17th April 1563

The moment Annibale stepped into the cafe, just during the mid-afternoon. Filled to the brim. If he didn’t hear that someone had already gone forward to get a table for them, and they had arranged with someone beforehand.

“Annibale?” Amara asked, turning to look at the man. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m not here for business, it’s something else,” he replied. “I think I’m looking for a Signore Messina.”

“He’s right there, with the large table. He always takes it, since he said that they were discussing a reunion,” Amara said. In a moment, she gave him a smile. This was something about him.

“Thank you,” he said. He walked to the table, to a man occupied with reading a thick tome. Beside him was an entire block of paper and a pen that he could write.

He opened the chair and took a seat. Annibale tried to get his former classmate, Pasquale’s attention, but it didn’t work. He took a moment to observe what Amara did. It was peaceful. They were talking. They had heated disagreements and discussions, almost the sort that could destroy friendships.

And then it dominated the atmosphere, Pasquale looking up to find the source of annoyance, to a group around three tables away.

Amara stepped right in front of them, her arms folded. “Please quieten down or you must leave.”

She warned them before turning her head around. Pasquale turned to look at Annibale.

“This has to be the first time that you’ve been early,” Pasquale said, flipping a page.

“I have some incentive to be early,” he said, shrugging.

Annibale dressed in a cotton suit, nothing too expensive in the spring weather. Annibale had mostly stuck to silk on such days, or Copytian cotton.

“What would you like?” A server asked him, coming to him once he was there.

He gave his order for a cup of coffee, and a simple pastry to go. Pasquale had one cup of coffee.

“And another cup of his order.” The server jotted down his order.

Pasquale looked at Annibale, wondering whether this was a bribe.

“I’m treating everyone here today,” Annibale answered.

“Where did you go for all this while?” Pasquale asked, putting his book down. Annibale disappeared for quite a while.

“I mostly focused on my own business for the past year,” he said, putting his knees together. It was hard to justify, but he had merely forgotten about it.

“You didn’t even have the time to care about the reunion?” He asked. “You weren’t considering continuing school?”

“That was before everything,” Annibale said. He had thought about it, but that had been when his father was still alive. His parents would not have allowed him to just go straight into business, but they weren’t here and he figured that he could enjoy it.

“I don’t think you would have liked the work, but would have enjoyed the parties,” he said.

“Finally, you finally show your face,” Emiliano said. He dragged the chair, causing a creaky sound.

He was a young man, the same age as Annibale, wearing a sack coat and a flat cap. He was the fourth son of a well-to-do family; Emiliano would need to figure out his own place in the world. He was the closest friend that Annibale had in school.

He didn’t meet his eyes for a moment. “The date clashed with a major deal I had to settle, but I’m here now.”

Annibale gave a smile, one that both of them knew was insincere. He just didn’t know how to put it to any better words he could have found the time to come, but he just couldn’t figure it out.

“He is sponsoring the liquor, and he’s also footing the bill for this meeting.” Pasquale flipped through the pages. Now, he had gotten all that he needed.

“Well, that forgives a lot.”

Emiliano took a seat beside his friend, asking for a cup of a fairly expensive drink.

“How are the preparations for your part in the reunion?”

“Well, I have gotten some guests to perform. Mostly because it’s their contribution, and a couple of games, mostly with cards. Other than that, I don’t think we need anything else,” he said. These suggestions were all superb given that it’s a reunion, mostly for them to get together, drink, eat and play a couple of games.

They decided the location a while back, Annibale didn’t join in on that one. Mostly because the person whose name he remembered as Bertram offering the location was not one that he liked.

The man had been an excellent student, but he didn’t like Annibale for his rather dubious character. Likewise, few liked him, for he enjoyed tattling on people. But for some strange reason volunteered a location for them, but it was a good offering.

Bertram tagged along with Guillaume, and Annibale looked as he came in, his eyes glancing right past Annibale.

