There was something wrong in the room. Again.The smell of nature almost intoxicated her, she could hear the sound of plants climbing through the walls, the bed and even her. Artemysia felt everything, every movement and grip. The young woman had that same nightmare before, she remembered that.Artemisia had spent the first weeks of spring being plagued by ivy and belladonna. Remembering vaguely that made the nightmare worse.There were no windows, at least none in complete that prevented the icy air from reaching her. The ivies did a great job covering every inch of the walls, where the plants did not touch Artemisia could see worn and broken pillars, plus pieces of iron and a rusty door.The belladonna appeared staining that green carpet, they were also there so that the young woman would not think straight. With every breeze, that the girl wasn't sure where she was coming from, the smell intoxicated her like it was cyanide. She tried to stay awake inside that nightmare, but the gir

When the young woman's eyes opened, there was an old feeling stuck next to her on the bed. The strange feeling of living something new, but it seemed that she was not prepared to find out, on her own, what it was. Anyway, Artemisia realized as soon as the body woke up that she had slept more than expected. The clock was already ticking twelve times and there was a wonderful smell of food. It was strange to be standing so late, even if the young woman were to do nothing but paint in the mornings, it was good to enjoy the first few morning hours. Not that the young woman was someone from the mornings, quite the opposite. When she was still living with her mother in the Noctavia's mansion, the girl made a point of getting up as late as she could. Often the mother would take Artemisia's older sisters out to lunch, obviously before the two of them got married. The girl was left in the mansion. She once asked Francesca why they did not take her to lunch too, but her mother kept rambling a

By the end of that afternoon that the young woman spent with Lord Kim, the flowers seemed to have lost their luster, the scent of them had become so subtle that Artemisia no longer felt that freshness of the garden. But she tried not to talk too much about it. Artemisia entered the mansion through the dispensary door, not remembering how, but knew those corridors that made the house's skeleton. A shelter for kittens who were left homeless during storms and winters. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ The girl walked as if she was already part of all that construction, there was something that called her into the buildings. Deeper and deeper into the mansion, digging that huge pit in the hill. Music played softly through the skeleton of the mansion, guiding the girl further and further into that dream. They were piano notes, crying beautifully over that place. The notes told a story, decadent and horrible story. But even though she was clear as a candle, Artemisia did not understand what she

Artemisia felt battered. But what bothered her wasn't that her mother told her it was a mistake that the girl was alive. No. Something deep in her chest said that the woman was right, that life was a greater gift to her that she should receive. Accompanying that I see a memory, something a little painful, but it was real. As much as the girl tried to understand what she was told that other memory was an unknown she couldn't decipher. But the girl couldn't worry about it, not when her mother could convince everyone that her daughter was going crazy, which Artemisia didn't doubt, and that it would be necessary to take her to a place that was well cared for. Artemisia knew her mother had never liked her, but the idea of the woman interning her without more or less, at least for her, was a little too crude. Anyway, if the girl questioned whether or not people were going to make their mistakes, she would go crazy a lot faster than she was starting to get used to. Another memory sto

Artemisia was tired of being unhappy in that mansion. She was beginning to wonder if it was worth leaving that place, fleeing away from Gaul and that family like a thorn bush. She wanted to be able to live at least once in her life. But at the same time as she thought that, the young woman sank into the covers and duvets of the bed, asking herself if she should do something to change that miserable existence. It hadn't. So, Artemisia decided to read the books she had picked up in the library. The book the young woman decided to read was the navy blue cover. It was still weird to hold that book, the "shadows" of aquatic reflections were a little hard to understand, it reminded her of all that seasonal feeling from the day before. The young woman stopped to think a little about it, about that supposed "day before". She forced her own mind, as if squeezing an orange, just to know how the previous day had ended, but she had no answer. Nothing. There was just nothing. The only real