Understand My Dreams Logo

Recent dreams containing krst

Menu button

Most viewed dreams

Dreams Collection - Search dreams

Dreams inside the database entered to be analyzed and interpreted - search dreams containing symbols of your dream


Having suspected a spy following Krsto, our

Having suspected a spy following Krsto, our two lovers arrived and left the public park separately. Zsusanna was there to see Krsto more than the play. It was a very humorous play. One of the actors, Romero, plays a man with a bushy beard and stood there holding his hand in triumph as people laughed. Zsusanna realized she knew so few people in that area. She had only Krsto’s circle of friends: a man in in very stylish suede boots, a woman whose voice narrated the story; a woman whose only voice was the melodic tunes of her lyre, and a bewitching siren, Krsto’s cousin. Bewitched by her lover behind stage, she also did not know that she, indeed, was being watched, or that he had caught a glimpse of someone stirring on the sides. Igor wore common clothing to blend with the townspeople, with a hat tilted to a side, and a patch to cover an eye. He hadn’t shaven in over a week to play the part as well. Jealous of Zsusanna’s presence in Edour’s life had become a hinderance for Istven’s aspiring role in the Protestant Reform, and in the next generation’s attempt to rebuild a country free of foreign rule. More so, he was wary of this woman who appeared from an outer circle, who was as equally educated, if not, more so than himself. What was an extraordinary woman doing being wed to a man who had no interest in women? More so, why did Jankovic agree to this farce? “Ugggggg,” as twisted pain seeped through his blood, and the sound of breaking bones, Igor could feel the point of a dagger piercing into the hairs of his neck. “I suggest you take your traitor self back to the Hungarian shit that spawned you. Get off this peninsula, and never show your face again.” “I am free to…” “You are not free to do anything.” and the crunch of a twisted wrist sent him off as two burly men in dark capes took him into a carriage, riding away, as Zsusanna felt desire dripping beneath her skirts. Istven had the scent of Ocean air about him; clean and light. He sat eating nuts and apricots as lightening lit the sky and the rumble of thunder approached. In his presence I am a ship battling a storm, wandering aimlessly. Sex is not okay with Istven. He has confusion around relationships. “What happened to you,” Zhusanna asked as she spotted Igor curdled in a chair by the window, unable to hold a book or turn its pages with bandaged hand and fingers on both sides. It was all he could do but spit at her. Marija found the encouragement to break the silence. “He no doubt wondered where he shouldn’t.” “I trust my cousin played the searing siren to perfection?” “The Adriatic would be, indeed, pleased!” “As your grandfather, as well.” Igor mentions to Zsusanna who looked bewildered at him. “Any sea-faring pirate of Senj would defend such a treasure!” Zsusanna mocked back, “But you wouldn’t know of such lust, Igor.” A bit of tension was building in the room. Zsusanna was not oblivious of Marija’s eye for Istven. She would just happen to appear outside his door in Reijeka or at the piazza, always appropriately placed five feet behind brother Antun or conniving Igor. Antun had studied law at university with Igor and Istven, together, in Austria. Marija was a woman, devious and determined, to get what she wanted. What she wanted was entitlement and Istven was the source for this wanna-a-be. Her dear husband Zoran, an unlucky man once the vows of marriage bound them, sweet, giving, and oblivious to the Upper Hungarian dragons, claiming loss to the Frankopan fortunes when ….was slain with my uncle and grandfather. One of thousands of noble widows dispersed without claims depending on beguiling ways of sanctity. 1693 carriage scene 2 hrs 1693 krsto and who he is 1693 Zsuzana AND ISTVEN BEGIN AFFAIR 1693 MARI POISONS HUSBAND ZORON SAVROVIC, AGE 31, 1693 TRUTH REVEALED KRSTO

Oh, the celebration could be heard as

Oh, the celebration could be heard as I enter the courtyard; people dancing in line, torch light blowing in a slight breeze. “Zsu!” Patrizia gathers me in her arms and draws me into the row of revelers. Joy! Dancing, laughing, and merriment! Excitement on the ground and ecstatic energy in the air! Various beautiful people feel the drink and gaiety. I stop exuberated by the tables of food, famished by the traveling. There is so much to eat ???adjusted to between the drumming, strings, long lines of people holding hands weaving in and out, and around! I can’t decide what not to choose to eat when a tall man stares down at me, smiling. “Hello.” I say. “Hello,” he says back. I grab some prsut, sausage, cheese, and reach for the honey when, “Not yet!” young Lydia grins and pulls me into the weave. Mr. Beautiful quietly reaches for my plate and when I return, I find him sitting licking his fingers. “I would like some more!” “Indeed, as would I!” Returning to the table, with candles, and plates of fruit, cheese, olives, he introduces himself, half shy half forward. “I am kin to Mirabella.” “Kristo, I know of you. You paint.” He puts prsut on her plate and reaches for a wine goblet, ignoring the wine. “Awkward silence,” he finally says. * The night sky lit up, vibrant and full of stars. The moon hung over a branch of her favorite tree when the first guests arrived. Carriages and horses began to align the drive. She left behind the idea that any hope in salvaging what remained of this “marriage” with Istven. Zsuzanna needed to return to her roots for inner guidance and the wisdom of (name of older woman mentor). Musicians played their pipes and strings, drumming set the pace of the dance. Zsuzanna stood gazing out over this Eden when someone grabbed her from behind to join in the line dance. Hoisting her skirts she forgot her woes, and partook in the merriment. Krsto was present. His family held a long loyal alliance with various noble lineage, and he her only kinship with the world he wished to forget.