Page 44 of Lore and Lust
Nino considers. “Okay, how about the other naked guy?David?”
“That is Michelangelo.”
“The Sistine Chapel?”
“Also Michelangelo.”
“Dammit.Wait. One more. What about the one where the fingers are touching?”
Haruka laughs. The sound of it echoes through the silent space. “That isThe Creation of Adamand also by Michelangelo. It is unfortunate that Signor Moretti is not quizzing you onhim.”
Nino shakes his head, exasperated. “Alright, just tell me.”
“Mona Lisa,The Last Supper,Vitruvian Man,Head of a Woman,The Baptism of Christ.”
“I’ve heard of some of those. You want me to name all five?”
“I do,” Haruka says, sneering at the motionless older vampire. “Confidently.”
Nino holds on to his hand tightly as he rolls his shoulders. “Alright, unfreeze them—Wait.” Haruka pauses, feeling the burn behind his irises as he waits. Nino grins. “Should you break his baby toe?”
“He deserves a ruptured spleen.”
They laugh openly, reveling in the ironically private moment before Nino turns back toward Signor Moretti. He waits with their hands warmly clasped. Haruka withdraws his energy and the older vampire is moving and speaking again—like a movie that had been paused but suddenly resumes playing.
“—you managethatmuch? Three works?” Signor Moretti says, his chiseled face frowning in incredulity.
Nino stares, his gaze unwavering. “Sure.Mona Lisa,The Last Supper,Vitruvian Man,Head of a Woman,The Baptism of Christ…Do I need to go on? Are you familiar with those?”
Signor Moretti sits back with his eyebrow raised as he takes hold of his wine glass. “OfcourseI am, child. How could you think—”
“Another thing,” Nino says. “Pleasedon’t call me that. I’ve been alive for a hundred and thirteen years. I’m obviously not a child. It’s demeaning.”
Signor Moretti draws back and puts his hands up in mock offense. “Heavens, well I do apologize, young master. First mymatechastises me all night, and now the younger Bianchi as well. In the words of the great King Julius Caesar, ‘Et tu, Brute?’”
“Julius Caesar did not say those words,” Haruka says flatly.
The guests at the table pause. The gentle song of nocturnal creatures hidden in the surrounding brush outside the glass walls is now more apparent.
“What?” Signor Moretti smiles arrogantly. “I apologize, Haruka, but it is a well-known fact that hedid.”
“You are mistaken, signore,” Haruka says. “That is a fictitious line from the Shakespeare playJulius Caesar. Just as some believe that Caesar was deaf in one ear, but there is no documented historical evidence of it. It isalsoa common misconception derived from the Shakespearean play.”
Signor Moretti scratches the back of his head. “That is… an interesting fact—”
“In addition,” Haruka goes on, “Julius Caesar was not a ‘king.’ He intentionally held the title of ‘dictator’ in ancient Rome and was never formally recognized as emperor.”
Nino squeezes and tugs his hand underneath the table. Haruka blinks, swiftly pressing his energy outward again to halt all movement. He shifts his glowing eyes toward Nino.
“I acknowledge,” Haruka says, “that I am being petty.”
Nino sits back against his chair in a warm laugh, his face bright with amusement.
“Normally I would not draw attention to something so trivial, but his behaviorgratesme,” Haruka continues. “You should sincerely consider declaring a societal role for yourself. You are unquestionably talented.”
Historians in the aristocracy are expected to know specific, ancient aspects of their culture spanning a self-chosen subject: music and arts, religion, politics, genetics, biology or a particular time period. Sometimes a combination of topics, as in Haruka’s case (he is heavily inclined toward both arts and genealogy). Nino may not have an official societal role, but it is unfair for Signor Moretti to hold him strictly accountable on this particularly narrow topic.
“I should, you’re right,” Nino says. “I will soon.”
