Carlo's lesson ended not too long after. Or rather, he left after about fifteen minutes, leaving the boys there to cultivate so he could go for a ride and enjoy the rest of the day. The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. And, just to be verbose, the day after that and the one after that too. In short, it was certainly a tough week for the first-year recruits. Useful, without a doubt, but full of blasphemies of various intensities and colors.

Carlo's days, on the other hand, had started to become more interesting. In addition to his usual routine, in which he trained the boys in the morning and did exercises with the ever-available Graziano Mitteri after lunch, he also went on trips to the Academy's Library, the Alchemy Department also of the Academy, and, just when boredom had the best of him, even through the streets of Asparetto.

However, rather than talking about the fight that broke out at the Inn of the Goose because of a comment he made that was poorly received by other customers, or that night when he slapped four relatively innocent people, I would say it would be more interesting to focus on something else.

The aforementioned Mitteri, for example, found himself in a less than idyllic situation due to a series of letters he had received in the last few days. Unfortunately, his venerable grandfather was quickly approaching the end of his days, despite being an incredibly respected Cultivator in his homeland. And, of course, several groups within the family had already started pulling the right strings so that the role of the new Patriarch could go to the second son rather than our Graziano.

That being said, it was also worth mentioning that he himself was not very interested in the matter. His father and mother had both died a few years earlier due to a nasty accident and, honestly, the responsibilities that had weighed on their shoulders when they were still alive seemed too much for Graziano; let alone becoming the head of the family. Or, at least, that's what another subject with problems in other departments, the courageous Ugo Grapetti, knew about his friend.

In fact, on that slightly gloomy day when the wind had decided to annoy people, Graziano had to go to the meeting requested by the sender of the letter accompanied, a bit like a minor would have to do to enter a strip club. The laws of Asparetto on public acts in obscene places were nice, but let's skip that topic for now.

"Do you think she's taking too long? Maybe there were some problems?" Ugo started to ask after waiting silently inside the private room of the chosen venue, sipping his non-alcoholic drink with his hand slightly shaking involuntarily. Graziano seemed to snap out of his moment of distraction once Ugo repeated his questions a second time, but the only thing he did was pick up his own drink and start drinking.

Being involved in political affairs had already stressed him out more than a three-day training session could have done, and to make matters worse, the refined atmosphere inside the venue was starting to suffocate him. Of course, the fact that everything was paid for by the sender of the letters allowed him to breathe a little easier, but from his point of view, this was only a meager consolation.

The scheduled time for the meeting officially passed when the clock's hands on the wall inside the room reached ten thirty in the morning, ticking past that hour one second at a time. And, of course, the knowledge of the other party's delay only worsened poor Ugo's anxiety, now more worried than before. "Do you think we should try calling her? Don't you think so? Eh, don't you think? Don't you think?" he went on to ask Graziano, while with his eyes he looked, repeatedly, first at the empty couch on the other side of the table and then at the still-closed door further back.

Ugo's companion, or rather it would be better to say his subordinate in public, sighed in front of that river of words and difficult-to-interpret moans. Then he replied, opening his mouth for the first time since they had met at the Academy gates: "It's better to avoid it. Most likely she's doing all this without her family's consent… as always, actually." He closed his speech with a hint of bitterness in his voice, considering how much that girl had already helped them in the past and, because of this, had already received criticism from her relatives.

"But, but..." Ugo, however, did not give up, trying everything he could to have an excuse to leave the place, get some fresh air, use the Communication Stone calmly to call one of the girl's waitresses, and then, still calmly, return to the place. All of this with the not-too-insignificant possibility, in fact, of wasting too much time between one thing and another and returning when the meeting had already concluded without him.

However, his aspiration to cut loose shattered at the moment when the entrance door opened slowly, while Ugo was still trying to stammer his arguments about it.

