Portacandele europeo in ferro bianco
Malmaison 1804
Malmaison, Spring 1804 —
I rested on the delicate table in Queen Josephine’s private garden, where the breeze carried the scent of roses into her hair. The last light of day wrapped the garden in a golden glow. She wore a silk gown, and her golden crown caught the sun, completing her grace. Across the garden, her friends filled the air with bright, carefree laughter— their joy drifting like a light bird through the air. But Josephine sat apart, lost in quiet thought, her eyes fixed on somewhere beyond the garden. I was there, right beside her hand, while candlelight danced over white porcelain and an envelope. In her fingers was a letter, its edges gently worn: “To my beloved Josephine… I will love you always.” From those words came the echo of Napoleon’s voice and the scent of gunpowder from the battlefield. That evening, her crown felt light; it was love and longing that weighed on her heart. And she was only a woman, tasting love in the flicker of candlelight… unaware of what tomorrow would bring.
I am the candle holder, Josephine. From the spring of 1804 to this very day, I have kept the light alive. Light is eternal… it only changes its place.
I rested on the delicate table in Queen Josephine’s private garden, where the breeze carried the scent of roses into her hair. The last light of day wrapped the garden in a golden glow. She wore a silk gown, and her golden crown caught the sun, completing her grace. Across the garden, her friends filled the air with bright, carefree laughter— their joy drifting like a light bird through the air. But Josephine sat apart, lost in quiet thought, her eyes fixed on somewhere beyond the garden. I was there, right beside her hand, while candlelight danced over white porcelain and an envelope. In her fingers was a letter, its edges gently worn: “To my beloved Josephine… I will love you always.” From those words came the echo of Napoleon’s voice and the scent of gunpowder from the battlefield. That evening, her crown felt light; it was love and longing that weighed on her heart. And she was only a woman, tasting love in the flicker of candlelight… unaware of what tomorrow would bring.
I am the candle holder, Josephine. From the spring of 1804 to this very day, I have kept the light alive. Light is eternal… it only changes its place.
The Spark
Two souls, one shared dream
The Creation
Capturing the warmth of an inner flame
The Legacy
Every flame carries a story
Scene 1 from the story of Portacandele europeo in ferro bianco
Scene 2 from the story of Portacandele europeo in ferro bianco
Scene 3 from the story of Portacandele europeo in ferro bianco
Home Candle – Timeless Elegance & Enduring Grace