take what was her own from him, as if to know his breath as it filled her lungs and the warmth of his mouth was to know it was not specter at all, but her Alessandro indeed. The crowd cheered and for but a moment her hand slipped from Serafina's. The purpose of the release became apparent when that hand slipped up to the line of his chest, hunting the wound for her own fingertips to probe harsh against it, sharp enough to make his "I <em>am</em> sorry" even thicker with emotion.<br>&nbsp;<br>It was Nicoletta's other hand that drifted upwards to let her nails curve into the hair at the nape of his neck, the tension there seen only by those cheering souls near enough as she hissed into the broken kiss and possibly pained expression upon those features of her Love.<strong> " It is possible I believe you, Alessandro. Perhaps an accounting is in order. Shall we say a mark in your ledger to be rubbed out when I commit a sin as grave?"</strong> the way her fingers played against the ruined fabric and the wound, her body pressed so tightly as she lowered her head to brush her lips against it, eyes turned upwards to play their own games as they locked with his. <em>"There is no where you will go that I will not follow."</em> It was not threat, it was promise meant for his ears. <em>"You would be a fool if you think something as simple as the afterlife would save you from me."</em><br>&nbsp;<br><strong>"But for reparation, I do think you owe our Angel a dance, for she has not all evening- beautiful mourner that she is.&nbsp; And if you are a specter, then we only until dawn to keep you. And if you are not, then perhaps dancing with her will remind you what folly it is to chase such adventures when Heaven is a member of your home. " </strong>The last of those words delivered to the grouping who cheered as the music was signaled for once more. "<strong>Let us eat and drink and be as merry as we can be at your most wondrous return."</strong> His wound could wait till after the dance, her heart ached to see Serafina rewarded with movements and nearness upon the marble floors alight with the moonlight and awashed with the sounds in Alessandro's arms and indeed it might be better medicine then another could provide her Love. <br>&nbsp;<br>Nicoletta reached out once more for Serafina’s warm fingertips, bringing them to Alessandro’s with her own touch, careful to not used the bloodied hand. The rub of that crimson upwards, to paint her own cheeks slightly with the color rubbed until it was not lewd or crude. The other bit of the sacrifice used to paint that lower lip of her, mixed him into the slight wound her teeth had made upon her lip. Sating something within as she cast that smile to those who had gathered, already reaching outwards to slide her arm within Madame De Soto’s, hand raising in gesture to mark their return to the festivities. Menfolk downstairs ready to dance and ladies ready to gossip about the adventure that surely had been had. A careful consideration to force the Asp to come forward to tell at least some version of the tale, for surely it would be wondrous enough to add to the legend that Alessandro and the Asp were becoming –not merely within their own minds.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-11-2017, 16:59:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oh what a thing to observe, a man so certain of his place and power set upon his heels in revelation of what his lover had woven together in gentle rebuke for his reckless action. Serafina found her lips curving into a smile of mirth, her eyes sparkling even as the young lad found upon a street corner no doubt and roped into this facade by promise of coin translated that an offering must be given up to join the fete. His handsome features were painted with pain when he stretched his arm too far and she found herself glad that Nicoletta had already sent for a doctor to attend him later. She felt the tightening of her mentor's hand about her own and squeezed in reply, attempting to impart some measure of comfort as she lingered near enough that their shoulders brushed. <br><br>Perhaps this then was the folly of men, to be so certain of their course and not think of the impact it made upon the hearts of those who cared for them. Yet Alessandro faced the due for his misconduct without flinching, nor resorting to fury and rebuke that kept many a woman in Venice silent, too afraid to call their menfolk to accounting. Was this then too, part of the freedom that he offered? <br><br>Upon his offering up the boy she noted the look of alarm on the said young ones features, and how the Asp so readily interceded with his Master to correct course. Wine was offered instead, and in truth they likely needed little of it but the blond remained curious, watching the by play between the three males who stood in the courtyard and cast their glances upward toward the balcony. So the boy was not a token to be bartered, yet he would be kept, offered a place in the estate that the lad eagerly accepted. What might have been a tragedy had turned into happy circumstance for one likely worse off than she herself when she had been taken into their keeping. A collecting of lost souls, perhaps that was what Alessandro and Nicoletta did in their staff selections. <br><br>Oh so many questions she had, not just for the woman who was her mentor but also for the house keeper and cook and all those who supported the grand estate, and most assuredly for Alessandro himself. It seemed the Lady in question was pleased with the gift, though she distracted Serafina by the kiss of her lips to her temple, by the laughter that spilled out warm against her skin and made her heart skip a beat. <br><br>As if thinking of him had summoned his attention she felt his eyes upon her then, her blue eyes meeting his bold gaze with a flush of color that came to her cheeks. Softly a smile curved on her lips as she inclined her head to confirm that she was the very same maiden he had taken on this very morning. That his attention moved back to his partner in all things was only expected, and she herself was content enough to be merely an observer in this moment. <br><br>Alessandro's features, bathed in the silver light of the moon, sobered as did his voice as&nbsp; he laid himself bare in a manner she would have never imagined and she found herself more than a little in love with the notion of such a man. A man who would proclaim his love so boldly, who would fear no ridicule or remarks of being too soft, yet rather concerned himself with the state of the heart of his beloved. It surprised her not that Nicoletta was able to inspire such devotion in any man, though he truly seemed to be one of kind the longer she was in his presence. As laughter parted his lips Serafina questioned if there was a finer man in all of Venice, or even the world, who would do as he was doing. For Alessandro she did not have the smitten adoration that Nicoletta prompted, he was not one whom she had esteemed beyond all others, yearned to follow in the footsteps of; yet she felt something weighing upon her, unfurling within her as he moved to the trellis and began to scale it like a Prince out of a story might to claim his princess. <br><br>Concern pinched her features as she watched him move, for his arm had been injured, yet he made the balcony in good time, sweeping his darling into his arms before lifting her mask. Unbidden a soft sigh of romantic delight parted the young blond's lips, her eyes shimmering with the magic of what she observed, standing a little apart from both them and the others, near enough to catch the faintest hint of his apology. Nicoletta still held her hand, their fingers entwined until it parted and she stepped further back, wishing to give them privacy out of respect. What struck the young woman deepest though was the fierce passion of their kiss, one that was utterly unlike the slim moments of affection she had witnessed between her own parents and those of her class, as if passion here were a strength rather than something to be reviled and she wondered if perhaps one day she might know such desire, such love to lost herself so completely in a touch. <br><br>The words that came next to her Lady's lips she did not catch, her eyes downcast in modesty only to raise in round surprise at the mention of a dance with the man who was now master of her fate. Alessandro was Nicoletta's dearest of her heart, why then would she push him into the arms of another woman? A flush swept her cheeks at the thought that she might be enough to bind a man to this world. Soft lips parted to decline, to insist that the two of them dance instead yet Nicoletta's hand pulled her forward, settling her delicate hands within Alessandro's hold. <strong>"Please, my Lady, I would not ask for such a thing when he is so newly returned to you."</strong> Her voice was soft, meant only for the two who had changed her life so drastically, though she realized what she had spoken might make Alessandro doubt her affection. <br><br>An earnest glance was then directed at him, a shy smile on her lips as her eyes shone luminously behind the midnight black of the mask that hid her features so that she remained a cherished secret by he and Nicoletta.<strong> "It is not that I would not be overjoyed to dance within your arms, my Lord, merely that I would not usurp the position of your beloved and give myself undo importance."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>15-11-2017, 05:42:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The notion was at once both amusing, how much the perfect Serafina had to learn about him, and dizzying in its endearingly concerned sentiments.<br><br><strong><em>”Undue importance?”</em></strong> Alessandro smiled warmly, his gaze upon the eyes of the Angel behind her mask, and his voice had the warmth and heat of the finest brandy as it worked its path into one’s soul. He inclined his head politely, as decorum dictated, to the vision of perfection before him as her hand was placed into his own. With raw love in his eyes he then did the same to his heart, in thanks that she had bestowed such a thing upon him. <br><br>Never had the Dragon, his awe-inspiring love, been more beautiful. And never, in his recollection, had she been more divinely, lovingly wicked. He was proud of her in this, such a cleverly wrought expression of all that was within her mind. It was artfully done, and beautifully complex. <br><br>Nicoletta’s insistence that he and Serafina dance matched in all ways their relationship, and the inclusion of the Angel at his insistence into their world. Nearly did he gasp at Nicoletta’s brilliance, and her grace. At the lovingly cruel and playful punishment that also served as his notice of parole for his crime, and it was a message that so dearly treasured, for all that is conveyed.<br><br>Alessandro leaned close to her, there to whisper softly into her ear. What he had to say was not for the assembled guests, and Nicoletta hardly needed to hear his words to know what he was telling Fina.