With the scandal shaking completely the structure of the school and the old Colonel Magnani being now replaced by the recently-promoted Lieutenant-Colonel Alessandro Tommaseo, who immediately began a radical restructuring of the institution, Giulio was eventually readmitted. He found himself in a much better position now: with the bullies expelled, his reputation improved because of what he did and now more motivated, he managed to improve his grades and to conclude his studies two years later, in 2012, at the age of 17, within the school's best students, gaining therefore direct admission into the Military Academy of Modena.
During one of the last days of school, while the young nobleman was taking the very final examinations, Colonel Alessandro Tommaseo invited him to his office, for a brief farewell conversation.
"Very well, so this is the end of your cycle here in Napoli." Said the officer, as the two were seated one in front of the other, talking. "I must say that it has been a real pleasure to have you among our ranks... even for reorganisation purposes, so to say."
"Thank you, Sir." Replied Giulio, whose attention was caught by the portrait of King Ferdinand IV of Napoli and Sicily, hanging behind the Colonel's desk.
Noticing it, the Colonel decided to comment on that change: "I found it in the basement and I decided that it fitted this place better than the disgusting painting of Carlo Lauberg* that was here before." Explained the officer, blinking his left eye. "Anyway, if I am not mistaken, your plan is to continue with the military career, isn't it?"
"It is, Sir. As a matter of fact, I plan to attend the military academy, in Modena."
"The Academy? Well, in this case I will write you a letter of recommendation. Even if with your grades you should be able to enter without major difficulties, there is always the risk that they prefer someone 'better connected' than you."
"Thank you, I'm really grateful for the help." Replied immediately Giulio.
"Never mind. I am happy to help those who deserve, instead of favouring a cohort of incompetents who only get there because of their parents. It's a ridiculous practice that I hope sooner or later will end."
"I hope so, but my experience in this country so far doesn't make me optimistic, Sir." Replied Giulio. "It seems that here nothing ever changes ever and even when they change everything, they just do it to make sure that everything stays as it is."
Tommaseo smirked. "Quoting Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa is clever, but you shouldn't let your appreciation for monarchist authors be too evident. Still, I would say that things do change, often for bad, but sometimes also for good. Just look at what we have accomplished here after you and that crazy anarchist of Federica Nathan deserted: everything went down and I had the chance to change it completely, making this place be praised across Europe. Sometimes, what people really need is just a harsh, traumatic, radical change."
"I'll keep in mind."
"Sherry?" Asked then the Colonel.
"Not sure if I should..."
"Bullshit." Replied Tommaseo, laughing. "You think I don't know already of your bad habits?"
"Ah well..."
"Sherry? Yes, or no?"
"Sure!" Replied Giulio, laughing. Tommaseo poured the liquor in a glass and offered it to the pupil, then served himself.
"Do you keep contact with Federica, by the way?"
"Not really, Sir. Also our families, well, they don't really get along."
"I can see that: a well-established Republican and Jewish family with the former leading family of the Cavalier Party... Plus you, a reactionary monarchist with an anarchist, that was funny."
"Indeed..." Said Giulio, faking a laugh to hide the bitterness of thinking over the ended relationship. "But wait." He interrupted, remembering that monarchism in the EUR was a crime. "I am not a monarchist."
"Better now, you just have a strong, purely academic, interest for Julius Evola, Maurras, Spengler, Tomasi di Lampedusa, Gabriele d'Annunzio and many others. Then your passion for social research has brought you to attend meetings at clandestine monarchist circles downtown in Napoli, which the military intelligence told me of..."
"They what?" Giulio winced.
"Nothing to be worried about, the military intelligence is a contradiction in terms, few insignificant excuses calmed them down."
"Ah thanks."
"You're welcome." Replied the Lieutenant-colonel, holding himself from laughing.
"One last thing." He then said. "Once you will have passed the exam for Modena, I would like you to bring this business card to the Commander of the Academy, Brigadier General Luigi Federico Menabrea III. He will know what to do with it."
