Facade at the end of the street, the church of "Santa Maria della Pace", on the right: one of the giant cut-outs of Sophia Loren which announces, in a provocative way, her last film (That Kind of Woman by Sydney Lumet). The real girl, Simone d'Aillencourt wears the black Carosa dress with a long, fitted torso and full skirt.
Façade au bout de la rue, l'église de "Santa Maria della Pace", à droite : l'une des découpes géantes de Sophia Loren qui annonce, de manière provocante, son dernier film (Une espèce de garce de Sydney Lumet). La vraie fille, Simone d'aillencourt porte la robe noire de Carosa avec un long torse ajusté et une jupe ample.
Since someone else posted their headcanon about Zenos being Emet's son, I can share this thing I wrote forever ago.
Emet and Carosa, relationship of convenience.
Emet-Selch looks at the young woman kneeling prettily before him. He isn't entirely sure what she wants or why she is bothering him about it. She is his grandson's, this body's grandson, he reminds himself irritably, wife and had been for two years now. He recalled Lucius' wife, Hypatia? He didn't care, he stopped caring the moment Lucius had ceased breathing. He had already been lost since Aurora and Drusilla had passed and the loss of their beloved firstborn had been too much for his mind. He wanted to watch this foolish empire he had built tumble and implode on itself, taking the whole of the world and whichever Reflection was ready with it. He wanted to be done with this foolish endeavour, this pitiless existence in which he was eternally bound to. He did not want to deal with a stupid chit.
"What do you want?" He snaps, doing away with all pretence.
She winces, her pretty young face looking troubled and drawn, her eyes averted as though she cannot bear to gaze at him. So she should feel that way, he is like a God to her, and she is an ant to him.
Her voice trembles when she responds. "Your Radiance, I'm at my wits end. I wish so to serve the Empire and the Imperial Family as you have so generously allowed me but…"
He sighs, annoyed and exhausted by this already. "Get on with it, I haven't all day. What has Varis done now?"
She blushes, her face bright red under the harsh magitek lights of the audience chamber they are within. "Our marriage remains unconsummated, your Radiance. I have… I have tried many nights to… to sway his highness, and while we remain close friends, he shows no interest."
"And why bother me about it?" He groans internally, foolish Varis couldn't even manage this, he should have known. Yet surely there were others this wretched creature could bother that didn't involve him. "Does your mother or mother-in-law not have anything to add?"
Her blush somehow deepens. "I have already spoken with them, they have stated baldly for me to do my duty and that is that. I cannot do my duty to produce an heir if the Prince will not look at me that way, let alone touch me." Delicate hands fly up to her mouth and she looks up finally, her eyes wide with horror. "Forgive me, your Radiance, I did not mean to speak so flippant to you."
"No, of course not. I do not see why this concerns me. I am a capable man" More than a man. "But even I do not control my grandson's bedding habits. You're young, pretty, surely you have wiles that could tempt him?"
"Yes, your Radiance. If he liked… my wiles." She looks away. "I'm not his type, I've always known and agreed to this marriage because it was easier to have a friend as a partner than… well." She shrugs and he notices she is wearing a rather low cut dress this day, lower than most women wear in this frigid wasteland he has decided to play with. "I thought I could accept it, that he would give me a child and we would be done…"
"Girl, you are tiring me with this run around. What do I care about any of this?" His preferred choice of how to spend these frigid and hellish last few years in this idiotic role did not extend to listening to his, this body's, grandson's sexual preferences and outlets, nor the whining of a bored chit. He dearly missed Drusilla in moments like this, she had always been the better of the two of them when it came to disharmony. She had been the one who ensured all was well within their home, he had been the one to ensure their legacy, until there was no more legacy worth prolonging. "Speak plainly, or get out of my sight and hope I do not see you again for a very long time."
"Your Radiance is in need of further heirs, Varis will not give me one. There is only my sweet Prince and Prince Titus. I know my duty, I know I'm to provide." She murmurs, looking away. "A Galvus heir, not any others."
He stares at the annoying chit, trying to puzzle what she is saying. He's about to shout at her to get out when it dawns on him and he laughs. Genuinely laughs, the first time in over a decade, maybe even longer. "That sounds very much like treason, my dear."
Her eyes flash up angrily and defiantly, reminding him all too much of his lost lover, Aurora, his beloved sunlight, but surely that was impossible, she couldn't be reborn so close to him again. No, it was a coincidence. He won't look, lest he be disappointed once more. He can't take it to think it might be her but be wrong. He will cloud his vision, he wants no more part of this world until it is whole and she and Hythlodaeus are restored and he can finally, finally sleep and forget everything.
Alberto Fabiani #albertofabiani #fabiani #creatoredellostile #creatoredellamoda #perfettamentechic #felicementechic #lynda
Alberto Fabiani, proveniente da una famiglia di sarti originaria di Tivoli, inizia la sua carriera come apprendista in una casa di moda parigina. Giovanissimo neanche diciottenne i genitori lo mandarono a Parigi a studiare taglio.
Rientrato in Italia, rileva l’attività sartoriale già avviata dai genitori, sotto la propria etichetta. Nel febbraio 1951 partecipa alla storica sfilata nella villa…