<br><br><strong>”I am afraid that at that, my darling Serafina, you are rather late to the ball. As my beloved Nicoletta is so well aware, I have already done such a thing of my own accord on your behalf – ascribed to you an importance that stands nigh alongside even her own. This dance is, you see, her expression of forgiveness – she bestows upon me a gift which I dearly desire - and yet it is also my well-deserved punishment.”</strong><br><br>Alessandro smiled as he stood straight again, looking to the gathering of their friends around them, and knew that Nicoletta’s smile was well deserved. He looked to her and nodded his submission, and he could almost hear her sweet and triumphant voice purring in his ears.<br><br><strong><em>”Dance, my darling Ales… Dance, and hold her, but </em>only<em> dance, in front of all those gathered. Dance, and know that you are forgiven for defending one of our own – but know that you shall never do so again, lest your punishment be far worse than having to hold her in your arms and behave.”</em></strong><br><br>Clever, dear and beloved, rotten Nicoletta. He was proud of her, and there was no other word for it. It was brilliant.<br><br>But he was, still, the scoundrel Alessandro, and therefore there were still corners of his mind that would not fail to rise to a challenge. It would disappoint her, his Nicoletta, should he fail to do so; only if his injuries were dire indeed would such a thing happen, and he did not wish to alarm her without due cause.<br><br>Turning to the musicians he bowed, and smiled.<br><br><strong>”La volta, per favore, and perhaps a slow one at that.”</strong> At that he inclined his head to his wounded shoulder, as if by pointing out his injury he might justify his request to make the most risqué of dances even more intimate.<br><br>With a grin he leaned to Serafina’s ear once more, and whispered softly. <strong>”Now, beloved Angel, now shall we show her why I knew you belonged with us. Your first time in my arms will not, it seems, be as I imagined it would be… but still will there be passion, yours <em>and</em> mine. Still will there be love, and beauty. Still will we show her that her acceptance was warranted, for we must now demonstrate that your star shines brightly enough to grace the night skies beside her own.”</strong><br><br>Tenderly then, hidden by the scented halo of her soft blonde hair, Alessandro kissed the delicate curve of her ear. Lightly did he curl the tip of his tongue slowly up its sublime shape, only to deliver one more soft kiss at the top of her ear.<br><br><strong>”Dance with me, and win her heart and mine.”</strong><br><br>As if nothing had transpired between them he stood, he settled into his stance, and with his nod of approval the musicians began to play.<br><br>Of a certainty, la volta begins innocently enough, with all the stepping and prancing which the otherwise staid court dances require. But then… then, unrelenting, the dance takes on a positively <em>intimate</em> turn. <br><br>There was a reason that la volta was not played at ‘proper’ estates, with respectable company gathered. Even here in Venice, there were limits to what polite society might be expected to witness.<br><br>The hands of the dancers are frequently clasped lightly but only briefly as the dance progresses, as if more than scant moments of such touching at any one time might lead to an inability to release one’s partner – a surrender, unavoidable, and irrevocable. Temptation, and flirtation, to music.<br><br>But then… then la volta shows that abandon has a face, and it calls for the male to lift his partner, spinning her in a twist, as if to mimic other occasions when a man might cause a lady’s head to spin, and her to clasp to him for support or in affirmation of his attentions. Thighs brush, in la volta as they do upon such other occasions, and in both cases the woman is powerless but to ride upon the wave her adoring partner places her so recklessly upon - to see it to conclusion, with her swept giddily away, to both of their delight.<br><br>As Serafina’s delicate hand settled into his while they danced, Alessandro understood that perhaps all the worry over the dance was correct. It <em>was</em> intoxicating. And it <em>was</em>, in all possible ways, a seduction, and a promise of that which was to come.<br><br>No pain came from his shoulder, for there was nothing in that moment but his Serafina and their dance, the treasured gift and proper penance from the woman he loved.<br><br>Now there was only proclaiming to Serafina that the idea of ‘undue importance’ was an impossibility, and that her place was now and always with he and Nicoletta, and none other.<br><br>Now was the moment to also show his Nicoletta, though, that his heart was indeed large enough… large enough to love her with the unbridled and unwavering passion which she had always incited within him, and yet also with the capacity to add another to their fold, and be grateful for her understanding and love for the Angel as well.<br><br>But most of all… most of all the dance was the time to declare that Alessandro had lived, and had learned his lesson. He suspected that his reward and punishment were designed to accomplish exactly that: to remind him of all that he had to live for, and to convince him of the folly of risking what he had.<br><br>Alessandro expressed his understanding of that lesson in every nuance of the dance, every lingering touch and tender embrace, and he laughed with joy as he lifted and spun his Angel. As he did so he looked to his love where she watched them, and thanked her with a gaze that conveyed more than his words might ever have done.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>27-11-2017, 01:46:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Oh, she was rotten indeed, there was no pretense that she was not, nor did she give the pretense that such rottenness was not directly to be attributed to the one who held her Heart. Nicoletta had risen upon the expectations society itself, the church itself, the world itself might have attempted to yoke her into. She did not attribute the wickedness of her wit to Aless, nor the gracefulness that always accompanied her will made reality, when it came to such reminders of their equality even its differences, as striking as they were. But her rottenness? That was because of his encouragement and allowance of the behavior, nae, even the indulgence of it.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She had placed their hands in one another and slipped her arm within Madame De Soto's even as commands and procession order were given back down to the main floor. Serafina's words, she need not answer them nor chide her for assuming to know what should be done, knowing well enough that Aless would with the eloquence that his rank and right afforded him, explain without chastising. That was one of his finer gifts, that he could talk a soul into almost anything and leave them convinced it was of their own free will they did such. The man was positively silver tongued and blessed with a forked appendage that would be more suited to an incubus in truth. It was also no surprise to her to see the vivid blue pools of their Angel, light as they did when she gazed upon him.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And so, as they all took their places about the dance floor and servants once more provided those trays of wine and food to be feasted upon and once more conversations started up in lively order underneath the beautiful melodies that ignited the air?&nbsp; Those verdant pools of hers stole glances at what would be surely be remembered as legends and lore are, when it was repeated to those not in attendance. Madame De Soto leaned in, the way age husked voice found itself in Nicoletta's ear, made the woman curve one side of her mouth upwards into that enchanting smile.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong> " Nicoletta, you know when you give that look, it is impossible to know if you are amused or perhaps deep within plot, or both. Are you not concerned at all...?”</strong> It was genuine worry that brought the older woman to speak as such to the courtesan, just as it was curiosity and interest in the intrigue that had made the older woman accept the invitation she had been extended this evening.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Nicoletta shook her head, her own mask lifted to rest upon the top of her head like some crown, the cascade of those curls of hers bathing one side of her face and shoulder in their fashionable arrangement. Emeralds sparkled in the moonlight, transfixed upon Alessandro and Serafina as indeed, she needed not to hear the words whispered, or his request for the music for their dance. No, she needed to hear such no more than Alessandro needed to hear the words he knew she would speak to him. She already knew what they were and what it would be.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong> "Why should I be concerned, Madame? Do you love one child more than the other? Or is such equal but different? Should you be blessed with another, would you find the one in cradle more worthy of your love then the one who clings to your skirt? How is love between adults any different in the having of it? " </strong>Nicoletta's voice answered even as her arm within the older woman’s tightened affectionately, not one stray tone from her mouth sounding sharp or bitter. But there, as she drew in breath and the la volta began, well, there was a hint of worry that came across her features.<br>&nbsp;<strong><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; "You should be more mindful of what is transpiring before you-- fashion is what the fashionable does and if it becomes fashion because Alessandro has done such and I have welcomed such, it certainly will be mimicked. I would hate for you to gossip incorrectly at the Bishops table about what you saw here tonight."</strong>&nbsp; Her words held no malice as she turned to face the older woman, free hand reaching to pluck two goblets from a servant’s tray, one handed to her friend as the other was brought to her lips, the draught sweet to her mouth. Oh, how she savored that cool drink, as her eyes watched the two dancing upon the floor.&nbsp; It was not lost upon her that it seemed the lesson she was teaching was being well learned and committed to his memory indeed. His every motion, his every expression, announced his understanding as that adoration and affection glew radiant from his features for all to see. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; "<strong>Just as I would hate for you to recount the story incorrectly at court - for such would be a folly to have had a chance to witness what will be bit of our lore one day and not have seen it for what it was. As magical and impractical as anything worth doing, or indulgence of any passion worth the sin."