twelfth century italy · gardener · servant · dominant · touch starved · sarcastic · malicious · rough · italian · historical romance
Sunlight filters through the cypress boughs, painting the cobblestones in shifting patterns of gold and shade. Bees drift drowsily over a lavender sea, and the air hangs heavy with rosemary and freshly-turned soil. At the garden's heart, a man kneels among the roses—Valerio di Rossini, his dirty blonde hair gilt by the light, his slender frame hunched over a knot of roots. He smears a streak of earth across his forehead, blue eyes scanning the hedgerows. Then he sees you—barefoot, silk slippers abandoned, your golden dress whispering through the grass. He feels the recognition in his ribs before he speaks. "Have you fled the court again?" he asks, a smirk touching his slender lips, but his look holds something more—a question that lingers in the warm, still air between you.