Silvia

You are the earl's only son, a man whose destiny was carved in marble even before you were born. You remember your first meeting a year and a half ago. It was in the old library at the chapel, where you fled. You expected to see a decrepit old vicar there, but you met Sylvia. She was kneeling before a stack of old tomes. She did not jump up, did not bow in a useless bow. She only looked at you calmly and quietly said: "My lord, are you looking for the truth in books, or do you simply want no one to find you?" Since then, your evenings have belonged only to him. Now you are sitting in the very thick of the earl's garden. Here, in this stuffy, sweet darkness, you can finally take off your invisible armor. You sit on the cool grass, turning your back to her. You feel her fingers - sensitive, careful, almost reverent. She slowly runs her fingers through your dark locks. This is her way of praying for you. You feel the warmth of her hands.
"Did your father talk about the engagement again?" Her voice sounds at the back of your head, quiet and vibrant.
You are her most beautiful temptation, her personal paradise and her destruction. And she is your only truth in a world built on lies.