</strong> Green eyes sparkled as she gave a wink to the older woman, who merely stood with her mouth parted as if a fish out of water, sucking a bit of air in as she to watch the dancers.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Only after a few moments had passed did Madame De Soto speak again.<strong> "Surely, you do not think it will become fashionable. For them to have their women is tolerable, Letta, but to parade them... that is a matter that... Guis would never ...he."</strong><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; There, there it was- the flash of those soot rimmed eyes as she turned them to the older woman, the raise of brow that signaled the older woman was upon shaky earth and to tread with care. <strong>"I do not care what becomes fashionable and what does not, Madame. I only care what brings happiness to me and mine. But I would dare venture to say that Guis would, if he thought for but a moment you would not devour whoever he brought to you in a fit of rage. "</strong> The image made Nicoletta laugh, her head shaking as she finished off her glass.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Madame snorted as she shook her head, quieting herself as her young lover drew closer to the two women. Nicoletta would not deny that the Madame had beautiful taste, the young man was indeed quite a figure- dashing and full of vitality, something Guis was not. <strong> "Besides, it isn't as if Guis does not understand your 'arrangements'." </strong>She offered that comfort as the older woman inclined her head to the man who was making his way to the shadows of the garden for a tryst with his lover. <br><br>A lover that Nicoletta would be taking a percentage of what he was 'gifted' this evening for from in the morning.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then again, she would be taking a percentage of the gift given to the girl she had chosen for Guis to be entertained by too. Work was never really done for Nicoletta, but keeping those two more then content paved the way to plans and aspirations she had in the works, for with their pleasure came a direct line to those who moved in circles of influence she could not. At least, she could not -yet-.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong> "Go, I will make sure your excuses should your absence be noted."</strong> It was an offering extended, as if a gracious action of forgiveness for words that may have slighted. And so, the smile Madame gave her was one of gratitude, as she slipped from Nicoletta's side to make her way without being noticed, something harder for the Madame to do, considering everyone gathered 'knew' she would be doing just that at some point during the evening.<br>&nbsp;<br>Nicoletta allowed her gaze to follow those two out, before it returned to the those she considered her Own dancing upon the floor in those ways that spoke of seduction and adoration in a most decadent way. Her glass was taken by leather clad fingers only to be replaced by a fuller one as her Darling, her beautiful toy, leaned to whisper within her ear. Oh, her hand rose just to caress the far side of his cheek in such a adoring way, indeed this male one of the only any could recant or recall her allowing to touch her, since she had made choice those fateful years before to take Alessandro’s offer. But the reason why he was allowed and not others was one that was gossiped about until the ‘tale’ was so far from the truth it was amusing to add to it.<br><br>A&nbsp; slip of honey spiced laughter exited those full lips of hers as she nodded head to what was being told to her. And after that sound was the rise of her to tip toes to whisper within the line of his ear, instructions for the room that should be prepared and for who should be waiting to lead Aless and Serafina to the place where physician would be. Her own presence would not be required, after all, someone had to tend to the guests.<strong> “Hurry back after you instruct her where he is to go, I wish to dance and not with the Count who is eyeing the situation as a vulture eyes carrion.” </strong>the ‘her’ she was speaking of, the maid who would guide the two dancers to awaiting attention as the dance floor opened back to guests once more until their return. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>30-11-2017, 16:11:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				More than slightly flustered by so warm a smile, so rich a tone of voice, Serafina felt her cheeks sweep with the pink of a blush even as she gave a nod to the words echoed upon her Lord's lips. She was so newly brought among them, and in her mind none save Nicoletta herself should dance within his arms. Though that was likely a very unusual notion, seeing how Alessandro was known through out the city as one of the most infamous lovers of women. A glance went then to her Lady, searching in those lovely eyes for guidance but she saw only what her mentor had spoken and she was not intending to defy, no, never that. And so when he leaned in she found her heart racing, her cheeks brightly colored and pulse beating too swiftly in the hollow of her throat as his voice washed over her senses. <br><br><strong>"Please, my Lord, I... I know not what to say."</strong> Gentle as the blond's voice was in that moment her voice also plead for understanding of their most unusual of relationships. She had sought them out only to find the freedom accorded to women who sold their bodies for power, not simply money; instead she had the promise of something far more treasured unfolding before her and the young woman found herself uncertain. Yet too she wondered how then a dance with her might be a punishment; did her Lady believe her ill of form? <br><br>The volta.<br><br>His request as he conducted her within the villa once more had her blush anew, grateful that perhaps her mask hid some bit of that color as they moved onto the shinning marble of the ballroom floor. It lay upon the tip of her tongue to protest the notion of such a risque dance, indeed one she had only previously seen done and mimicked in private, never performed with a partner. Alessandro seemed to know which words to utter though to still her protest, to tempt her into such a dance. A glance went then anew to Nicoletta, for the other woman she would gladly do anything asked of her. The man who held her revealed what his punishment was, to hold her but not with the same intimacy he had first envisioned, rather that which would skirt the bounds of propriety but not leave them entwined with one another. <br><br>Oh how fast her heart beat then, realizing that he meant to bring to the surface all the passion that lay within her heart and before the throng of their dear friends who already murmured of who the mysterious woman in black, standing out among the white robed others, was. <strong>"Besides, but never surpassing."</strong> It was important for her to speak those words, for she would shine beside Nicoletta, yet it was not in Serafina's heart to attempt to surpass or diminish the glory that was the lovely courtesan. Again her Lord made her breath catch as his lips caressed softly the curve of her ear, and the tease of his tongue along it's shape made her shiver against him, long lashes lowering as she felt that first swell of desire as her body replied to him in ways yet foreign to her for no young man she had flirted with had ever been so bold. <br><br>Powerless to resist the lure of all that he was, and the promise that lay in his voice, his eyes, she gave an incline of her head to acquiesce to his request of dancing in his arms, one wounded though it was. Upon her surrender he motioned the musicians, the song struck up and the young woman found herself focusing fiercely upon the steps, not wishing to disappoint either of the two who had chosen her for their own. Each step made her skirts rustle about her, her heart beat filling her ears as readily as the swell of music from the instruments until it shifted, until his hands were upon her waist, lifting her skyward as if he might launch her into the very air to fly as the angel he named her. <br><br>Yet his hands were strong and possessive, making it clear he never meant to send her from him. She moved with him, instinct providing what skill could not as passion rose within her, glimmering in her summer sky eyes even as he set her down, their thighs brushing together through clothing, and yet again they moved, closer wound together than ever. Her eyes sought his and found herself unable to look away. Her awareness of the others present faded until there was only he who held her ,lifted her, and she who had bade them perform for her pleasure. <br><br>The song, and it's magic, could not last forever, for it as all things do must come to an end. When it did a handsome young man of dark skin and brilliant eyes approached them, beckoning them to follow to where the doctor would attend Alessandro. Serafina sought out Nicoletta, only moving with her Lord and the servant once a slight nod of the head was given, her cheeks flushed now from the exertion of the dance, from the race of desire the man had fueled within her. As they made their way to a parlor she focused on the attempt to resettle herself, to soften the bright flame that now burned within her. Concern for his shoulders returned, particularly that he had lifted her so many times upon an arm wounded that very afternoon. <strong>"Your shoulder, did you strain it over much?"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>08-12-2017, 06:18:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In a haze of her… of her scent, and the feel of her in his arms, the delicate tones of her voice, and that dazzlingly sweet and tender smile… in such a state did Alessandro follow blissfully along behind the young man that led them from the dance floor. It took him a moment to read Nicoletta’s intentions for them, and when he did he nearly gasped. <br><br>He was to be tended to, it seemed, and his Heart had seen fit that it would be Serafina who would stand with him. <br><br>The gift of such a thing nearly brought him low, for it was a kindness he was not expecting. Had he not alarmed her? Caused her concern? And yet even then, his beloved sent the Angel to stand with him. There was a beauty in such a gesture on Nicoletta’s part, and he was grateful beyond words. <br><br>Was there not an inescapable intimacy in such a moment, the lovely girl holding his hand as he was tended to? Being present as he was treated, as only someone close to him might be? A loved one, and one who might also hold him dear?<br><br>The magnanimity of the gesture on Nicoletta’s part reached the very core of the jaded Alessandro, and his mouth went suddenly dry as he realized that her greatness extended to all things. His Heart was simply impossibly good to him, and he so very clearly did not deserve her. She approved, and indulged. She supported and encouraged, challenged and inspired. In all ways, she loved.