𝐋𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗

𝐌𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

What a wonderful thing, stars were. Marielle had been given lots of time to observe them. Night being one of the only times she could be outdoors, truly enjoying her surroundings. While she couldn't remember much from her childhood, Marielle could remember that her father used to tell her wondrous stories that stars were just souls, ones that have passed away. It was a pleasant thought, that you could be something so beautiful after death. As dusk turned to night, the girl, no older than nine, felt herself getting impatient. Her evergreen eyes looked over the skyline of Sicily, Italy, her head on her arms as they rested on the window sill.

She wanted to go out, she was tired of staying in this hotel room, spending the day with the curtains closed tight, practicing her academics. Her father had left her with plenty of books to read while he was gone. In a strange circumstance, Marielle actually wished her sister was here. Even if she annoyed the hell out of her most of the time. Her father was here on some family business, and she didn't really know what that meant, but, she knew she wasn't included. Much to her dismay. The brunette girl could hear faint sounds of music and chatter from the city below. And oh, how she wanted to join in. It had taken quite an amount of begging to get her father to take her on this trip in the first place, and now she was cooped up in this room.

Loosing a faint sigh, the young vampire girl stepped away from the window, making her way to her bags, sitting at the foot of her bed. Kneeling down, her sundress touching the floor, she dug through her bag until she came out with a book. In French, unfortunately. She actually preferred English literature, even if French was her first language. Curling up in one of the armchairs, Marielle opened her book, awaiting her father's return. The nights in Sicily were warm and inviting.

No one could go anywhere about the place without it showing some form of excitement and romance. Growing up in a country like this people were wise to either take advantage of it quickly or be stuck in a muck trying. Nevertheless, on this particular evening at about eight o'clock the Parrino's had arrived back to the hotel villa with their courtly chaperone. The place in all honesty looked like a mansion separated from the rest on top a large hill. A young boy still very short for the age of twelve whom had yet to reach his growth in puberty managed to keep his composure the whole day during the conducting of business affairs.

Naturally, the only thing he wished to be doing wasn't playing like a dog to a leash but rather 'playing catch' instead; arguably so with or without the company via beast or human. By this way of thinking he was sharp and witty beyond his years. Words rolled off his tongue sarcastic to anyone. The only two people that stopped him from acting on his own "abrupt" accords were his father, Danilo and his mother, Arabella. When the door opened the curious boy looked around.

Upon the walls were large paintings of French noblemen and woman. Tapestries containing a royal coat of arms that hung from the foyer along two corresponding crystal chandallers. By the looks of things he could tell that his father had friends in 'very' high places through all facets of life. This didn't surprise the boy anymore than the villas gaudy decor. It was however better than having to meet up in any mysterious alleys away from the eyes of Catholic protestants.

Danilo wasn't by any means a saint but certainly he was also not a terrible sinner. His morals were what had gotten him, his family and his country further in the rising world of commerce. Before the young Jethro who was already bored out his mind could muster a sigh he was greeted by the houses chambermaid. An older woman with a slight cleft in her footing who reeked of cheap wine and lilac.

"Come little master, per di qua." [ "This way" ]

Of course he had been in disillusion to not care that his father and his friend had now brought it upon themselves to offer the idea of meeting a new play mate. He narrowed his burgundy eyes and glared over at his shoulder as the two walked out of the foyers entry into what looked like a study or a library. The annoyed youth swiftly turned his gaze back to the seemingly composed drunkard and followed her up one set of the villas imperial staircase. They had passed many hallways almost as if they were both caught in some incomprehensible labyrinth. Upon a doorway carved in marvel there were cupids with pointed bows. The door itself was made of a tropical mahogany that carried a tint of red. As the housekeeper opened the two sets of framework his eyes met with that of a girl who seemed to be drenched in sorrow and boredom.