TWELVE Ch 10

Gallienus frowned because Nicole’s behavior—pulling his hand back as if to withhold the letter—was a breach of etiquette. Nicole, however, was oblivious to this, his eyes fixed on Romeo in nervous scrutiny.

Nicole had come looking for Gallienus to report the matter of Vittorio’s letter, but the office had been empty. He had come to the mess hall assuming he would find him there, and it just so happened that Romeo was with him.

Because Nicole knew Romeo was blind, he assumed the Captain would find it difficult to read. Having received his orders primarily through Gallienus, Nicole rarely faced Romeo directly and was debating whether he should simply hand the letter to the adjutant instead.

“I brought this because I thought it necessary to report, sir. Would you like to see it after you’ve finished eating? Or right now…”

“Is that a letter in your hand?”

“Yes. Would you like to check the contents?”

Romeo reached out his hand, having seen a blurred outline of something held in Nicole’s grasp. Hesitantly, Nicole handed the crumpled, blood-stained paper to Romeo. He looked speechless as he watched Romeo bring the letter incredibly close to his eyes.

“…”

Romeo brought the paper so close it nearly touched his nose, reading the contents slowly, character by character. To Nicole, it looked as though the Captain was burying his face in the letter.

As Nicole stared at the bizarre sight, unable to hide his expression, Valeria asked pointedly, “Sergeant, have you eaten?”

“No, not yet, ma’am.”

Nicole answered Valeria, then tried to calm his flustered heart and quietly observed Romeo. His eyes fell upon the hands holding the paper; the neat, ivory-colored nails gave off an air of refined elegance. Beyond the paper covering his face, Nicole could see a pale ear framed by black hair and a slender jawline. Despite the bruises, the line of his jaw was smooth and pleasing to the eye.

There was no denying the fact that Romeo possessed an appearance so striking that one couldn’t help but steal glances. Of course, he lacked the piercing gaze that overwhelmed onlookers or the commanding gestures of a great leader. If some men were born with the inherent qualities of a soldier, Romeo was not one of them.

He was a man like a painting.

An elegant man with black hair, blue eyes, and a voice like a song.

He was the kind of beauty who could be the protagonist of a love poem inscribed on a philter found in an apothecary’s cart roaming the back alleys of Bacci. He looked like he belonged in romantic verses or plays about fated encounters.

“Sergeant.”

However, he was a superior officer and a blind man. He was not someone to be secretly ogled while indulging in idle thoughts about his looks.

“Yes, Captain.”

Romeo lowered the letter and looked up at Nicole. From Romeo’s gaze, Nicole guessed what he was about to say.

“Incinerate it with the body.”

Nicole took the letter back, thinking foolishly that perhaps the last words a man spoke before death should be delivered. Nicole had heard of Giovanni’s reputation and knew the full details of the case, but he didn’t realize that giving pen and paper to a political prisoner was a mistake. Nicole was a boy of only nineteen.

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

Nicole bowed to Romeo, Valeria, and Gallienus in turn and walked away. Watching his retreating figure, Valeria spoke with an intrigued tone.

“It seems that Nardi fellow and Sforza really did have a special relationship.”

Romeo hadn’t felt the need to keep Giovanni’s request for secrecy because the nature of their relationship was bound to come to light during the reporting of the interrogation. Though he hadn’t spread rumors, most officers were already aware of the situation.

The day after Giovanni’s arrest, news of his capture had spread through Bacci like wildfire, along with rumors about Vittorio. Romeo didn’t care how Giovanni intended to suppress those rumors. He didn’t feel responsible for the scandal Giovanni suffered. He only thought that if the Consul strengthened censorship of the universities in Bacci because of this, they would have to devise a way to monitor them more thoroughly.

“What was written in the letter?”

Romeo fumbled to pick up the spoon on his plate. However, he had no desire to eat, so he set it back down and cupped his aching jaw with his hand.

“Nothing that required misinterpretation or decoding. It contained the kind of words a lover might say.”

If it had been Lieutenant Colonel Monte, he would have pointed out that such a report was unnecessary, but Romeo believed Nicole was simply following protocol by bringing the letter to him.

“What did it say exactly?”

When Valeria asked with curiosity, Romeo removed his hand from his jaw and answered.

“‘I am glad to have met you. Please do not forget me, Giovanni.’ That is what it said.”

The bugle call rang out from the highest watchtower of the base at dawn.

“I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman. How can a mole on the tip of someone’s nose be that charming? And her smile? I felt dizzy just watching her from afar. So I went up and spoke to her. I asked if she could spare some time tomorrow night for dinner. And do you know what she said? She said she wasn’t from Bacci, but a jeweler from Savoca. She said she left Savoca at dawn and arrived in Bacci early this morning just to sell some jewels. She said she had to go back to Savoca tomorrow morning, so she couldn’t eat with me. But I saw her on Molvena Street two days ago! She is a jeweler, alright. She was running a shop that looked over ten years old with her father!”

Walking between Marco and Valeria, Romeo stared at the ground while enduring the pain in his lower back.

“Good grief. To tell a lie like that.”

The evening street was crowded as the twilight descended.

After finishing his meal, Romeo had intended to return to his office to handle the paperwork he hadn’t finished yesterday, but he had been caught by Marco on the stairs. Marco said he was planning to go to a tavern on Salatico Street with Valeria. Romeo wanted to refuse, but he couldn’t win against Marco’s logic that “liquor tastes better the more people there are to drink it.” Had Gallienus been there, he would have been caught too, but Romeo had eaten dinner alone this evening.

All day, the events in the drapery shop alley with the man in the black cloak had haunted him. He remembered the sensation of the hands gripping his thighs and buttocks and the golden eyes he had seen in the dark. His heart would suddenly race with the fear that the man might remember his face. Unable to believe that the rape had happened only last night, he would occasionally touch the wounds on his neck hidden by his uniform collar.

As the sun set and night approached, thoughts different from those of the day scrambled his mind.

He had been raped, and no matter what happened, that fact would not change. Thinking that, he decided it was better to be among Marco and Valeria’s chatter. So he followed them. It was difficult to walk because of the pain between his legs, but he tried his best to ignore it and act normal.

“Can you understand how I feel, Romeo? Eh? Can you understand me?”

On the way to the tavern, Marco told him about the beautiful woman he had met on the street a few days ago. Marco, who was tall enough for the crown of his head to touch the top of an office door frame, put his arm around the much smaller Romeo’s shoulder and rolled his eyes fiercely; his unkempt, dark brown hair looked as dry as an animal’s mane.

The moment Marco’s arm touched him, Romeo flinched and dropped his head, but he soon relaxed, realizing there was no need for alarm.

“…Yes, I understand.”

Out of an unconscious drive to protect and hide his body, Romeo had layered several extra pieces of clothing under his uniform. His ribs ached with a stinging pain, and when he placed a hand on his chest, the skin beneath his layered tops felt raw.