<br><br>She approved, and now they were three. Only such a creature as Nicoletta could countenance such a thing, and had in her heart the ability to embrace it not as some aberration of their relationship, but rather to see it as them growing – as there simply being <em>more</em>.&nbsp; <br><br>It was puzzling, though, that Serafina asked about his shoulder as they walked. Whatever would she ask that for, when it was his heart that was at risk? When it was the very pulse within him that threatened to overwhelm his senses and leave him gasping in awe and want of the perfection that was his Angel?<br><br>Only upon consideration did the question make sense, and then such an idea brought not worry, but an amused smile. Seeing the door they were being led to, Alessandro motioned their guide off, and stopped in the hallway for a moment of conversation with the vision of beauty upon his arm.<br><br><strong>”My dear and darling Serafina, your question delights me of course, for such a thing is clearly asked of concern and affection – both of which, received from you, are as gifts to my very soul. But no, my Angel, my shoulder is of no import. Only the heady realization that we have danced, you and I, is of significance. Only that we have held each other in embrace, and this is exquisite and vital to me, of an importance to me that I cannot help but cherish it.”</strong><br><br>He kissed her forehead then, and if it seemed as if he trembled at the contact of his lips upon her smooth and perfect skin, well perhaps he did. Perhaps even the consummate rogue that was Alessandro could recognize that in some moments one <em>should</em> by humbled by the good fortune the gods have set before us.<br><br><strong>”We have danced, you and I. We have held each other. We have <em>begun</em>.”</strong><br><br>He caressed her cheek with his thumb, then scowled playfully and removed first her mask and then his own. Discarding them upon a nearby chair, he smiled gently at her and met her gaze.<br><br><strong>”No masks. Not for us, and not now, for we truly have begun. I am afraid that there might be no mask in the world which could conceal that which you likely already know. You must know this thing, do you not? That I am already lost in you? That my love for Nicoletta will never fade, not by any measure, and yet I cannot help but feel such things towards you as well?”</strong><br><br>Without hesitation he took her into his arms, and his face unashamedly reflected the nearly reverent delight he experienced at the contact with her delicate form.<br><br><strong>”Call me greedy if you must, Serafina! Call me covetous, and I shall not raise a word in my own defense. I am these things and more. But know that you have a place – a treasured and beloved place here with Letta and I, and one uniquely your own. I cannot bear the thought of any other such an arrangement for you, nor the thought that you should ever engage in the trade which brought you to us. You are home, Fina, and the very <em>world</em> shall be yours.”</strong><br><br>With a frown and a sigh he looked to the nearby door, behind which he knew waited the physician with his tools of the trade. <br><br><strong>”If we don’t go in, they’ll only come looking for us. I suppose it’s best to simply have it over with. But first…”</strong><br><br>Alessandro pulled her even closer, and bent his lips to lightly brush against hers. He did not kiss her, not yet, but when he spoke his soft lips feathered against her own.<br><br><strong>”Our physician is both talented and skilled, but there is <em>nothing</em> that would better convince my soul to continue living than this.”</strong><br><br>Tenderly at first he kissed her, and his soft gasp at the touch of her lips to his was not feigned. At first he merely expressed his <em>need</em> for her through the embrace, his desperate and consuming need to feel her in his arms. It was only as the kiss drew longer that she might come to understand that such a powerful need was nothing, not a whit, compared to what he <em>felt</em>.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-12-2017, 18:12:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Having always known what path she wished to be set upon Serafina had flirted with many a young man, and even those older, who had crossed her path where and when she could. There was no denying the girl enjoyed the heady rush of having a man enamoured with her charms. Yet the way Alessandro gazed at her was something wholly new, and it flustered her into a shy smile, color tinting her cheeks behind the safety of her ebon mask. <br><br>A part of her longed to retreat, to find firmer ground that she might understand better what she faced. Surely it was Nicoletta who should be at his side now, not she, so newly come to their home, and only as a student. Surprise widened her lovely eyes as his free hand, the one not held in her own, waved off the handsome servant and left them to the fragile privacy of the cooridor bereft of others, just for the moment surely. Oh whatever skills the blond might have believed herself of having in dissembling were quickly proved inadequate for her Master could tell her concern and shy affection, both things not ones she would desire readily apparent. <br><br>He spoke as if their dance were poetry, were intimacy far greater than she had supposed and she found herself near overwhelmed that so infamous and admired a man in turn regarded her so highly. Serafina had felt pleasure in his arms, felt the racing of her heart, the aching awareness of his seduction that proved her prior flirtations had been weak, flimsy things. <br><br>Closer he drew her by his hand in hers, his sensual lips pressed to her forehead and the heat of that light touch had her shiver against him. Expressive blue eyes rose to meet his bold gaze, desire, nerves and pleading wound together even as her heart raced so swift she thought she might burst as his husky voice caressed not just her hearing but also her emotions, opening her to him. What had they begun? That query lay upon her lips, but he touched her and it fled, fled for the sensation of his calloused thumb gently exploring the curve of her cheek. At his touch all save awareness for him seemed to vanish, her lips parting in a breathless little gasp for air even as her breasts strained at the bodice of her gown with how swift she breathed as he discarded her mask to reveal her fully to him, flushed cheeks, parted lips, wide, glowing eyes. <br><br><strong>"I do not understand..."</strong> so soft she spoke, the words trembling for she had never thought he might see her as more than another to work for him, another to add to his infamy. She had sought him out to change her life, yet he had altered even that beyond what she could have expected. How could he feel so powerfully to her after such scant interaction? Was it simply her body that he lusted for, or did those too knowing eyes pierce through all that she was and read clearly her soul? <br><br>She had not sought love, yet he offered it so freely. <br><br>Perhaps that was why she was pliant when Alessandro gathered her into his arms, perhaps that was why an artless sound of confused need parted her lips; her youthful form still heated from the sensual tease of their dance. Shock painted her features when he revealed no intent to have her serve as a courtesan, but rather to remain within the house as part of him and her idol. How then would this be different from the very cage she sought to avoid in her offering to serve him; though Nicoletta had advised her of how all women, even she, still bore cages. Confused, the young beauty offered no words, simply softened into the man who held her tenderly, as if to search out physical comfort while her mind and heart reeled in tumult. <br><br>Alessandro's lips sought her own, drawing her back to the present, to the awareness of the man who so overwhelmed and enchanted her. Oh what lovely compliment he paid, to state her a reason to remain among the living even as his lips slanted over her own. In reply she quivered, gasping for his kiss was unlike any of the stolen ones she had known. Almost she could taste his hunger, his intent, her artless sounds of surprise and want providing him entry into her mouth so that his tongue could explore her even as his strong, large hands held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Her own hands clutched at his shoulders, forgetting in that moment of his injury as the world spun away and he taught her the first true taste of burning hot desire. This was no artifice, not done for power or money, simply an expression of the shimmering heat that lay between them and oh it made her feel as if she could soar. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>17-12-2017, 19:22:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The embrace was returned, and Alessandro was not so new to the delights of womankind that he could not recognize in her demeanor a growing desire for him. As such a thought blossomed in his grateful mind, he was forced to consciously remember to breathe, and he did so at last with a gasp.<br><br><strong>”Such a treasure, and a delight, you are. Such perfection.”</strong> He smiled then, and there was a blend of desire and reverence in his eyes. <strong>”Pray, lead me to the physician, before I want nothing more but to spend the next several hours here with you in this very corridor.”</strong><br><br>Her blush at such a suggestion, and what it implied? <br><br>Alessandro had seen art, for he was a creature of Venice. He had seen the great works of the day, even, for what gathering of society could resist asking for his and Nicoletta’s presence? But in his arms, in that candlelit hallway, only then did his understanding of the word ‘beauty’ become complete. He had known dazzling beauty, in the perfection and manner of Nicoletta, and now in counterpart did he know it in the achingly compelling softness of his Serafina. <br><br>She turned to lead him to the appointed door and he stepped behind her, wrapping his left arm around the flat of her stomach and pulling her close as his mouth affixed itself to the right side of her neck. His kiss upon its slender form and perfumed skin was greedy and nearly desperate for her, and even as he kissed his way upwards towards her ear did he whisper to her.<br><br><strong>”One kiss more, or a hundred perhaps. One embrace more, that you know my words to be true and understand most fully that your Alessandro is indeed dizzy with you.”</strong> Nibbling at her ear lobe as he pulled her back to his chest, he reached around her with his free hand to cup her breast, and his gasp of need caused his voice to tremble as he spoke.<br><br><strong>”We shall not be anything other than what we are, us three. I would not disgrace us with less. Let the world burn, and still we three shall walk hand in hand through the remains.”