Giulio looked at the card with perplexity: it was entirely black with written the name "Sir Galahad" over it, while on the upper left corner the image of a dragon incurved to form a circle, with its blood covering its back and forming a cross. Immediately, the young nobleman recognised the symbol as being that of the Order of the Dragon, a chivalric order created by the Holy Roman Empire to fight the Ottomans.
"Is it..."
"Ask nothing, just hand it to the General and you will see."
Giulio raised his eyebrows. "Very well..."
"Good day, Lord Galahad." Greeted the colonel with a smile.
"Good day, Colonel Tommaseo."
As a result of his merits and of the recommendation, he was easily accepted into the military academy, which he joined officially on the 15th Frimaire 220 (the 24th of May, 2012 in the Gregorian Calendar), with the traditional ceremony known as Mak Pi 100. This was a traditional ceremony, held approximately 100 days before the promotion of the cadets to Lieutenants, which included the Bal des Débutantes and the handing of the insignia of the graduating class to the entering cohort, in a solemn ceremony which took place in the patio of the Military Academy, located in the Ducal Palace of Modena, a 17th century Royal Residence, built with the supervision of Gianlorenzo Bernini.
Thanks to his academic merits and his grades, Giulio was appointed head of the class, meaning that it was him, at the ceremony, who received the ensigns. This also implied that after the end of the ceremony, he could be received by the commander in his office, to be instructed about his duties as the new head of the course.
"Please, Citizen Galahad, make yourself comfortable." Invited General Menabrea, as Giulio appeared on the door.
The young nobleman entered, looking around. The walls were decorated with Napoleonic paintings and drawings and with commemoratives placards of different operations and campaigns to which the General took part.
"It's an honour, Sir." Started Giulio. "I see that you have a background in the Colonial Army."
"As a matter of facts, I do." Replied the General. "I started my career in the 34th Colonial Indochinese Infantry, then moved to staff duties in the Military Region of Macau, then participated to operations in Equatorial Africa and so on. I even commanded a native battalion made by Masai warriors, some fifteen years ago." He concluded revealing a lot of pride and nostalgia.
"This is fascinating, I always found the colonial service too underrated in Europe... But well, I am biased, being from Britannia."
At these words, General Menabrea laughed with satisfaction. "I can see that! I know for you in Britannia the colonial service is nearly a must for every decent officer, while here in Europe is poorly regarded... thanks to the stupid leftists."
"All this while this country, without colonies would be bankrupted." Added Giulio.
"Indeed, now, political considerations aside, if I am not mistaken, you are the head of the class and as such I should instruct you about your duties." Said the General, returning serious.
"Yes, Sir. Ready for the instruction."
"Very well, first of all, your rank is a result of your academic performance and merits, when they made your name, I won't lie, I was perplex at first, but then I thought of giving you a chance. Now, this grants you the privilege of taking up service directly as a First Lieutenant, instead of second, like the other cadets. Needless to say, that this means some responsibilities for you: first of all, your behaviour and grades must always remain exemplary and should you consistently fail to keep up with the standards, which are high, you will lose your rank. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Second, you are responsible for the behaviour and the performance of your class. You need to ensure that your colleagues are all well, in the conditions of following the courses with full efficiency and that they keep with the average. If something goes wrong, you must do your best to solve it, or report it if you are unable to do so. If the class is poorly managed, once again, you lose your position."
"Understood."
General Menabrea nodded. "Very well, I think you got it. I will see you in Vendemiaire, Cadet Galahad-Canossa. Dismissed, have a nice summer."
Giulio saluted the General, leaving on his desk, right before leaving, the card given to him by Colonel Tommaseo. Nonetheless, he did it too quickly to stop to notice the General's reaction.
The summer continued without major events: Giulio went with his family on the traditional holiday in Portofino, where they had a house (even dispossessed of 90% of their wealth, the Galahad-Canossa were still considerably wealthy) and then he went to spend a few weeks in Tyrol, where they also had a hunting lodge. Finally, at the beginning of the month of Vendemmiaire, he started classes at the Military Academy in Modena.
Unlike at the Military School in Napoli, his life at the Military Academy was much easier, being the head of his class and as a result, earning from the beginning the respect of his colleagues and of his professors. Furthermore, now in a more stimulating environment, he kept from the beginning an excellent academic performance, deepening his studies in geopolitics and grand strategy.
