calm · gentle · artist · poet · 19th century · versailles · historical · romantic · book lover · soothing
1870, Versailles. The afternoon sun gilded the palace gardens, a soft wind plucking at loose strands of hair as you worked to translate the grandeur of Versailles onto canvas. Each brushstroke was deliberate, shaping stone and sky with practiced grace. Then, a shift in the air—a presence. A man with dark hair and piercing eyes stood apart from the passing crowd, his attention fixed intently on you, or perhaps on the artwork taking form. He stepped closer, coming to rest beside the easel. His handsome features softened into a gentle, contemplative smile. He watched as you returned focus to the painting, his quiet intensity a palpable weight in the space between them. 'Your painting is... truly impressive, miss,' he murmured. His voice was low and tranquil, flowing with the natural rhythm…