</strong> Only after several moments, when it felt she might be tottering at the unfamiliar sensations, did her release his grasp of her to step beside her and take her hand. It was desperately, painfully beautiful, that look of wonder he thought he saw in her eyes, and Aleassandro knew himself complete.<br><br>In a hurry to be through with the bother of it, he led them into the room and to the appointment, and as he believed the wound was painful and bothersome but not terribly significant. He was certain that the physician spoke to him as he worked, likely chastising him for the risks he took and offering helpful advice on how to care for his shoulder, but Alessandro was not at all invested in the man’s words.<br><br>Fina held his hand as he was tended to, and Alessandro was given reason and pause to spend the better part of an hour studying the softness of her fingers, and the way her skin seemed to pure and soft within his own. Gazing into her eyes and smiling, he had all the time he needed to memorize the curve of her lips, and the way the soft honey of her hair framed her delicate features. The arch of her eyebrows, where they so artfully framed her pools of her eyes.<br><br>His chest thudded then, ached for her, and he knew that he could not have been more pleased in that moment, even as the physician tugged his wound closed.<br><br><strong>”You are finished, m’lord, and my final advice is that…”</strong><br><br><strong>”A bath. Yes, a bath, my good sir. We shall see to that straight away, and I thank you for your wise counsel.”</strong> Alessandro gave a meaningful look to the physician, both daring him to refute his own course of treatment and dismissing the man from their presence.<br><br><strong>”I… Yes, good sir, I believe that this would be most beneficial. You are wise, of course, sir.”</strong><br><br>Alessandro nodded distractedly, pressing coins into the man’s hands and thanking him for his service. That his eyes never left Fina’s face, burning with need and desire even as the doctor left the room, was perhaps the best testament to the patient’s state of recovery.<br><br>Stepping from the room, Alessandro gave short instructions to the tall man that had led them to the doctor, and presently the man sprinted off to make preparations. <br><br>He could feel it from her almost palpably, Fina’s bewildered and blushing reaction as he guided her by the arm, and such a thing made him grin all the more. Wordlessly he led her, ignoring those they passed as they wound their way through the house, until at last they came to a heavy door. With a smile he swung the door wide, revealing a luxurious bath suite in gleaming marble. Lushly appointed, the warm air of the room was heavy with floral and citrus perfume, and the young woman awaiting them held thick towels in her arms. <br><br>Nodding in greeting as Alessandro led Fina into the room, the attendant was just beginning to kneel to assist Fina in removing her slippers when Alessandro spoke, his voice low and thick.<br><br><strong>”You may leave us, Josienne. We shall manage undressing and bathing on our own tonight. And we are not to be disturbed.”</strong><br><br>If the girl was surprised at such a suggestion, it did not reflect upon her young face, and she merely nodded and smiled. <br><br><strong>”Of course, m’lord, as you wish. Wine and refreshments arrived moments ago.”</strong><br><br>Josienne trailed her hand through the pool of the bath before leaving, as if to confirm one last time that the water was sufficiently warm, and then smiled and left. Though perhaps a dozen might comfortably bathe in such a pool, tonight its comforts and temptations were meant for only two.<br><br>It was so quiet then, in the room with its couches and perfumed air. Still, as if the room itself understood the significance of what was to follow, and was honored to be a part of something so special. <br><br>Alessandro regarded her for a long time, looking into her eyes, and tenderly he touched her hair. Only then did he slowly kneel, to remove her slipper as the attendant had intended, and he looked up into her eyes as he did so and smiled.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>06-01-2018, 20:36:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Treasure, he called her, as if she were a priceless gift to him rather than simply another young woman striving to change the fate laid before her by society. And almost she believed it, though Serafina had long held a skeptical view of the notion of love. Love was the beguiling myth given to young women to make them docile about the fact of marriage being expected, it was as much a cage as duty and yet she thought she might feel something toward him, toward Nicoletta. Neither of which were expected. So it was with bewildered sapphire eyes that she gave a nod at the command to lead him on and drew him after her to the parlor where the physician awaited them. <br><br>As she did so though the blond wondered just what she would do to see anew that look in his eyes; possessive heat, obsessive adoration, intimate knowledge and dark promise. Gently her tongue touched against the swollen flesh of her lower lip, the memory of his kiss a phantom she could not dismiss, nor did she truly want to. Alessandro caught her off guard though, his good arm catching her back into the line of his body with the firm line of his figure providing support as his mouth set upon her neck. <strong>"Alessandro....oh..."</strong><br><br>A moan slipped past her lips as she shivered, whimpering in reply to the hunger that lay in even that small touch. Her Lord's hot mouth traversed the satin flesh of her neck, up to her ear where his breath fanned out against her skin. Almost his words seemed like poetry, and she had to wonder what it would mean to become truly dizzy, undone by him. The gentlest tease of his teeth against her earlobe made her breath rush out only to be sucked back in abruptly when his hand reached for her breast and cupped her boldly, firmly enough that beneath the material of her garments her nipple hardened in reply and between her thighs she felt heat blossom, her knees trembling as the young woman strove to hold herself upright. <br><br><em>Three</em>. Yes, for whatever lay between them Nicoletta, her lady, her muse, she was also an intricate part of this. <strong>"My Lord, I... am overcome, I have no words to match your own."</strong> Naked honesty mingled with raw desire rendered her voice husky in a manner only a lover should hear, not that she had become his lover. Not yet. But she sensed the promise that lay between them the moment their eyes met as his fingers entwined with her own, as she saw the near painful edge of want that lay within her mirrored in his gaze. A soft, uncertain smile curved one side of her lips, her head inclining in confirmation of her want before they entered the chamber where the physician was prepared to tend him. <br><br>Serafina paid close attention to the instructions of how best to tend the wound, how to cleanse it, bandage it, though her hand remained within Alessandro's grasp and the gentle caress of his fingers against her skin distracted her more than a few passing times. Frequently he would catch her eye, giving her a look, a grin or a touch that prompted a new rush of pink to tint her fair cheeks, her lips twitching with barely suppressed smiles. <br><br>When her Lord interrupted the doctor's final advice the young woman hardly bit back her laugh, pursing her lips in the struggle to swallow her mirth down. The laughter was gone the moment Alessandro returned his attention to her, breath catching at the look in his eyes. It was difficult to think of laughing when a man looked at her as if she were Venus herself come to life before him. On his arm once more she followed him from the room, not sure if she should pose her questions and down casting her eyes whenever they passed the servants, almost bashful of his intent. He meant to take her, to claim her. She had thought he would wait, he would train her further in the arts of seduction, had thought Nicoletta would be there...<br><br>Upon stepping into the stunning bath chamber with it's gleaming marble and what seemed to be hundreds of candles aglow she found herself unprepared. Romance, he was giving her, and that was the very thing she thought to abandon utterly. In her shock she did not protest when the maid moved to remove her dancing slippers, the voice of their shared Lord making her flush as he dismissed the attendant. <br><br>Silence held them both then, for Serafina struggled to understand what lay within her, how he melted a heart that had always been unmoved with the caress of his calloused fingers through her silken hair. Her bright eyes perhaps posed those queries along with countless others, though they were lost when he knelt before her to remove her slip, an action she allowed, hands bracing gently upon his broad shoulders for support. <strong>"I read in your gaze an intent that threatens to overwhelm me, my Lord."</strong> Her breath caught as she gathered her courage to stay her only boundary line. <strong>"If I am to belong to you and your heart, then should she not also be present for this?"</strong> One hand rose, finger tips lightly caressing his strong jawline, <strong>"Please have no doubt of my desire, and know I only wish to honor who already lays in both our hearts."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>13-01-2018, 05:39:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/ca/Marek_Alessandro.jpg)</div>She spoke, in a voice dove soft yet full of nuances which sent his mind aflutter. She regarded him, the conflict in her eyes showing that he was not alone in the maddening state of desire and hesitation.<br><br>And by the heavens, she said the one thing which he most craved, and desperately needed to hear..<br><br><strong>”You are, cherished Fina, most certainly correct. She should be here, if what you believe my gaze holds is correct.”</strong><br><br>Gently he lifted her foot to rest upon his knee, and then he bent to kiss it. A soft gasp was his grateful reward to her for the delight such a sensation caused, his lips upon her flesh. Alessandro looked up into her eyes, and his smile broadened. Teasingly he lifted the ruffle of her skirt, and kissed the refined arch of her calf muscle.<br><br>He tried, so hard, to play the calm and collected experienced one. Should she note that his hands trembled at the touch of her, or that his breath caught now and again at the slow discovery of her impossibly enticing marvels? <br><br>Testament, plain and honest, that her Alessandro was most definitely sincere in his appreciation for her, and devout in his adoration. He wanted her, profoundly, at a level that most obviously bewildered him as much as it delighted.<br><br>Just as obviously, he was exerting not the slightest effort in resisting her, but rather he ran towards her with arms open only less slightly than his heart itself was to her.<br><br><strong>”Yes, my darling one. Our shared love should and will be with us, when that moment comes. But I am afraid, Serafina, that you misread my intent.”