It was in this context that he made friends with Marcantonio Visconti-Gonzaga. Marcantonio was the heir of one of those noble families that in spite of the Revolution had opted to remain in Europe. He was also the Head-of-the-Class of the class senior to Giulio's and a member of the Institute for Geopolitics and Grand Strategy, a think tank internal to the Military Academy made by officers, professors, cadets and even civilian researchers and students. To this institution, Giulio was invited to join almost immediately, accepting it enthusiastically.
"May I ask you something?" Asked Marcantonio, on a day of spring, while the two were in the headquarters of the Society, located in the city centre, working at a research on the Ottoman Empire.
"Yes, of course." Replied Giulio, without even raising his eyes from the paper he was reading.
"What brought you to join the military? Not wanting to be indiscreet, but you could just have settled down with your family assets, went to study Business or Economics and then done something in the field."
"So could you, yet you didn't." Was Giulio's short reply.
"Yes, but I wanted to honour the family's traditions... Even under the Republic."
"Same goes for me." Replied Giulio, who had remained focused on the paper. "By the way, this document is interesting: in spite of on paper us and the Turks being allies, since the last Cyprus Crisis of 2003, I mean 209, we have been collaborating more with Euro Britannia to keep the Ottomans down and destroy the Turkish guerrilla on Cyprus."
"Ah yes! Legacies of President Berlusconi! We depend on the Ottomans for the oil and from the Euro Britannians for the gas. The Euro Britannians are fine with peaceful coexistence, yet the Ottomans..."
"They are just insane!" Completed Giulio. "They are trying to make our colonial empire crumble so that they can take our place."
"Not insane, just very ambitious."
"Insane." Stated Giulio. "They are struggling keeping the Arabs, the Armenians and the Greeks, not to talk about the Kurds down, yet think they can take more."
"They did it once, so you can imagine how they must feel."
"You're right." Replied Giulio, taking off his glassed and closing the file. "Coffee?"
"Yeah, let's go for one." Replied Marcantonio, standing up.
As they sat at the café for their coffee, they looked at a copy of the newspaper left on the table by a previous client, which talked about the National Elections, which were to take place in the next weeks.
"What does it say?" Asked Giulio, as Marcantonio took it first.
His colleague shook his head. "Nothing good, Enrico Letta is ahead, the right is fragmented, the lefties are winning again."
"What about the European Social Movement?"
"They are... Suprisingly doing well, estimated to get 10-12%. Ignazio La Russa isn't that bad, after all."
"Well, good for their standards."
"My friend, don't expect anything from the democratic system." Sentenced Marcantonio.
"The Republic protects itself, those on top, want to stay there, there's no institutional solution."
"I agree." Replied Giulio. "I mean, I am a monarchist, I know I shouldn't tell, but everyone knows it, so I don't care."
"I don't blame you... I mean, I agree, even more with the family that I have. You would be surprised by the number of monarchists in the Armed Forces."
"Really?" Asked Giulio.
"Yes. Mostly in the Navy, at least in Italy. But the Army and the Air Force also have their fair share of representatives."
"Interesting." Replied Giulio, thinking about it. "Do you know any? I mean of those officers."
Marcantonio nodded, sipping his coffee. Then, from his briefcase took a small business card, on which back he wrote few information and handed it to Giulio. "Come to this place, at the time you will find in the back. I will take care of the rest."
"Sure, sure." Replied Giulio, looking at the card.
"I believe we should return to work now." Cut short his friend. "I'll take care of the coffee."
As was agreed, few days later, Giulio was heading to that place. It was a weekend, so the cadets were allowed to leave and to stay out in civilian clothes. Thus, he wore a double-breasted suit in a Bordeaux-coloured Solaro. Elegant and exhibitionist to the point he liked.
The place was hidden inside a palace, located in a small lateral street of the elegant Corso Canalgrande, not far from the Palace of Prince Foresto. He had never heard of that place, though when he went to check on the social media, it seemed like a place of his taste. In any case, arriving there, there were no signs of such a place and he was now outside, under a ceaseless rain, waiting for Marcantonio.