Through the doorway entered first a beautiful girl who shouldn't have been much older than Ugo and Graziano. However, unlike those two desperate guys, just her way of walking and her face partially obscured by a veil of thin fabric made it clear the type of environment in which she had been raised. Her fair skin and long blonde hair, almost too light to be called golden, that fell beyond her shoulders, apart from making the veil she had put on to go ‘unnoticed’ useless, made her figure even more fascinating. A type of beauty that would have forced even the most faithful man to remain fixed for a few moments to look at her.

However, they didn't pay attention to her, having seen her several times since they were all children. Even though... Even though Ugo still had a weakness in his heart for her slender legs, he obviously would never have mentioned that to anyone. So, her welcome was quite cold, despite the fact that the linen dress she was wearing was both very beautiful, from her point of view, and brand new. Another detail that, among other things, made that damn veil doubly useless, which, fortunately, she quickly took off once she set foot in the private room.

That being said, the refined-looking blonde girl still greeted the two with a "Good morning," said with a kind smile and a gaze, not entirely without expectation, fixed on Graziano. However, just like Ugo, the boy in the eye of the storm greeted her with normal words of courtesy, focusing his attention instead on the man behind the girl. "Francesca," Graziano said, looking not very serene. "Who's that?" he added, placing the half-empty glass on the table with a sharp tap.

The girl smiled slightly, saying, "First, wouldn't it be better to sit down?" and making way for the guest she had brought with her to the armchairs. "Oh... Have you already ordered for me too? How kind..." she continued when she saw a transparent glass full of colored liquid with ice and a slice of lemon.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Yes, we ordered the usual for you when we arrived," Graziano said, still immobile and intent on observing every little move of the newcomer, adding later, after the stranger in question sat down: "But we avoided choosing a drink for him. We didn't know what to get him after all," crossing his arms in front of his chest, annoyed by the perpetual merchant's smile that the other still had on his face.

“No problem, no problem,” the man replied, fluttering his hand in front of himself with an extremely friendly tone of voice. Actually, too friendly in my opinion. Before Francesca could steer the conversation back on track and maybe order something else to drink or eat to ease the tension, Graziano asked, “So, who are you and what do we have the pleasure of having you here for?” not showing his usual cheerful character at all. Although perhaps it was to be expected, given that his family was involved.

“Oh, I'm not an individual worthy of a name,” the man said shortly after, slightly widening his smile. “In my line of work, having a name can be a real danger,” he continued, taking a sealed white envelope from his jacket pocket and placing it on the table, pushing it towards Graziano with two fingers. “Please call me Carta for now. A humble trader of news and rumors who has stumbled upon some information worthy enough to be sold.”

The air in the room quickly became quite heavy. So much so that even the waitress of the venue, a girl who had already been instructed on how things worked when it came to guests of the private rooms, opened and closed the entrance door as soon as she saw Graziano's face. After all, the boy already had a fairly massive physique that easily caught the eye, and the rigid expression he had at that moment certainly didn't improve the poor waitress's impression of him.

That being said, Graziano took the envelope and opened it before Francesca could say anything about it. He read its contents slowly, focusing on each word so as not to misinterpret any passages. Then, once he finished, he put the paper back in the envelope and placed it back on the table. He then said, "Do you really intend to meddle in my family's affairs? Do you want me to cut off your head?" mixing with some skill the calm and polite manners of his movements with a not-so-funny malice.

In the face of this scene, poor Ugo silently sought Francesca's help, moving his mouth without saying anything or using brief head movements to send coded messages. She understood what her friend was trying to communicate, but she didn't even have time to say anything because, just like before, Graziano's booming voice interrupted the first syllables of her words, asking, "So? Do you plan to keep that smile on your face for much longer?" completely ignoring Francesca.

"Oh... please don't see my services as a challenge, it wouldn't be useful to you in any way," Carta then said, placing both arms on the armrests of the armchair. "You see, the current situation of your family is... how can I say... complicated. Yes, that's it, complicated," Carta continued, completely at ease in that tense environment. "You see, my client does not want an important family like the Mitteri to see their end come from an internal conflict or external interference. That's why I was designated to inform you of the information I was able to gather. In addition to this, I can assure you that neither I, as an information dealer, nor my client desire any harm to come to your family."