“Monsieur Gerber,” he said in fluent Rancien. Even as quite a lot of them were of Itorian origins, and a large portion came from Rancie, it was not uncommon for them to have some from the local region.

“Signore de Moreni,” Bertram said, in Itorian.

Things were tense, even as Pasquale took a seat with him. And the server came over.

“What is he contributing?” Bertram asked Guillaume, who had taken a seat opposite him. And Bertram, across Emiliano. Pasquale had a table to himself, since he insisted on putting his book and work on the table.

Guillaume came over, being the man who had planned and found people, having done it for two years straight. His suit, not expensive, with a tie instead of a cravat.

“He’s helping with the beer, which I have a confirmation order for.”

“It should come on the day,” he said. “I’ll be bringing them over.”

Annibale was going to use some of his workers, since he bought a tad extra, just for them and as payment for their work. He had mostly asked them for volunteers to help.

“Thank you, that would be of great help,” Guillaume said. “Tell me if you need more people.”

“I will, but in most cases, I do not think so,” Annibale replied.

“Bertram, an update regarding the location and the catering?”

“If that is what we need to do,” Bertram said. “So far, the rooms we have booked have certain rooms. Someone has to be there to clean up the rooms after he expects it to spotless by the time we leave. No one will bother us for the duration,”

“I know who to pass to for the cleanup, although all of us would pitch in,” he said. “What would be the penalty if it is dirty?”

“Easy, we get chased out and we pay for the cleanup of the entire room.” Guillaume wasn’t fazed, perhaps knowing what he needed to do to institute some rules. Even as most might admit that telling them to a crowd was about to party wouldn’t be too good.

A pastry had come for him, where he picked up and then ate it with a fork, paying more attention to it than the discussion. It was a reunion, Annibale doubt that it was going to be nerve-racking or they were difficult to please.

“Can I see the layout of the rooms they have given us?” Emiliano asked. It being obvious that this was what he did, since he was planning the games. The layout will affect the placing and the planning.

Bertram unrolled a piece of paper, placing in on the table. Pasquale put it down to look. He dealt with the finances of the reunion.

Annibale could see that they had gotten a large room, able to easily feet around a hundred people. It was around the borders of the Itoro and Helseen, close to their school.

Emiliano studied the plan.

“I suppose that the tables can easily be for a few card games, although I’m reasonably sure that they are going to gamble, I don’t even need to guess. It’s cards,” he said. “There’s space, a little for the food, which I heard that a friend of yours has been getting, Bertram.”

“It’s a good friend of mine, Arnold, who has a connection with an excellent chef who can come down to prepare the food during the day,” Bertram said. “He’ll be footing the bill.”

“That settles most of it,” Guillaume said. He seemed a little more relieved, the timing was just a week off. Now, they no longer needed to worry about a great deal for each other. This was more than enough for them.

Once they finished, Bertram excused himself from the shop. “I need to go back to university.”

“I have business that I need to attend to,” Guillaume said. There was little else to discuss amongst them. He got up to deal with his other matters.

Annibale had caught the eyes of another server, ordering two more baked goods. Since he could go right back to sampling it. Emiliano, sitting by his side, took a brief glance at him.

“Aren’t you busy?” Emiliano asked, raised his eyebrow. Remembering how he had only sent letters to him, and even those had been sporadic.

“I’m kind of conducting business?” He asked. He wasn’t here for business, but he could easily use it to his own advantage.

Emiliano took a moment to take in. “Are you planning to invest in this cafe?”

“Yes, they came to me and so I’m thinking a little about it.” Another plate of pastry came, this being his third.

“That’s kind of random, I thought most were limited to the stock market?” Pasquale asked.

“That’s one way to look at it, but it’s not the only way,” he replied. He took his fork to put it into a slice.

“I’m just going further than that, to lend money to others for a slice of the profits until I make it right back. I’m not interested in owning anything yet, since my former guardian told me there are far more responsibilities to it than just holding a share and waiting for it to come.”

Emiliano seemed to have understood his explanation, and even more his willingness to look beyond the regular methods of investing.

