The King of Naples by G. L. Billings

Author:G. L. Billings [Billings, G. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Way We Live Publishers
Published: 2024-06-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

A little after two o’clock, Raffaello picked up Gennaro for their visit to the Palazzo Reale. Even at that hour, traffic clogged the streets, filling the air with exhaust fumes. But nothing could detract from the pale pink beauty of the royal palace that dominated the downtown cityscape. A haze hung over the setting, and one could smell the bay in the steady, hot wind. As they walked toward this grand faded beauty, Gennaro was struck by its solidity. A simple iron gate separated the palace from the throbbing life of Naples.

The two visitors walked through the palazzo’s portico as a small band of palace guards, lean and elegant in their pale blue uniforms, brushed by. One of the young guards held open the massive entrance doors, motioning them into the cool stone vestibule.

Raffaello said to Curtis, “When I was here with the Spencers, one of the guards held the door for Signora Spencer. Then as she walked through, he bowed. She nodded back. She did it with such elegance, such style, I think for a moment that the guards actually saw her as royalty. I certainly did.” After a moment, he added, “And I think that Signora Spencer knew it too.”

Gennaro laughed, “She was probably weaving one of her stories.”

Inside, an old woman in a green serge smock sold them tickets from an ebony table rich in gold ormolu. Then she pointed them in the direction of a marble archway.

Walking through a marble hall, Raffaello spoke in hushed tones because of its echoing effect. “As you know, Naples has been ruled by many kings. But this palace is the home of our kings.”

The detective and the guide came to a grand staircase that led upstairs to the throne room and royal apartments. They climbed the broad steps to the landing where the stairs divided. Moving in a complete circle, Gennaro took in the afternoon sun shining on the marble walls, turning them into shimmering skin through which red veins seemed to pulse.

“This is beautiful,” he said to Raffaello.

Then Gennaro pictured Gretta walking beside him and lost himself in the vision. Then stepping through white-and-gold doors into the royal apartments, he followed Raffaello as he looked around the ruby-red brocade chamber. Ceiling-high mirrors multiplied the beauty around him into a kaleidoscope of crystal chandeliers and gold furnishings.

They walked through a series of rooms and a rainbow of colors: red, yellow, orange, gold, lavender, blue, and white. They were like a confection of lavish jewels—each one in a perfect setting.

In one of the rooms, they stopped in front of a clock resting on the marble fireplace. Raffaello rested his hand on the mantle. The clock was from the eighteenth century, inlaid with tiny diamonds, and emeralds highlighted the filigreed hands. “Signora Spencer stood watching the hand jump from black line to black line, each one achieved by the deepest heartbeat of a tick...tick...tick.” Raffaello continued, “She thought it was beautiful. Rather than commenting on the museum, she said, ‘This is the home of the ticking clock.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.