She didn’t just love it, then. “You are an artist!” Savino said delightedly, picking up a few of the hand-painted cards to look at closer. “They’re beautiful, really quite enchanting,” he enthused, taken by the uniqueness of them, and thinking they somehow revealed more about the young lady’s character - and her opinions of the future - than anything she could quite say herself.
“You really must come to Italy, then,” he agreed a little absent-mindedly, as he wondered whether the hand-painted tarot cards had more of a connection to their creator than cards usually did, and if this affected her readings at all, made them somehow more accurate. It had not sounded like they were, but... “You would love Rome, of course, and Florence for the Uffizi alone. But Venice for the views,” Savino told her with a grin, looking back over at her from the cards he had clasped in his hands. A pity no one got to see them unless they were being used. “It’s a shame you can’t display these.”
“You really must come to Italy, then,” he agreed a little absent-mindedly, as he wondered whether the hand-painted tarot cards had more of a connection to their creator than cards usually did, and if this affected her readings at all, made them somehow more accurate. It had not sounded like they were, but... “You would love Rome, of course, and Florence for the Uffizi alone. But Venice for the views,” Savino told her with a grin, looking back over at her from the cards he had clasped in his hands. A pity no one got to see them unless they were being used. “It’s a shame you can’t display these.”