'Did that guy just played me a prank?' He thought, while checking his Vacheron-Constantin watch and waiting outside.
"There you are!" Exclaimed Marcantonio, reaching him and giving a pat on his shoulder. "Take this." He then added, handing him an invitation. "You see, this is a sort of private club, so you only get inside with an invitation and by knowing which bell you ring." He added, by pressing a button on the intercom.
The place was distributed in three large rooms in the basement of the palace, all furnished in a 1930s style, with a predominance of the art déco. The air was impregnated by the smoke and the smell of tobacco, coming from cigars or pipes.
"That's a nice place." Observed Giulio. "If I knew I would have brought my cigars."
"They'll be on you next time, then, tonight it's with our host." Replied his friend, pointing at a table where a man dressed in a Prince-of-Wales suit and smoking a pipe was sitting. As they headed there, a waitress welcomed them and accompanied the two to him.
The man, who was reading while smoking, had to be called by the waitress, before he took notice of the two. Slowly, he then closed his book, putting it on the table and raised his eyes looking at them. He had two small and investigative eyes, small lips and a proud, but also intelligent expression. He indeed looked like someone very confident of himself.
"Good evening, gentlemen." He finally said, in a polite tone. "Have a sit, please."
"Captain, he is..."
"Giulio Galahad-Canossa, I know. The man that should be the 7th Duke of Danville, if memory isn't misleading me."
"That's right, sir."
"What an honour. I am Junio Valerio Borghese, Duke of Sulmona and commander of the submarine Lepanto, of the National Navy."
"It's my honour." Replied Giulio immediately. "I haven't heard of the House Borghese in a while now. If am not mistaken, the last member of the New Orleans branch of the family died some ten years ago in Pendragon."
"That's right. Making of my branch of the family the last legitimate one, though Emperor Charles refused to recognise us anything. Which is I only use the Italian title, which was granted us by the Pope, back in the days."
"That's nothing new." Replied him Giulio. "Unfortunately, since the establishment of Euro Britannia, the policy has been that of purging the old nobility from Pendragon. If you think that even the Wittelsbach and the Habsburg have been exiled."
Borghese nodded. "Unfortunately Britannia has stopped to be on the side of the counter-revolution long ago. I don't blame the Imperial Family, however: when you have an empire of that size and with that power, you may not want it ruled by people who think of it just as an instrument to reclaim a few inches of land in Europe."
Giulio hesitated. "Well... I must say I never really saw if from this perspective, though it's true that both my father and my grandfather wanted, indeed, to reclaim Europe."
"Which leaves us with Euro Britannia as the last hope." Added Marcantonio, who had left them talking, while ordering drinks. "Also, I hope you will all enjoy the drinks I have ordered, two with base whisky and one with base Bourbon for the captain."
"Ah thanks." Replied Giulio.
"I wouldn't place many hopes on Euro Britannia, however." Continued Junio Borghese, indifferent to what Marcantonio had said. "The Russian population and the Orthodox Church detest the nobility coming from America. The Russian nobles have already figured this out and are showing themselves as supporters of Russian nationalism, through the Black Hundreds, as they call themselves and the Liberal Democratic Party. At some point, that thing will implode."
Giulio nodded. "So, in this circle we are all monarchists who despise the French Revolution like the devil, right?"
"What made you think that a Visconti-Sforza and a Borghese would be republicans?" Joked Marcantonio.
"You can never now. Unfortunately, I have met many of our fellow nobles that are true idiots, so by this stage I have just stopped assuming things."
"He's right." Said then Junio valerio Borghese. "I've even met many nobles working for the Republic as spies. The stupid lefties love to spread terror of an imminent 'White Counter-revolution' as a means to gain votes."
"A counter-revolution is what they should all get." Concluded Giulio. "If only we had the means."
"The institutions right now are way too stable." Objected Marcantonio. "First, they need to be destabilised, then they can be overthrown. Thing is, in the middle of this you need a network capable of such deeds and so far, there is no such thing, at least that we know, in any of the Armed Forces."
