－Venice, 1782

Venice suits me—a city of shadows and masks. Here, I am invisible. Yet there is a mortal who’s disturbed my solitude, one who moves through these streets with a gaze that lingers on small details: a stone gargoyle, the play of light on water. They walk with a wonder I have not felt in centuries.

I follow them now, unseen, drawn to the innocence they possess, a purity of spirit that haunts me. I am tempted to speak, to reveal myself, but I know that to do so would mar the beauty I so admire. And so, I remain hidden, a silent watcher in Venice's shadows, bound by a yearning I dare not fulfill.