@meiinlied
Resting her head on one fist Tilda appeared almost bored as she listened to her old friend. It had been years since she last laid eyes on Lucrezia and the wheel of fate had kept on turning for the both of them. Yet, after only a few hours, Tilda grew quite tired of hearing these stories of Rome and Spoleto. She knew there was something else on Lucrezia’s mind besides politics, there always had been. Buzzing noise from the streets was drifting through the open windows accompanied by a fresh breath of air that made all these papers on the table between them rustle and whisper. So many words, so many stories. Life pressed on and sometimes it scared Tilda, the knowledge that there never was a simple moment of stagnation, of rest... She blinked, shaking her head a little to escape these dire thoughts. With eyes still set on the dreams inside her mind, Tilda once more looked to Lucrezia “Tell me, dear friend, is this really all life has been to you? Politics and power? Last time I saw you, the world held much more beauty. Art, love... scandal. Lucrezia please! Give me news of your brother, of Giulia, something more than the pope’s money and the people’s grain!”, she made her voice sound desperate, laughter gleaming in her eyes. Yes, Tilda knew how important these politics were, how they kept them all alive and their cities at relative peace. But the mind thrived on more, the heart thrived on more...
