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*fingers let go of the aged page* This must have been written decades ago.
It probably wasn't intended to make somebody's world shift a bit and quiver at the edges. All things considered, it's rather unimportant.
Only I do feel light-headed at reading it. And my world does... wobble.
Because, you see, there are two men in my life, two, neither of them I could deny, neither of whom I could forget, neither of them I could ignore.
My husband. The Duke Grimani. Who, I once thought, had everything I needed to make me happy. He is handsome, clever, devoted, incredibly rich and powerful.
And Giacomo Casanova, yes, the famous Chevalier de Saingalt. The love of my life, he who made me believe for a while that there just might be something more wonderful to married life to just getting out of the slums, and ensuring food and home for my children. Whose wit and sense of humour and honesty and intensity turned my world around, with one look, in the middle of a busy piazza.
Whom my husband tore me away from.
The two of them never got along with each other, from the start.
And what a shock it now is to discover this brief scribbled side-note.
Giacomo Casanova. Quite possibly the natural son of Michele Grimani.
My late father-in-law.
Oh sweet irony.
Muse: Henriette di Grimani
Fandom: BBC Casanova (2005) + historical data
Word count: 225
It probably wasn't intended to make somebody's world shift a bit and quiver at the edges. All things considered, it's rather unimportant.
Only I do feel light-headed at reading it. And my world does... wobble.
Because, you see, there are two men in my life, two, neither of them I could deny, neither of whom I could forget, neither of them I could ignore.
My husband. The Duke Grimani. Who, I once thought, had everything I needed to make me happy. He is handsome, clever, devoted, incredibly rich and powerful.
And Giacomo Casanova, yes, the famous Chevalier de Saingalt. The love of my life, he who made me believe for a while that there just might be something more wonderful to married life to just getting out of the slums, and ensuring food and home for my children. Whose wit and sense of humour and honesty and intensity turned my world around, with one look, in the middle of a busy piazza.
Whom my husband tore me away from.
The two of them never got along with each other, from the start.
And what a shock it now is to discover this brief scribbled side-note.
Giacomo Casanova. Quite possibly the natural son of Michele Grimani.
My late father-in-law.
Oh sweet irony.
Muse: Henriette di Grimani
Fandom: BBC Casanova (2005) + historical data
Word count: 225
