Chapter 366: Bella Italia
I hadn’t put much thought into it, because everywhere I had been both in this life and the previous one, had English as their main means of communication.
Today was Wednesday, the third of July.
"How fast the days go."
I tried to recall if there was a church festival or event happening on this date, but came up with nothing. The only possible conclusion was that the cathedral had celebrated this morning’s mass in English for our sake, and now that it was over, I was back out in the wild world, left to fend for myself in the midst of Italians.
"I strongly doubt it was just us. There must have been other groups present."
Echo!!
Observing people’s lips, Italian words spilling from them, I scraped off my initial idea of asking for directions and began sweeping through the buildings around me. My lips tightened at some of the sights I came across, especially with how close some of the acts being performed were to the church.
"Too big."
"Crowded."
"Not bad."
I had to push my reach for over twenty meters to find what I wanted. Just as I thought I had located a manageable option, my senses brushed against something unusual, something unique, and I had no choice but to explore.
It took a few seconds, but suddenly my feet began moving in that direction. As the distance between me and the cathedral grew, I turned back for a moment, my eyes catching its tall tower and shining silver bell.
The urge to sweep through the church and learn all of its secrets raged within me. But I valued my life and the fragile peace I currently enjoyed. Knowing that the church trained and retained knights and witches was enough reason to behave in their center of power. Lia Caster had already been able to pick up on my use of Echo—I wasn’t about to trigger some grand knight on standby and end up with my head cracked open.
I wish I could say I blended in as I moved, but my lighter choice of clothing made me stand out, drawing eyes in my direction. Anyone else would have immediately switched their wardrobe after London, but with my much tougher body, I hadn’t even noticed the change in climate.
Reminding myself to update my wardrobe after breakfast, I kept walking for several minutes, enjoying the sights. Italian house architects clearly had splendid ideas, and their buildings carried a distinct charm. Eventually, I stepped into Bella Italia.
It wasn’t a restaurant but a café, and what had drawn me there wasn’t its beauty or the modern seats. The café was small, boasting just eight tables, and at the moment, only two were occupied despite it being morning. That alone could be concerning.
Pushing open the glass door, a small jingle rang throughout. I stepped into the warm room, a shiver of pleasure running through me. My body might not suffer from the cold, but it could still recognize when it had been taken into a familiar, cosy space.
The walls were painted in a mix of red and blue, and the furniture was a deep brown. I couldn’t resist dragging a finger across one of the tables as I walked past, its shiny surface inviting to the touch. From my position, I spotted an attendant already noting my presence, her eyes quickly studying me with sharp curiosity.
"What kind of café is this?"
My initial plan had been to take a seat at the far end of the room, but then my attention was caught by the occupied table to my right, just beside the window.
"Okay, bye."
She was female, her red hair bundled up and clipped neatly with a pin. Her skin was pale white, the pure European type. Among the two customers present, she was the one who held my attention.
Dressed in a thick black fur coat, I had initially dismissed her, uninterested in a woman I couldn’t communicate with. But as I looked closer, for all her beauty and the delicate touch she gave to her hair, she wore no accessories, no necklace, no bracelets, not even nail polish. From her neck to her wrists, she was bare.
"Excuse me, may I join you?"
The woman turned to look at me, the red hue in her eyes startling me. With a small smile, she nodded.
The cushioned seat was comfortable, but I barely noticed. Leaning back slightly, I introduced myself.
"Marcus Lawson." I stretched out a hand.
Nodding, the woman grasped it. The feel of her palm sent a shudder through me before she retracted. After that gesture, silence lingered for nearly a full minute. Eventually, I shook my head.
"I’m not sure how it’s done here in Italy, but where I’m from, when someone offers their name, you give yours in return."
Surprise flickered across her face, followed by a faint blush.
"I am so sorry," she laughed lightly, a hand rising to cover her face in embarrassment.
"I’m Romano Chiara."
This time she extended her hand first, and we shook once more.
"We do the same here in Italy. I’m sorry, I just thought you already knew who I was."
Normally, one would take that as arrogance, but the mirth in her tone told me it was nothing more than a misunderstanding.
"Oh, so you’re a popular individual. An artist, maybe?"
I started small talk with Chiara, and it was during that exchange that the waiter came over to me.
It wasn’t long before my meal was served: cornetto, maritozzo, jam, and a cappuccino. I was starving and intended to fill my belly properly that morning.
As the meal arrived, I paused before digging in, narrowing my eyes at the food.
"What do you think of the food here?" I asked Chiara while picking up a bun.
What had truly attracted me to Bella Italia was its food. From miles away, I couldn’t taste it, but with Echo, I had picked up on its faint addition of Ichor.
This physical energy wasn’t just in the food, but also in the very air around me. Rome was already proving itself to be a very mysterious place.