Mirror to see your face, painting to see your soul
She sat still, no words coming from her lips as her maid combed her hair gently. For all the airs and graces of the upper classes, Henriette had never forced them upon her maid, in fact, she was probably the closest thing she had to a friend. This was for many reasons, but none as important as the secrets they held between them, for she knew of Henriette’s love for another man as well as her need to keep him safe. More so when she felt like this injuries were her fault, the wound in his hand, his jail sentence, and no doubt more she had missed asking the way. All of it because he loved her and she loved him back.
“M’lady,” the maids words broke into her thoughts, “Is this the effect you desired?”
Looking into the mirror before her she inspected her hair and face, a slight nod of the head signalled to the maid se was indeed pleased with the way her hair had been arranged, “Yes, thank you.”
As she stood, the maid picked up a deep red dress and helped her mistress into it. “I believe he is waiting for you in the conservatory, he says the light if better in there and will last longer.”
“Thank you,” minutes later she sat very still, looking off into the distance. She thought of Giac, and how her heart and soul ached for him. In the room, the only sounds were those of her breathing and the brush of the paint against the canvas, at least, if here were others, Henriette was too deep in thought to hear them.
23rd century
The blond stopped, her hand slipping from that of the man who she had been walking with, and she starred at the painting before her. A beautiful dark haired woman in a deep red dress had been painted onto the canvas before her, there was a far off look in her eyes, it was almost as if she didn’t really want to be where she was. In her eyes, she could see so much pain and loss.
“Rose?”
“Hmmm?” She glanced up at the man she had been walking with, “Sorry. This painting just caught my attention, she looks so sad.”
“Henriette Marianne Grimani, that’s her married name of course, was involved in one of the biggest scandals of her time.”
“Oh?”
“Well yeah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Ever hear of Casanova? Man, famous for his indecent meetings with numerous women.”
“Yeah, they made a film about it not long ago, Heath ledger was it in.”
He shook his head, popular culture, it had a lot to answer for.
“Henriette was said to be the only woman he ever truly loved, she loved him in return.”
“And she married someone else?”
The man nodded sagely, “She did. Things were different back then, people married for money and titles, they didn’t always marry for love. They couldn’t afford to.” There was a sad tone in his voice also, such a pity really, people so miserable, thinking money could make them happy and it couldn’t.
“No wonder she looks so lost and heartbroken. It must be awful not being able to spend time with the person you love.”
He just nodded, watching her carefully, “Sometimes you don’t really have a choice Rose, sometimes you do what you have to, to survive.” And he knew that more than most people.
“M’lady,” the maids words broke into her thoughts, “Is this the effect you desired?”
Looking into the mirror before her she inspected her hair and face, a slight nod of the head signalled to the maid se was indeed pleased with the way her hair had been arranged, “Yes, thank you.”
As she stood, the maid picked up a deep red dress and helped her mistress into it. “I believe he is waiting for you in the conservatory, he says the light if better in there and will last longer.”
“Thank you,” minutes later she sat very still, looking off into the distance. She thought of Giac, and how her heart and soul ached for him. In the room, the only sounds were those of her breathing and the brush of the paint against the canvas, at least, if here were others, Henriette was too deep in thought to hear them.
23rd century
The blond stopped, her hand slipping from that of the man who she had been walking with, and she starred at the painting before her. A beautiful dark haired woman in a deep red dress had been painted onto the canvas before her, there was a far off look in her eyes, it was almost as if she didn’t really want to be where she was. In her eyes, she could see so much pain and loss.
“Rose?”
“Hmmm?” She glanced up at the man she had been walking with, “Sorry. This painting just caught my attention, she looks so sad.”
“Henriette Marianne Grimani, that’s her married name of course, was involved in one of the biggest scandals of her time.”
“Oh?”
“Well yeah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Ever hear of Casanova? Man, famous for his indecent meetings with numerous women.”
“Yeah, they made a film about it not long ago, Heath ledger was it in.”
He shook his head, popular culture, it had a lot to answer for.
“Henriette was said to be the only woman he ever truly loved, she loved him in return.”
“And she married someone else?”
The man nodded sagely, “She did. Things were different back then, people married for money and titles, they didn’t always marry for love. They couldn’t afford to.” There was a sad tone in his voice also, such a pity really, people so miserable, thinking money could make them happy and it couldn’t.
“No wonder she looks so lost and heartbroken. It must be awful not being able to spend time with the person you love.”
He just nodded, watching her carefully, “Sometimes you don’t really have a choice Rose, sometimes you do what you have to, to survive.” And he knew that more than most people.