July 21, 1497, 8pm.
The feeling that something wonderful will happen grows ever stronger. Will it happen tonight? Tomorrow? Soon?
On to another subject, I have heard of a man whose name is Marius de Romanus, and I have been told that he paints. I have passed his palazzo with my gondola before, and I have seen how good his pupils are. I have heard of what he looks like from some of my guests, and I can’t help but wonder when he shall visit my palazzo. Surely he must know that my palazzo is open to all, where men can share their ideas while being merry.
I must go, for I have my duties as hostess to fullfil.
July 22, 1497, 2am
As tired as I am, I must write this down before I forget everything that transpired tonight. My glorious secret has finally been revealed to me. And his name is Marius de Romanus. I cannot fathom the beauty of this man. There is something about him that I cannot explain, but when he entered my palazzo, it was as if I could sense him, and I turned around. I knew him the moment I saw him due to descriptions of some of the men I talked to, and the gossip of the women who had seen him. But their descriptions, though were correct, he looked quite different to me. Even if it was night, his hair was the colour of wheat in the sunshine, and his eyes, oh his eyes! I could get lost in those azure eyes. And when I held his hands in mine it was electrifying. I asked him to paint my picture, and he said he will. I shall wait for it patiently.
How I wish Mamma and Papa were here to see him. They would have approved of him greatly.
I wonder when he shall visit me again?
July 15, 1497
I am tasked to poison someone again tonight. Lorenzo spoke to me over breakfast this morning about the man I will have to kill tonight. I want to stop doing this, having to take another person’s life. It’s disgusting. And yet as I write this with a feeling of dread for tonight, I can’t help but feel that something wonderful will happen, I don’t know when, but I know it will happen. It’s like a wonderful secret will be revealed to me and only me. This is a good kind of anticipation, I must say, like how one waits for their birth anniversary.
Maybe I shall be liberated from my kinsmen, maybe that is the secret. I pray it is.