A real book in his hands, this made him think. How long had it actually been since he held one or better yet smelled the pages? It didn't feel as if it were a memory confined to some far flung corner of recollection. More recent than that, certainly.
"Circa un mese. I tempi sono stati occupati a gestire i voltagabbana di una causa fallita." "About a month. Times have been busy dealing with turncoats of a failed cause."
There was a lack of regard or respect for how he referred to whomever those people were and that helped narrowed the list for Fiorella. But she would find him less vocal when met with the request to wait here and rest. Clearly he would have preferred having her stay but was not nearly impulsive enough to protest in the face of navigational necessity.
This room would do for now, along with whatever selection of reading material it had. It might even do him some good given that he had a lot to think over regarding how this meeting with her father would go. Malta was a strange place for people like him, probably more so now post-revolt. More of an emphasis on caution might be necessary along with some deference to local custom, whatever that was. By the time the door was shut Damien felt as if his mind had turned into a runny soup of ceaseless contemplation.
