He was neither the honoured Duke nor the elite merchant of Venice.
He was a man of Shakespeare's words, an open book of thousands shattered dreams, he was a man who desired a forbidden love,a paramour , a man with an illicit affair,his affair Lady Katherine.
But we can't accuse dead ones
Isn't it?
He was a dark fairytale in the 1870s .
But a fairytale never lives forever,and so he was, he died closing all the incompleted mysteries ,died taking a oath to find and complete his love story.
He was William Winter, ,an author ,a litterateur,a poet of love ,of passion,of nostalgia.
But he was a past ,caged forever in the Gothic architectures of histories.
He was a selcouth ,a Tacenda perhaps for our good.
Time changes everything,every soul find his fate.
But not his.
His story will begin again ,with more sinister calls
Because he was no more a blood and bone ,he is a shadow and cold now.
A ghost of the 19th century
..............................................................
Being a responsible sister,and the daughter to a poor woodcutter, Lily needs to visit the woods daily,her life is going normal until one-day her father didn't return home.
His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared me.
"You have no idea,who I am,do you? he whispered leaning closer to my ear.
Will the pages of history repeats and William again fails to find his love or
Will he get his love .
Remember everything will turn upside down when the cliche'hero is himself a villian.