</strong><br><br>Still kneeling, his hands lifted to her skirts, and he began untying them. His gaze never leaving hers, he leaned forward to lend his teeth to the process, tugging at strings with a smile upon his devious, markedly wanton face.<br><br><strong>”I have <em>every</em> intention of overwhelming you, Fina. In fact, in my heart is but this single burning thought: I wish to torture you, and myself as well. I wish us to both know suffering, at a level which dwarfs any ache we may have known before. Ravages the mind and leaves us gasping and begging for reprieve from its cruel and unrelenting embrace.”</strong><br><br>As he said is he smiled, and presently her outer skirt slid to the floor. He smirked at it and pursed his lips, then looked up to her once more.<br><br><strong>”An auspicious start, do you not agree? A fine beginning to the agony to come?”</strong><br><br>Slowly he stood and unbuttoned his outer coat, allowing it to slump to the floor beside her skirt.<br><br><strong>”Hmmm… I do believe it is your turn again, Fina. But… do allow me…”</strong><br><br>He reached around her to access the strings of her bodice, his chest brushing against hers and his face a fraction of an inch from her own. Alessandro’s voice was a low hum of need and mirth as he leaned to her ear and spoke.<br><br><strong>”Torture, you see. Unrelenting, and unforgiving. Abject, in its assault upon our senses. And I do indeed say ‘our’, for I assure you the effects shall not be yours alone to endure.”</strong><br><br>Her bodice slide away, and at the sight of her breasts now encased in but the restraining casing of her corset he groaned aloud and ground his teeth in frustration. Quickly his hands fumbled, and his trousers slid to the marble of the floor in a rustle of fabric.<br><br>It was her turn to see features made plain then, of course, the hard and begging outline of his erection thick and obvious as it strained against his undergarment. He chuckled as her eyes took it in, and kissed her cheek.<br><br><strong>”We are… why, back to you again, are we not?”</strong><br><br>Slowly, inch by inch he began to unlace her corset, and as her bare stomach came into view her groaned and bent to kiss it. Her shirt was abandoned for a moment as he growled in want, kissing the soft flesh revealed, and his erection bobbed visibly. Only after a moment did he gain control of himself, and though his shoulders shook he managed to lift her corset the rest of the way and reveal her naked breasts. <br><br>If he moved slowly before, now he did so with intent, curious as to which of them he might be tormenting more. At last his trembling lips reached her breasts, and delicate fluttering kisses worked their way over them and to the hard nipples so eagerly rising to meet him.<br><br>For a moment he shut his eyes and stood very still, and it was clear that his control over him own actions was not a surety. Finally he managed it, and he laughed lightly as he tugged his shirt off. The bandage upon his shoulder was now the single area upon his chest and shoulders not privy to her sight, and his chest rose and fell in deep, measured breaths.<br><br><strong>”Yours…. Your turn.”</strong><br><br>Gone was the glib commentary, for such was beyond him now, replaced by the soul-aching need to see the glories which were promptly revealed as her undergarment slid down her bare legs.<br><br><strong>”As… oh God alive, Fina… as I said… ‘torture’, at least for your loving Alessandro. Of the most exquisite and memorable nature. Eternal, for in this moment I shall swear to you upon my life, I will remember the perfection of you revealed to me for this first time until my dying breath, and be grateful.”</strong><br><br>And revealed she was, the soft tuft of delicate hair at the apex of her thighs catching the candle light and framing her sex as a halo. It was obvious that he was simply undone, and that he ached for her so completely that she might never doubt his love. Wordlessly he slid his own undergarments down his legs, revealing himself to her as well, and for a long moment he stood there and simply looked at her. Finally, in a voice thick with husky need, he spoke.<br><br><strong>”You envisioned, I believe my darling one, that at this point we would proceed beyond a point which our Nicoletta should indeed be here for. Yet as I said, tonight is merely torture. Tonight is merely agony, for such is not for us this evening.”</strong><br><br>At that he swept her into his arms and wrapped her into his embrace, the riotous effect of her nude warm skin upon own equally exposed flesh prompting a low howl of want. Desperately he kissed her, his mouth settling fiercely onto hers and his tongue seeking its counterpart with passionate abandon. For long, exquisite moments he kissed her, his hands roaming over her back and buttocks, but refraining from further explorations to more intimate areas. Though his erection pressed hard and heated against her stomach, he made no move beyond kissing her, and groaning her appreciation of the moment. <br><br>Finally, long minutes later, he looked into her eyes and gasped.<br><br><strong>”I must… I <em>must</em>, else my resolve shall fail, release you from my arms now my darling. I must find some measure of reserve, some strength I did not imagine I possessed, and take those two horrible steps backwards which <em>must</em> happen.”</strong><br><br>Miraculously, though it cost him a part of his soul itself, he did so, even as his gaze swept openly over her and he groaned his appreciation.<br><br><strong>”Into the bath, with both of us. You on your side, me on mine. Should either of us cross the middle, I do not believe that my desire might be reined in a second time.”</strong><br><br>Cautiously, a man retreating from a tiger, he backed away from her and stepped into the large bath. Watching her, he smiled.<br><br><strong>”Let us talk, and come to know each other properly. Let us continue becoming mad for each other, or at least allow me to do so, for I confess that I am well upon such a path.”</strong> His voice grew low then, and his gaze intent. <strong>”She will be here, then, as she should be. But tonight my Fina let us, just you and I, have this time to stare into each other’s eyes. Let it be just us this evening that shares a bath, and aches for more.”</strong><br><br>Grinning, he splashed a handful of warm, scented water towards her and laughed. <strong>”Get in, or I shall come and get you.”</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>16-01-2018, 17:42:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her gently stated protest roused no anger in his eyes, only joy to sparkle back at her as her breath came quicker for the heat he bestowed so freely. And so when his hands cupped her foot and urged it up upon his knee she allowed it, shifting to balance better only to gasp when his lips from her foot, and then his hands were moving upward, and his lips as well, upon her calf, and she became aware of how utterly intimate the moment was without truly caring. How could he gaze at her so, as if she were in truth a goddess come into his grasp, as if each touch he took of her skin inspired him to burn all the brighter with life. <br><br>And yet still she felt the tremble of his hands, and marveled that so powerful a man could feel for her as deeply as he did. <br><br>When Alessandro spoke of her misreading his intent hot color swept the blond's cheeks, wondering if perhaps she had given herself too much confidence in her own beauty. Still her shoes were removed and she left in stockings as her feet found purchase once more. Her Lord delighted she thought in shocking her, for upon his knees did his fingers work at her laces, and then his teeth joined until her skirt cascaded to the floor as he spoke of torment and suffering. Uncertain, the young woman bit her lower lip, her breath coming uneven upon the sight of his handsome face smirking up at her. <br><br><strong>"Why should you court agony?"</strong> For he could take her, if he willed it. Her own desires in the end mattered not now that she had thrown her fate in with his, at his mercy. The removal of his coat distracted her somewhat, for she did so admire the powerful breadth of his shoulders, the strong masculine form beneath his clothing. <br><br>He gave her no time to recover from that flustered reaction, not as his body rose from the floor and then reached for her, this time to undo her bodice with their chests crushed just so against each other and his lips close enough to kiss. Not that he kissed her again, though the earlier embrace haunted her thoughts, left her trembling as she blushed and shifted against him as another article of her clothing was cast to the floor and more of her was revealed to him. And oh his response, it was enough to make her flush with arousal and delight both. <br><br>A shock came then, when his trousers were so swiftly discarded and only his trews kept his body from being naked before her eyes. The obvious sight of his arousal, straining against his clothing had her throat working, her blue eyes wide and uncertain. Flirtation was one thing, but <em>this</em> was something far different. <strong>"Alessandro... why?"</strong><br><br>So often she asked him that, and yet he was a mystery to her, greater each moment they spent time together as he at last removed the confines of her corset and left her in only the thin shift of her chemise against her flesh, her stockings slipping down her legs slowly. The press of his lips against the swell of her soft stomach had her inhaling shakily and then the corset was gone, completely, and her pert breasts revealed with taut nipples that spoke of how he affected her. His mouth was hot against her skin, his lips traversing her fair skin and summoning from her little sounds. When his mouth teased around one nipple she startled herself by moaning, trembling against him as her hands clutched at his shoulders. <br><br>Long lashes blinked, attempting to clear her pleasure hazed eyes in time to see that his shirt had been discarded and a hard body lay beneath it, one broad of shoulder and solid, a man's body, not a boys. Nervously her tongue wet her lower lip as he reached for her, taking then the last of her clothing and baring her in the candle light that gilded her fair figure, from the rosy hue of her nipples to the golden curls at the apex of her slender legs. She had tasted the power of a man's infatuation and desire before, but this was different, the way he looked at her, the way he touched her... and then he was nude as well, as if they were Adam and Eve of old and she understood abruptly that the original sin had no hope of ever not happening. Not if Adam had been as Alessandro was. <br><br>Her Lord only deepened her confusion then, speaking of agony before sweeping her into his arms and she melted into him with a low sound of hungry need she had never made before in her life. To his shoulders she clung as his lips slanted over her own, and every bit of skill she had learned in her flirtations was called upon now as she sought to match his searing kiss with one of her own while overwhelmed by the sensation of his calloused hands hot against her back, the curve of her ass, and the hard press of his shaft against her stomach. No kiss had ever been so glorious. <br><br>When he withdrew she made a low sound of protest, but did not follow after him when he departed, though she swayed unsteadily where she stood with features clearly dazed from his passion. Serafina moved only upon his command, walking slowly toward the bath from the other side to give them the safety of physical distance. The warm water caressed her, but not so well as his hands had. She sank down into the bath, shuddering as he spoke of learning of each other when all she wanted was to feel his kiss, to know the fullness of his touch. The splash of water prompted a soft, shaky laugh and she splashed back in kind. <strong>"I know not what there is to speak of when your lips render me speechless in wonder."