Chapter 51 A warm welcome
Two days have passed, and Ginevra's attitude didn't change one bit. But now Cael could be frustrated about it in a different location.
A day before, his father had finally led the army home. An hour before, they had entered the gates of Sanremo di Mare, to be greeted like heroes—with flowers and colorful banners hanging on the route between the main gate of the city and the Oliveira tower.
Inside, a feast waited for the war heroes. Mother's touch was clearly felt in its organizing—from the ornate tablecloth to elaborate ways cheeses and meats were arranged on the plates.
It was HOME.
Then, of course, there was his family. Vittorio grinned to Father like HE defeated Ginevra in direct combat, not Cael. Mother was a picture of propriety, but she came to kiss her husband on the cheek. Cael got a kiss on his forehead—like he was a little boy again.
In front of all the gathered people! Ignazio, Silvio, Father's knights, especially heroic soldiers, their wives, daughters and cousins.
The feast began at noon, prim and proper. But fancy dishes were soon eaten by hungry men, and washed down by fancy wine and less fancy ale. Then the dancing began. Simple country dances—not the kind Mother liked, or Father approved, Cael knew, but the kind that soldiers knew.
Vittorio didn't dance, either. Instead, as soon as there was no one else to distract Father with conversations, he launched one of his own.
"Father! Did you like the meeting at the gates? I and Mother organized it together."
"It was the most warm welcome," Gianni said, throwing his wife a warm look. "You both did well."
"This isn't all, though." Vittorio's eyes sparked with emotion. "Father, while you were off, the Royal Inspector of Finances, Antonio Cattaneo, came with a routine surprise inspection."
Father leaned back in his seat, his eyes widening. Cael took a sip of his wine, feeling like this would be terribly fun to watch.
'Father should scold someone besides me for a change.'
Vittorio kept boasting, seemingly missing Gianni's reaction.
"Father, I didn't tell you about him, because I thought it wasn't worth your notice. He already left. To inspect Enzo Nuvoloso, of all people! It was all my idea. He was so intent on finding faults to bring his superiors—I only had to drop him a hint. It was brilliant, right? Right?"
Gianni closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Emilia, my wife, how…"
"I wasn't going to hover over Vittorio's shoulder and manage his every decision, my dear husband. You told me yourself our boys have to learn. Besides," Emilia lowered her eyes to her cup. "He merely wanted to impress you."
A dusting of pink on Vittorio's cheeks confirmed Emilia's words. The youth himself, though, studiously looked away.
Cael grinned. He had several reasons to, but in the next moment, in a fit of what must have been the relief of being home, chose the one more benign to Vittorio.
"That's great! Now Enzo surely will have other things to do but attack us again. And by the time he could entertain those thoughts again… We will crush him!"
"Yes!" Vittorio exclaimed.
Gianni pressed his lips together. "This was a decision that could yield unpredictable results in the future. The risks… Ah," he waved his hand and took a generous gulp of his drink. "Not today."
Vittorio frowned. Cael caught his eyes and gave him a shrug and a glance that said, 'Yes, he just never changes, doesn't he?'
***
The feast continued late into the night. Guests fell asleep where they were or found themselves guest rooms to occupy on their own or with someone else. Mother and Father excused themselves. Vittorio drank too much wine and snored on a sofa—the lightweight.
Cael wandered the tower's halls, more than a bit drunk. But not so drunk that he couldn't move his legs in a straight line.
As long as he held onto a wall, at least.
He didn't know where his legs were carrying him, but he knew where his thoughts went.
'System, System, System! Tell me, why can't Ginevra just… understand! Hey, I have an upgrade left, don't I? Can I purchase Ginevra?'
'No, Cael. At this moment, you can't purchase anything. For the sake of your welfare, I don't allow purchases while you are in an intoxicated state.'
Cael pursed his lips. 'You are no fun. Hey, are you a girl, System?'
'I'm a magical construct, and my creator hadn't assigned me any gender.'
'What? So you can't give tips on what girls like? Wait, you have the tips from my past-future-self. Did he leave tips on any girls? Did he have a wife? One of us did. How did he get her?'
'I'm sorry, Cael, but my creator had left no information about these topics in my memory.'
Cael sighed with disappointment. 'Maybe a talent? Ah… There's no talent, either? Right?'
'At the moment, you don't meet requirements for any of the talents or spells that allow mind control, Cael.'
'Mind control? Fuck mind control! I just want Gin to—'
Cael paused in his inward ranting. His legs have brought him to the tower's dungeon—underground. The depth allowed for additional enhancements of the prison cells, designed to contain all but the strongest mages. As long as they wore their shock collars.
"<Light, come forth!>" Cael muttered, summoning a light spell. There were magical lanterns around, but not enough to fully banish the darkness.
He ventured forth. The dungeon warden let him through without a question—as it should have been.
Ginevra's cell was far from the entrance and any neighbors, and as abominably tiny as when Cael watched Father's men deposit her there. But, at least it was clean, dry, warm and had a pallet she could lie on. Or sit on—since she wasn't tied up anymore.
She was sitting now. A good sign—a sign of her returning strength. When Cael opened the tiny window in the cell's door, Ginevra raised her head to squint at him.
"What? I've been fed and watered today already. If you have come to stare at me in silence again, you are wasting your time."
Yes. Yes, he was. Cael needed something else.
He needed keys to this cell.
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