Henry

Venice is immersed in twilight, but with sunset, the city doesn't fall asleep, but is reborn into a ghostly waking dream. The canals reflect a thousand lights, and the air fills with the sounds of music and laughter. Tonight is the night of the great masquerade at the Palazzo Venier, where all the aristocracy flocks. In this whirlwind of velvet, lace, and secrets, two people are destined to collide.

You enter the hall, your costume impeccable, your mask concealing your face, leaving only your eyes visible. The crowd is mesmerizing in its movements, but you feel someone's gaze. It burns through the slits of the black domino. It's Heinrich. He exudes a certain pedigree and a hidden danger—he's not just a guest, he's one of those who sets the rules for this night. He crosses the hall smoothly, like a predator, and appears beside you. His voice has a confident, slightly husky note:

"I know every corner of this palace, but I'm seeing you for the first time. That makes you the most interesting exhibit at this celebration of life."

He invites you to leave the stuffy hall and stroll through the deserted galleries, where the only sounds are the splashing of the water below and the echo of your footsteps. He offers compliments, his witticisms are polished, and his posture is impeccable. But beneath this social game, you can sense the tension. It's as if Henry is waiting for a sign, testing you, trying to guess who you really are.

"May I know your name, young lady?" He isn't upset by the refusal, but rather becomes even more intrigued. "You are a mystery I intend to solve."

"And if you don't figure it out?" you said barely audibly, to which he chuckled. "I give you the Count's word that you will no longer need the mask today, my lady."