The elder brother smiled, and he looked at his youngest brother as though he were a child. “This time, yes. But you must be more careful from now on. Would you like to learn how to protect Madam Rossetti in the future?”
“Yes, please.”
“There are three ways of accomplishing your goals. First, you could forbid her from inventing anything too conspicuous.”
“Dahlia is a brilliant magical toolmaker. I cannot do that.”
“My thoughts exactly. Then on to method number two: have the kingdom or a high-ranking noble protect her. That can be achieved not by staying as an advisor to the Beast Hunters but by becoming a resident magical toolmaker for one of the larger royal orders; I can give her my referral should that path be chosen. Another path along the same lines would be to have an aristocrat hire her as a magical toolmaker. She would not enjoy the same degree of freedom, but her safety would nearly be guaranteed.”
“If possible, I wish that Dahlia can continue to make the tools that she wishes to make.” The way that a glint appeared in her green eyes as she assiduously experimented could not be shackled—should not be shackled.
Guido nodded. “The third option is for you and Madam Rossetti to wed. She would have the freedom and protection that our family and faction can afford.”
“Your jokes have gone too far, brother!” Volf’s shouting elicited neither laughter nor shock from the two other men but rather awkward looks.
“I’m dead serious. I am Madam Rossetti’s noble guardian. Surely you can see our protection would only be strengthened were she to become one of ours?”
“In that case, could we not adopt her too?”
“That would make her our father’s daughter and your sister or my daughter and your niece—either way, you would not be able to marry—”
“Please, lay off the ribbing—Dahlia and I aren’t in that kind of relationship.” Guido had always harped on with his teasing; Jonas too, for that matter. I wish they would stop making light of her.
“If you say so, Volf. Let us put down adoption as the fourth method, then. If Madam Rossetti so wishes, then I can arrange for it to happen.”
“Our family, really?”
“Lord Gildo or Lord Grato would not refuse either should we make the same request of them. She would become a noblewoman of a traditional marquisate family, making her not only safe but also eligible for quality marriage partners—nothing but long-term benefits, I say.”
“I...I see.”
“In any case, you ought to go to Madam Rossetti and have her keep mum about this product. You and I have more business to attend to, Ivano, so I shall be taking up more of your time.”
Volf looked beside him and, after Ivano nodded in confirmation, bowed to Guido. “Very well. I appreciate you giving me your time, Guido.” He made extra effort to prevent it, but his voice still squeaked.
After seeing the mixture of concern and affection that marked Volf’s footfalls as he walked out the door, Ivano righted himself in his seat. Aside from Jonas as attendant, that left the guest and the host in the room, who looked each other in the eyes for a few silent moments.
“You seem to have something to say, Ivano.”
Though Ivano felt like he’d grown just a bit more accustomed to speaking with nobles, this nobleman was an entirely different beast. But his nerves be damned. “I was thinking perhaps you were somewhat overbearing with Sir Volf.”
“Is that right? My baby brother may be too precious, but I could not spare him this time. I wonder why he is so adamant about not admitting his feelings, though.”
“Some operas have long preludes.”
“Well, so long as there is a finale, I shall wait with anticipation. Regardless, if this project proceeds with Madam Rossetti’s name on it, it would surely bring too much unnecessary attention and, therefore, danger to her. Her only notable invention being the waterproof cloth would also raise everyone’s suspicions.”
He looked into Guido’s frosty blue eyes and smiled. “That is because the chairwoman’s father had been protecting her.”
“I have heard that Carlo Rossetti is Madam Rossetti’s only kin, but I know little else besides his name. Would you please tell me about what he was like?”
“Certainly. Mr. Carlo was an unparalleled magical toolmaker, an upright man, and a wonderful father.” How many inventions he’d made, how many people he’d helped through business at the Merchants’ Guild, how much he could drink, how much care he’d given Dahlia both as his daughter and a magical toolmaker—ask anybody who had known Carlo and they’d tell the same tales.
Guido did not once interrupt but listened quietly and attentively; he only responded with a firm nod of the head after Ivano had finished. “It sure seems that Madam Rossetti’s father was very capable.”
“I have yet to become a fraction of the man he was—I doubt I will even when I get to his age.” And Ivano meant it. Carlo had been as refreshing as a breeze and always surrounded by voices of laughter. Even after receiving his barony, he’d never been prideful but remained as humble as he’d been when he was a commoner, yet he’d amassed enough power to protect his friends from the grasp of the nobility. Though he’d employed a maid at one point in time, he’d never remarried, raising Dahlia alone to become the exceptional magical toolmaker and woman she was now. The partner he’d arranged for her was questionable, but perhaps Carlo had done so due to his own health or lack thereof. It was almost as though he’d predicted his sudden passing—but Ivano shook that thought from taking hold of his mind; he’d never heard anything of the sort from Carlo, and it would have been disrespectful to make false assumptions.
“They say that a daughter chooses a partner using her father as a standard.” For Dahlia, that would be Carlo. He’d been her only family and her magical toolmaking master, and that was a high bar.
“That’s quite the heavy thing to hear.” Both Ivano and Guido had daughters, and they couldn’t help but think about Volf’s as well as their own situations.
The room fell silent, and the silver-haired man pointed his eyes to the closed door, undoubtedly thinking of Volf. Guido caught himself staring, then vaguely shaped his lips into something of a smile. “I feel for my brother—he has big shoes to fill.”