I SPOKE OF LOVE : THE SECRET OF THE PENDANT

SILK

Chapter: "Silk"

SUNDAY, 20 OCTOBER 1850

Alexander had risen early that morning, the sky still shrouded in the darkness of dawn. He had dreamt for an interminable time of being in Michael's arms, of caressing his long blonde hair and succumbing to a simple yet profound kiss upon the lips. Good heavens, how he longed to feel Michael's skin against his own, to finally experience the protection and mercy of a caress, a glance, or simply waking up to see the new day through the sleepy face of his friend. A mere touch upon his lips would make him yearn to live the infinite. Gazing out of the window, he lost himself among the chimneys, the rooftops, and the tree-lined avenues that opened up to life, whatever it might be. For a moment, he felt upon his body the thrill of Michael's last embrace from the previous year, when they had held each other tightly for a few minutes under the grand colonnade of Palazzo Carignano, behind an architrave, experiencing what every human being has the right to feel—the consciousness of love.

The house was already animated by the voices of the maids and the first whispers of the day. Outside, the sounds of carriages clattered, and the chatter of the washerwomen filled the air. His personal valet had just laid out Alexander's clothes on the bed. "Sir, your mother is in good spirits this morning," exclaimed Francis. "We both know the reason for her happiness, dear Francis!" The young man nodded, a veiled smile playing on his lips. Approaching the drawing room, Alexander heard his mother's firm voice as she conversed with her personal maid, Elizabeth. Entering, he found her smiling, her face illuminated with an expression of satisfaction. She was clearly relieved that her daughter had departed for London.

Despite his heart being filled with concern for his sister, he knew that their uncles in London would aid her. Especially their cousin Robert, always caring and attentive, who would provide all the necessary support. This knowledge gave him a certain tranquillity.

"Good morning, Mother," he said, entering the drawing room.

"Good morning, Alexander," she replied, her smile unwavering. "I am glad to know that your sister is far from Turin, finally. And I am pleased to see you no longer wear that pendant, blessed God!"

"That pendant is called Michael, speak openly, Mother!"

The Countess assumed an authoritative and threatening expression, turning slightly while maintaining a proud composure. She addressed the butler, "Mr. Villa, instruct the servants to leave, including Miss Elizabeth!"

Alexander nodded, trying to hide his worries behind a smile. "Yes, Mother. I am sure she will be well in London."

"My sister Anna will know how to redirect her feelings for that Peter; she has received clear instructions."

"And for my feelings, to whom will you give instructions, Mother?"

"Those are not feelings; they are imprudences against nature that can destroy us. If the King and the Court knew, it would be your end, Alexander, my love. In my time, there was the gallows, and I cannot even think that something might happen to you. However, my stubborn son, you will end up in trouble, and for the sake of our house, I hope it happens abroad so that this vile calamity and shame can be hidden."

The conversation was interrupted by a servant who entered timidly to inform Alexander that he had received a summons from the King to the Little House. His heart pounded harder. "Mother, I must go to the hunting lodge. The King has summoned me."

His mother's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Then do not waste time, Alexander. Go immediately; he must have heard that Amalia is in London."

He prepared quickly and headed to the King's hunting lodge. Upon arrival, he was warmly greeted by the King's aide-de-camp.