Upon his inquiry, she merely shrugged her shoulders lightly, seemingly indifferent about who they might first encounter on her estate. She appeared relaxed and at ease, in her element, on her home turf. She consumed her plucked 'apple' rather swiftly—the hard, discarded stem thrown into the grass was all that remained of the fruit.
"[Fiorella!]"
A young male voice called out from the alley to their right.
"[Julian! You are well, I presume?]"
She inquired of Julian de Marco as they embraced warmly in greeting. His chuckle was a positive response. He appeared youthful and relatively inexperienced, no older than twenty-five. Yet, in his eyes, he sparkled with the willingness to prove himself.
"[Julian de Marco, my younger cousin and one of my finest freight pilots. He earned his wings during several blockade and trade runs.]"
She gestured toward the dark-haired young man in white, loose clothes as she introduced him to Damien, then, with the same gesture, indicated her companion.
"[Damien Morreti, commander of the Xeno Alliance, my guest, and the biological father of my daughter.]"
The mention of Damien as the father of Fiorella's daughter, Ciara de Marco, elicited a slight surprise on her cousin's face. It was as if he was unsure whether to protect his cousin from this foreign influence or to endorse her decision.
Ultimately, a mix of both sentiments seemed to prevail, and he moved to shake Damien's hand. The offered handshake was warm and welcoming, yet the subsequent grip's strength could be interpreted as a warning. Welcome among us, but if you harm her or break her heart, our retribution will be swift and merciless.
"[Welcome to our little valley, Damien. You should spend some time under our sun; you look unnaturally pale.]"
Damien stood out among the dark-haired Outcasts of the south, whose skin was more or less bronzed from the Maltese sun.