“I mean, even as I only own a shoe shop, I needed a loan from others to set it up,” he said. “So it’s possible to invest a little in normal private businesses, but those are more of loans than they are of stocks.”

“I thought you sold furniture?” Pasquale asked. Remembering some things he did during the last years of his schooling.

“I still am, but I’m moving into other areas too,” he said. Sipping his first cup. Even as this was more than enough for him.

“That sounds like an idea,” he said.

“I’m just trying to assess them,” he said. This was something that he had been true about. “I have to do it as thoroughly as possible, since I’m betting my money.”

Emiliano showed an interest with him.

“Pardon me, I’m leaving for another table,” Pasquale said to his friends. He took a book containing a dry title about the records of an old duchy that no longer existed.

“I still need to write an essay on the economic situation in the Duchy of Marallo by tomorrow.”

Annibale glanced at it before turning away. He could understand the sheer dryness of the topic, putting most to sleep. He only barely scratched the surface of the topic.

Pasquale took up all of his books and his next seat at the bar. It was single seats, and mostly for students studying. Emiliano and Annibale looked, but perhaps they could catch up instead. It was cozy, he truly did like the place.

“I wondered what happened to you, at least during the last two years,” Emiliano said, turning to look at him.

“A lot of things,” he said. “For me, I guess the most important thing was that I didn’t wish to just live off my inheritance. And I was busy restoring a building to become my new office and also finding tenants who were interested in opening their shops there.”

“Suddenly, everything makes sense.” Emiliano took a sip of his drink. There was an understanding of how busy he was. “However, why didn’t you just tell me? I was looking for a new place for my shop.”

“I have been a terrible friend.” Annibale admitted it, there wasn’t much else to not say that he was. “I have a few spots open. It’s not entirely taken up, but how has everything been doing on your side?”

“It’s not a worry, Rovirna is an excellent location. But Marallo offered a lot more for me in terms of business, so I guess I have you to thank for making me identify Marallo, since I had a connection there who was looking for a shop to rent out. It’s doing well.”

Emiliano had a sincere smile, but aware that this despite everything, he wasn’t exactly bitter.

“It’s not as though I really did an outstanding job asking,” he added.

Annibale had merely forgotten, and they easily rekindled the close relationship they had when they were in school.

“Glad to see things go well,” he said. Even as he could have helped each other a little more for Emiliano.

“How about we catch up? Maybe think of yourself as a financier here,” he said. Making it almost clear for him and helping him. “And that I’m selling a pair of shoes to you, you’re entirely my clientele.”

This was also benefitting Emiliano, something that he had been incredibly well aware of. He had even somehow had a pair of them too. His shoes looked fairly good, although it didn’t exactly fit her.

“I’m going to a few banks for a loan, mostly to hire more shoemakers for my shop. We pride ourself in handmade shoes, and the shoes are selling incredibly well in Marallo. Enough for me to have reserved shoes nearly two months in advance by last year and still growing.”

He knew it too; he had an interest, finishing the last bit of his food and drink. The last touch and then looking. It looked good; it looked expensive.

“Was this your goal?” Annibale quickly realised what he came here for. It was not unusual for them to do so with a motive. Most of it was the connections, for most of them were wealthy.

“Yes,” he said.

“I think we should bring this to somewhere else.” Well aware that he was running afoul of the rules, since shoes stepped on incredibly dirty things. Even if it was brand new, but it wasn’t a good pairing with any food.

“How about another day then in your office?” Emiliano asked. Knowing it, too.

“Sounds good to me,” Annibale answered. There was one more thing that he would like his friend to do.

“Well, if you want my opinion on the cafe,” Emiliano said. Annibale gave him a smile, expecting his question. “I think this is a great place. Since people come and go regardless of what they come here for, except maybe changing their clothes and shoes.”

“They convinced me by the time I ordered my first cup of coffee and pastry,” he said with a smile. This was a good place, and he could truly think this could go far beyond that.