The place starts to smell of garlic and tobacco , as the door opens once more...
An old figure shuffles in , his loud breathing betrays he is taking some effort.
His eyes are poking around the room nervous .
They react to even the smallest movement inside the room.
But his shaking hands and slow movements betray he is in the autumn of his life.
He is clearly struggling to stand on his feat.
''For those of you who not know me , i am Jean Franco da Calvi'' , he speaks with a shaking voice.
Old Calvi leans to the wall and stares to the other gentleman that are clearly surpised by his entrance.
''I do not know if there is a chair for me here'' he continues '' But still i came ''.
''My boys they could have been killed'' he whispers in Corse while turning to Marcus ;
who knows the old man had always respected the throne untill recent developments concearning his sons.
''But your ways '' , he pauses '' did get them back home alive and safe ''.
After this short monologue suddenly two of the Calvi brothers walk in .
They carry a luxurious chair and position it in a corner of the room , next to a small table,
On that table they put a glass , a bottle of wine , and a plateau with bread cheese and olives.
While pouring the glass with wine , one of the brothers spills some all over the expensive carpet.
The other brother curses him in Corse , and yells something about ''spending time in the back next flight''
The father sits down , and makes his sons leave the room with a simple handgesture.
He seems far more confident and dominant now .
As he lights his pipe and takes some puffs , the room fills with a sweeth smelling smoke.
Somehow familliar , yet its not definable.
Smoking this pipe distracts him , as he now seems to be studying his food and wine instead of the other gentlemen.
Staring satisfied at his little table , eating drinking and smoking at the same time without saying a word.
![[Image: zElBwT7.png]](https://i.imgur.com/zElBwT7.png)