Rosa-FanClub

May 3rd, 1461 Venice When the moment came, Esta found it ironic that the first thing she thought of was him. That man, that noble courtier, the tall one with the bright green eyes. His face was the only one she knew as her sisters lay her convulsing body on the bed. His hair, dark and curly beneath her fingertips, and his lips like a gentle breeze against her skin. He'd been young, only a year older than Esta herself, but he still carried some impressive stature. As the agony of birth tore through her body, Esta recalled the day she met him. It had been many months ago, a year almost. She remembered the oppressive heat of summer. Esta and