The soul seems to reside in the seat of judgment, while judgment seems to lie where all the senses converge.
—Leonardo da Vinci
At inns, people were always coming and going. Few chose to make one their final resting place.
Whether it was murder or suicide, it affected an inn's business. Yet some inns deliberately fabricated and spread ghost stories to attract paranormal enthusiasts.
Those were usually small inns. Grand hotels, on the other hand, advertised the famous people who had once stayed there.
Wagner eventually died in another hotel, one converted from Vendramin Palace. It stood on a small island, much quieter than St. Mark's, and had now been turned into a casino.
Pomona imagined it was not like Las Vegas, with slot machines everywhere, but rather a place for games like Texas Hold'em.
The emotional entanglement between Wagner and Ludwig II was deeply moving. By refusing the king's advances, Wagner would once again face the same destitution he had endured in Paris.
Yet he refused despite knowing that, and Ludwig II did not retaliate against Wagner for rejecting him.
Though this love took place between two men, it was as tragic and beautiful as Romeo and Juliet's. Only, what stood between them was not a family feud.
Shakespeare said that the lives of good people often turned to morning dew before the flowers on their hats had even withered.
Though Pomona had imagined Ludwig II becoming a vampire, in the end he had still died like any other human.
There was a film called Death in Venice, adapted from a novel. Only, the one who died in the film was a musician. Ludwig II, like morning dew, had been scorched by the rising sun into a wisp of blue smoke and vanished.
In short, when Pomona came downstairs