</strong><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marek</strong> on <strong>20-01-2018, 05:46:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His precious Serafina settled into the bath, and Alessandro was struck by how fortunate the unknowing water was.<br><br>Did it not slide over her, completely free to roam over her body? Did it not even begin to settle into her precious, perfect skin, becoming a part of her delicious essence?<br><br>Alessandro grinned at her, and pursed his lips thoughfully.<br><br>“Why, love? Why court agony?” He smiled, allowing his gaze to fall to the outline of her body within the bath. “I shall offer that it must be so. It must, because were I to lie with you now, tonight, I know in my heart that I would be ill-prepared to adore you as you deserved. I shall not do that to you, give you anything but that which you deserve, Fina. I will not.”<br><br>He shook his head, and smiled softly.<br><br>“Do you select the most perfectly sublime book, a tale of wonder and exquisite, perfect beauty… and then rush to the last page? Of course not. You <em>savor</em> it. You relish each page, hands trembling in awe at the artistry of what you discover and gasping in delight at each revealed nuance.”<br><br>Alessandro grinned, perfectly and unrepentantly roguishly, and regarded her intently. “I shall not rush to your arms nor coax you into my bed because, my love, I intent to <em>devour</em> you, page by perfect page. Every word and every phrase of you. Before we reach, you and I, that last trembling page wherein our story fully unfolds and we consummate that which is between us…?”<br><br>He leaned forward, to stare into her eyes. “I will <em>know</em> you. Know the scent of you, for it shall be so familiar to me that it utterly haunts and consumes me, leaving me aching for the need of you. I shall know your skin – the way that light bends around it and the sun brings a perfect blush to your delicate shoulders. God, Fina, will I know you… every breath, every laugh, and yes every sigh as well. Should a single tear fall from those eyes, so precious to me, you must summon me and tell me at once; I would know that as well, both to banish from your presence that which displeases you, but also to taste that tear and the salt of your frustration.”<br><br>Alessandro leaned back and grew quiet for a moment.<br><br>“I will love all of you, Fina. I swear this to you with my life, that I shall learn every word of your story and be blinded by the sublime beauty of it. I promise you this with complete confidence; you must know, you <em>must</em>, that you may believe me completely in this, and that it is no less a surety than the sun rising in the morn.” He nodded solemnly, to reinforce his point. “Any why am I able to say this with such a guarantee? Your famous ‘why’?” <br><br>The slightest of shrugs caused his shoulders to cast ripples through the stillness of the bath. “Because, my darling, I have done this before once – and only once. You know that story, and know that my devotion there is… all of me. Simply all of me.”<br><br>There was profound emotion rolling off him in waves, for foremost among Alessandro’s many failings and flaws as a man was his inability to conceal his inner-most thoughts. “Nicolette’s and my story is a perfect love story, bound together by God himself. Upon every single page of our lives there appears beauty, and love. Devotion, in all things.” He smiled softly. “And yes, Fina, I shall not pretend otherwise, there may at times appear upon the pages of our tale a drop of blood now and again at some venture gone mad, or the occasional blotch of spilled wine or fallen rain, but… love. That is the very tale of who she and I are. And… who you, <em>and</em> she, and I shall be.”<br><br>He spread his hands and shook his head. “I am not a decent man, for my own greed and inability to deny myself your perfection makes me so. And I <em>embrace</em> that label, should it make it more easy for our dynamic to unfold. That Letta finds this arrangement satisfying and pleasing as well? I will not countenance you labeling her indecent – that is <em>my</em> title, and mine alone – but perhaps she also recognizes that we as three shall be more than any pairing might every hope to hold.”<br><br>Alessandro laughed, and stretched his foot out across the bath. Looping one of her legs, he raised her small foot to the surface of the water and caught it gently, cradling it in his hands. Tenderly he kissed the top of her foot, and a shudder of delight ran through him. After a moment he released her foot, to then trace a finger lightly over his lips as if to memorize the feeling of her skin against them.<br><br>“I will know you.”<br><br>Spent from his confessions, he reached for his wine from the small table beside the bath, and took a respectable drink. Replacing the glass carefully, he regarded her. <br><br>“<em>That</em>, love, is why I court the agony of being in your presence in such an intimate manner as this. Because it takes time to add pages to a book. It must be done properly, reverently, for the resulting tome to be worthy of those it is written about.” He nodded, his eyes upon her intently. “Do not, I beg of you, misinterpret my hesitation tonight or in the nights to come. It is not because I do not desire or love you – but because I do.”<br><br>Alessandro met her eyes and laughed softly. “Fools fall in love, Fina my darling. Fools and weak men, only they <em>fall</em> in love.” At that his smile widened, as though he was about to impart a great truth. “I am not such a man. I do not <em>fall</em> in love, as though it were some hole in the ground meant to drag me down and diminish me in the process. No, not that. I <em>leap</em> into it, Fina! I… I shall fling myself off the highest peak of love, and scream your name in delight the whole way down as I fall into your embrace! And at the end of my fall, when at last I fall into your arms, you must decide to either catch me and accept my love or let me meet my fate upon the hard ground at your feet. Nothing else will do. And I tell you this: you must give unto Letta and I your story, every word and every page, for you shall never be loved as you will be by us.”<br><br>Alessandro stood then, the water barely coming to his waist, and walked across the bath to her. Bending, he crushed his mouth to hers and kissed her with the longing of a man that has just given a woman he adores his very soul, praying that she will keep it safe. He kissed her as though he might, through that single act, take enough of her into him to sate his need for her for a time. Gasping, at long last he released her from his embrace, and his eyes flared wildly as he looked at her. Shakily he stepped back to his side of the bath, to sit again and stare at her in raw desire.<br><br>“<em>That</em> is ‘why’.[/i]”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Keidance</strong> on <strong>23-04-2018, 19:40:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nicoletta Moncenigo was no naive ingénue- if asked, she would but laugh and suggest she had never been, but she could play one with the Devil's grace and his gifts, alone. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As she watched the motion of those two upon the floor, they were as much hers as the one she had sent with instructions, who she knew soon after would return to her. Different possession, different ownership, but none the less: hers. Serafina and Alessandro's volta was something to behold. Oh, indeed there was intimacy in dance as reckless as she may well chide Aless for being in choosing such a dance. But in the subtle ever shifting movements of a body displayed where eyes could watch, and souls could shift to music in ways far purer then fuckery. Sometimes, a dance was all it took to reveal what even the minds of the dancers did not know, but the flesh did. Nicoletta, far from a romantic at heart, had to admit to herself, experience had taught her that the first dance often was a precious a jewel of understanding between two, as the first kiss could be. And even while the mask was on the Angel, there was no doubt of emotions that lay within the delicate form. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It didn't hurt that it amused her to see the reactions of their guests. Was this because of the display, because of the messages sent without words but with the actions? Perhaps, but with Nicoletta, was one ever sure- other than Alessandro from time to time? The sweetest of smiles placed upon her lips, dared them without words to suggest it was not her own doing. Perception was reality, was it not, at least in the eyes of the mob, no matter how 'loyal' the mob was. Nicola returned to her, by the time the dance was ending, his message delivered and the second of them once more whispered into the sweet shell of Nicoletta's ear. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The way those sunset curls danced about her face as she turned her face to his once more, the way the pools of her eyes widened, and full lips parted to spill laughter perhaps suggested some bit in intrigue and wickedness between herself and her Darling toy upon his return.&nbsp; Oh, to be truthful, he was delicious to look upon and why should he not be? A gift from her Alessandro, this doll that was hers to control. And like any good accessory, Nicola only enhanced the beauty of his Keeper and the mystique that surrounded him was speculation and rumor to be sure. <strong>"Now, is it not our own turn, yes? Let us set them on their heels or upon their ears if they are so inclined. We surely cannot shock them any further."</strong> For him, her voice was lighter then whisper, exhaled with the wine sweetened breath to bless his flawless skin.