Chapter 1: It All Starts With Desire
"Those whose restrain Desire only do so because their desire is weak enough to do so."-William Blake
(The "action" will take some time to appear...so if plots do not appeal to you....you are free to go. However¸ if you enjoy something more than quick gratification, please, stay.:))
Italy mid 1700s:
"..Signor Lautremont?"
Said gent started from his brief nap in the gilded carriage that elevated its four occupants from the outside world, namely he-and two tall majordomos in black,
their large brimmed hats (along with the dark interior of the carriage) shielding their visages, who flanked their master,
who by all appearances, seemed to be an Aryan Adonis, what with his sapphire colored pools for eyes and golden locks that framed his chiseled, fair visage.
He wore a blue brocade jacket that matched his eyes, and black breeches and shoes and a smile that revealed his teeth, not unlike a string of freshwater pearls.
He was also the one who spoke.
Lautremont's eyelids creaked open, revealing grey-blue eyes that contrasted with his pale complexion and ink dark hair held back with a red ribbon.
His head was resting against the rose tinted window, his chin propped up by his hand that was propped up by the armrest.
His suit was the color of Night, with gold gildings. He was no less handsome than the former, but his concern for his appearance was far from his mind right now.
"Yes, Erik?"
The latter replied, sitting up to face him.
"Once again, we congratulate you on your recent rise to power. The leadership is well sought after...but I need not tell you that,"
Erik spoke, in German-accented Italian.
Lautremont allowed himself a self congratulatory smile...why SHOULDN'T he feel proud? Still...what was it someone said about something coming before a fall...
"And what luck: the passing of power falls on your birthday..."
Continued Erik.