Carta certainly spoke at length, sweetening the tone he used almost as if he had coated his tongue with honey. A way of expressing himself that made Graziano feel nauseous, who in response only said, "Very well. If your task can then be considered completed, then the door behind you is where you should go. Get up and leave. You are no longer needed here."

To tell the truth, Carta was slightly surprised by his interlocutor's behavior. Before this meeting, I spent the right amount of time observing him, but this is the first opportunity I have to observe this side of his character. He might not be a perfect pawn, he thought, getting up from the armchair with a gesture totally devoid of any haste. However, even if we are not able to get our hands on the Gatto… well, just being able to collect the Blessed Body from a Clan weakened by internal conflict would be more than enough. He continued to reflect as he turned to leave, never changing the cordial expression that had accompanied him since his arrival.

"Very well," he then opened his mouth to say goodbye, adding, "Then I wish you good luck and a dignified life. Oh, Miss Francesca, please don't worry about paying for my services. My client has already been very generous. I don't need any further compensation," nodding to the three still sitting before closing the door behind him and disappearing.

"You can never keep your hands where you should, can you?" Graziano then said, turning to Francesca, before looking back at the envelope he had placed a little earlier and squeezing it in his left hand. The poor girl was hurt by that comment said so abruptly. She had worked so hard to try to be of help, and this was her reward?

"Don't think I did it for fun," she replied shortly after, relaxing her jaw that she had been clenching moments before with all her strength. "We always knew your brother would make his move at the first opportunity. Do you realize that his mentor was your father's brother's son? I'd be surprised if your family didn't serve dishes with more poison than salt once he returns home. And," at that moment Francesca paused for a moment to catch her breath and, reluctantly, speak of someone who had always annoyed her. "Do I need to remind you that the girl chosen for your marriage is not only infertile but also unable to cultivate? Actually, that's the least of it. Do you realize the ties she has with the family-"

Altered for this or that reason, Graziano stopped Francesca's cutting tongue with a punch on the wooden table. The poor table broke clean with a dry sound of money thrown out the window. "Francesca," he said calmly once he had regained his composure, standing up abruptly. "I don't care if our families are tied together. Even if there were a succession change in a small clan like mine, it wouldn't change much for you, would it? Or am I wrong, Francesca Giardino of the Great Southern Family of Asparetto?" Saying what was on his mind in one fell swoop, he left the room without giving the girl a chance to retort.

Then, too late for Graziano to hear, Francesca reciprocated the courtesy by sharply pulling off an armrest, crushing the wood between her fingers and reducing it to a mixture of elongated fibers. "Francesca... Francesca, calm down... Calm down..." All while Ugo did his best to calm her; but without ever getting too close, let's be clear.

“I'll rip his eyes out the next time I see him... damn bastard... how dare you... I'll twist your arm until it comes off your shoulder... ugly bastard..." Of course, Ugo's efforts were in vain. However, a handful of minutes later, the kind Francesca began to regain control of her actions and words, returning to the exquisite girl with refined manners who had entered the room some twenty minutes ago.

“And you, as his superior, can't you tell him anything? Useless piece of shit, how can you let the successor of a family of your servants do whatever the hell he wants?" Or perhaps that beautiful girl had not yet returned, hard to say. Even though, from poor Ugo's point of view, the girl in front of him had always been the same, more or less, since that side...well, let's say too noble of her character had always been something that only came out when the two of them were alone. Not even when Graziano was added, did the very kind Francesca show herself in the same way.

One more reason for Ugo to separate his interest in her legs from the rest of her body and character, but that's beside the point. Although I have to say that the words, and especially the insults, that flew in that room, in one direction obviously, in the next ten minutes were incredibly entertaining. But I don't feel like describing them, it would be a bit too vulgar.