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nicola allowed the faint chuckle to escape his lips as his head inclined to her own, the blue of his eyes the sky to her earth, or the slate colored stone to the mossy highlights of pools that slipped across his features as her fingers did the same into his gloved palm. Never skin to skin, not with these two. <strong>"Always, as you wish it to be, Padrona." </strong>And with that answer, only after Aless and Serafina had taken their leave of the floor, would Nicoletta raise her other hand to signal to the musicians to play one of her favored songs. An incline of her head to those surrounding, gave her gratefulness for their attendance at this gathering, but more so it invited the to join in after the first turns of the dance were completed. Oh, such was the rules and even these scoundrels followed rules from time to time. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The two of them danced as if they were carved from the same stone, as if once perhaps they had been one creature. It was practiced movement, to be sure, but practiced in a way that made it seem effortless, as if the graceful knowledge of one anothers movements was but instinctual. Their conversation was their own, held in their own manner, at times merely a word slipped from lips to ears, and the eyes or slightest manifestation of motion would give answer.&nbsp; She was happy when other couples began to take the floor, when the sound of conversation and gaiety once more filled the stone walls of their home, breathing life of another sort within the heart of it. The moonlight trickled in through the veiling sheer cloth, the breeze carrying the sun warmed earth caught in it’s cooling from the luminous moon and with it came the wild fragrance of the gardens. <br><br>She danced with her Nicola until that was interrupted by another guest who wished his time to seek her counsel. Of course, Nicola was in no way without his own requested partners, his instructions clear, as always. His hand found it’s way into a rather exploratory member of the clergy, but no judgement or shock would be found here as each couple found their way to the music. Her own form was the prize for the gentleman whose concerns she heard with patient ears, her advice given discreetly, as it always was. And his thanksgiving was apparent as he pressed his lips to her gloved hand at the end of their dance. <strong>"You will come tomorrow evening and tell me how it was taken by the council, yes?"</strong>&nbsp; His nod told her nothing, but his eyes told her he would likely inform her before the afternoon.&nbsp; Eventually, dance would give way to refreshments and conversations in nooks and set private alcoves within the manor. Such was the case, and some of those conversations would of course, involve less then words and more then coin, as often was the case with those as well. <br><br>But before the night drew to that, Nicoletta would excuse herself. It wasn’t as if such was hard to do, all things considered, the fete had been a success all around. Her webs were spun, and information would trickle to her by morning, carried on little slippers and shining boots all the same. And what she did with the information would be her own amusement, for that was the one of the sweetest rewards of such a life, the power of knowledge collected in ways that even the confessional could not mimic. Eventually she would haunt the same halls that they had passed through, it was not secret where they would have headed, nor did she need the physician to give her report upon the list of injuries, no more then he needed her to press coin into his palm, for such details had already been handled. <br><br>It was beautiful in the way that made the soul ache and the heart bloom, the scene playing out before her. Perhaps harder to tell how long she stood in the private entrance to this room, that smile unchanging upon lips, as verdant eyes collected every detail, as if to etch it upon the marrow of her bones so that if her soul ever doubted, this could be recollected as some personal mythos to bring comfort. The humidity within the room brought a dewy glow to the complexion of silk and cream, the lighting did all favors- a fact she was sure some were more grateful for then others, as she removed her silken slippers, so that the floor did not ruin the fragile fabric. <br><br>Even Nicoletta could be struck by awe or inspired by that which reached outwards and compelled, no, commanded the world to be what he would make it, mired as he could be at times in that which was unchanging.&nbsp; Normally, this would be where interjection would fall from her lips, some flippant remark or rapier sharp comment, or in some cases, some gentle proposal or soft word meant to turn or twine the tide. This time however, there was only the silence and the gaze that fell upon both as ears gleaned words from air kissed with water. Her own hand reached outwards, as kiss was broken, and Alessandro retreated shaking to his side of the bath, leaving Serafina to react as she would. From a smaller table there, Nicoletta poured three drinks, her presence made known with that action, the light whisper of the cloth worn dampened and clinging to form in ways that revealed more then it hid as she turned walking towards Fina first, the goblet for her extended as if the liquid courage could sweeten the girl anymore then she already was. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Il nostro amore e nostro - Keidance, Wistful Dream, and Marek</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>26-04-2018, 19:21:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So readily did that wide grin come to his lips, flash in his dark eyes at her query. In truth she had thought to know what to expect of a man of his kind, and yet Alessandro so constantly surprised her, even now as he spoke of not giving her the adoration she deserved. Wonder shone in her summer sky blue eyes. She had known a little of courting, had flirted and teased, yet what he did, speaking of her as something to savor, to cherish in each aspect of herself and Serafina felt herself overwhelmed by the notion. Upon her lips lay the words to plead with him to simply take her, to use her and then discard her, yet self aware as she was, with her fiercely cherished intelligence, she knew that was only fear of his intensity speaking not the truth desire of her heart. <br><br>To be loved in such a manner...<br><br>Was this then the cage that Nicoletta had spoken of, the binding he placed upon her mentor, her idol, that of love rather than duty? The notion made her breathless, though once more he spoke of her as something perfect, drawing a shake of her flaxen head in denial. <strong>"I am many things, my Lord, but perfect is not one I would claim."</strong> A wry smile touched her lips, humor glinting in her eyes as she moved beyond simply being overwhelmed by him and instead thought of all the many flaws her parents had been so apt to complain of while her hands ran through the water. Her gaze rose, in time for him to stare so intently at her, to speak of knowing every intimate detail that might come to pass. Was she flawed, that she was thrilled by his adoration but also, unnerved by it? Nicoletta seemed so at peace, serene and powerful. And then he offered all of him, everything, to place her upon such venerated place as Nicoletta's, making color sweep her cheeks, a small sound of shock caught within her throat. <br><br><strong>"I will do nothing to endanger that which you and my Lady have together, for I have no desire to eclipse or replace, no want to steal that happiness. I have ever admired her, and to an extent you and thus I sought you out to attempt to find my own path, one not given to loveless marriage. I had not thought to find love so freely offered to me in kind, from both of you as well. But you speak of me as something perfect, as if I were not a woman. I <em>am</em> human, and who can truly love a perfect thing?</strong> For all that she had been silent so often near him, had spoken little to him of what had driven her to this point and mostly issued forth so simple a question, posed in one word to ascertain his motives there lay a steel within her spine that flashed in her words that vowed to protect first what he and the Lady Nicoletta shared before any thought of herself. It was that same strength that had seen her break from the expectations placed upon her, and indeed the same intelligence as well that had so often derided the response that came from her angelic looks and not the words of her soul. <br><br>Serafina could love no person who did not see the whole of her. <br><br>Her Lord surprised her though, catching up her foot in his hands, his fingers caressing along the arch of it until he could cradle it fully in his large hands. The kiss made her tremble, and her leg dropped heavily into the water as she watched him with rosy cheeks and wide eyes caress his on lip as it to recall the taste of her skin. The promise on his lips, such an ardent vow, made her heart quicken within her breast. She found herself enthralled, unable to look away from him as he declared his intent to leap into the promise of what they might be, even without knowing for certain her own answer. This was no seduction done by someone with intent to use her heart against her, but rather a heart that might well be as passionate and wild as her own. <strong>"Alessandro, I..."</strong><br><br>When he stood her words trailed off, and gaze averted when the bath water reached hardly to his waist, threatening to reveal the fullness of his nude glory. But he was there, leaning over her as his lips found her own and his kiss demanded response. She trembled for him, gasping into that fierce embrace as she replied to the kiss, passionate yet innocent until he left her reeling and retreated while a quivering hand rose to touch her swollen lips. A vow not only with words, but action as well, an oath she could not discard as she had those offered to the suitors who thought to make her their wife. <br><br>A whisper of sound drew her attention while she even yet attempted to understand just what she felt within her. Was this, then, what others called love. If so she had never known it before, no the depth of desire both he and the Lady sparked within her until she thought she might catch aflame. Nicoletta was there, with her stunning gaze, her russet hair and Serafina watched her with emotion sparkling in her gaze as the other woman neared. The goblet extended, her hand reached for it, and then paused as she pushed herself up out of the water though droplets of it still clung to her figure, highlighting her fair skin, the rosy hue of her nipples as her hand instead cupped Nicoletta's cheek and she dared to place a kiss against the other woman's lips well aware of just who watched them now. At first her kiss was shy, a question, and when no rebuke came she gently ran her tongue along the seam of the brunette's mouth, seeking entry to explore what lay between her and the one she had always viewed as Venus herself. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>