"Precisely, Marcantonio." Answered Borghese. "Now changing arguments, what are your plans for after the graduation?"
"Well, as the closest one, I will join the cavalry." Said Marcantonio. "My uncle is the commander of the 'Cavalleggeri di Firenze', so I believe I'll start from there."
"I still have some time, but I was thinking of the Alpini, or maybe the cavalry as well. The latter has the nicest traditions, but the former have the Alps, so I like both.
Borghese nodded. "They are all important specialties. The cavalry is particularly interesting for its traditions, but the Alpini are not less so, they all have a strong esprit de corps." The waitress came over and served the drinks. "Well, gentlemen, it's now time to drink and enjoy the evening... And if I were you guys, I would go talk to the girls of that table over there, afterwards. They have been looking here a couple of times already. As a married man, I won't join you, but I definitely encourage you to go."
Both Giulio and Marcantonio looked at them. "I agree with the captain." Said the former.
"Indeed... But first let's drink." Agreed Marcantonio.
"Cheers." Said Junio Borghese, raising his glass.
"To the Counter-revolution." Echoed Giulio.
"To the Counter-revolution!" Exclaimed Marcantonio.
That strange meeting seemed to go with little consequences for Giulio, aside from strengthening his friendship with Marcantonio and getting acquainted with that eccentric Navy officer. Not long afterwards, Giulio's first academic year came to an end and with it, the cadets were allowed a brief holiday, before being sent to their training camps across the Federation or in the colonies. During this time, before departing for their holiday in Tyrol, Giulio's mother was invited to the mansion of the old Princes Marescotti, in Bologna, to which she also took Giulio and Lucrezia. Needless to say that after spending some time there, the conversation with the old Princely couple began to result somewhat boring and monotone for Charlotte's children, who eventually obtained from her the permission to go for a walk in the city centre.
"What are you looking there?" Asked Lucrezia, now 10 years old, as Giulio stopped in front of a tailor in Via Farini, where the luxury stores of the city concentrated.
"I'd like to take a look inside, I want to look at the fabrics for a new suit."
"Okay." She said, following him inside.
For the time he remained inside looking at the fabrics and asking about the things we wanted to do and the possible costs, she remained quiet, sitting on a chair and looking around, without complaining.
"Lucry, we can go." Said finally Giulio, extending to her his hand. She took it and followed him outside.
"Where are we going now?" She asked.
"What about Piazza Maggiore?" Suggested Giulio. "We can take a look at St. Petronius Basilica and then get an ice cream."
"Is it also where the Egyptian Museum is? I went there with the school."
"Yes, we will pass in front of it." Replied Giulio, taking her to cross the street and then to walk under the portico of Palazzo dei Banchi.
"Why does this church like it was never finished?" Asked Lucrezia, noticing that only its base was covered by marble and showed some gothic decorations.
"Because it wasn't and in origin it was meant to be even bigger. Yet, after commissioning it, they figured out that the project was just too ambitious and they could never finish it."
"Oh... and when was this?"
"In the late 1400s and early 1500s, if I am not mistaken. Our ancestors still resided in Ferrara, at that time."
"And people was Christian, at that time."
"That's true." Confirmed Giulio.
"In the class of Republican Education, they teach us about the Supreme Being. They say it's an enlightened religion and that the Republic is the design of the Supreme Being."
"Oh really? Do they teach you that nonsense?" Asked Giulio, while they were already in the square, looking, from the left, at the half-finished façade of St Petronius.
"Yes and I asked them why if the Supreme Being was good, they beheaded all the nobles in his name."
At those words, Giulio laughed loudly and happily.
"Did I say anything wrong?"
"On the contrary! I am proud of you! What did the teacher say?"
"That it's not true, that the people just rebelled to end the oppression and the obscurantism and that those who could not accept the Republic were left free to go away. Which is why we are Britannians."
"She's a bloody liar!" Exclaimed her older brother. "Next time, you tell her that..."
His speech was interrupted by a mass of people entering the square, shouting and flying flags.
"What is it?" Asked Lucrezia, scared.
"A protest. Come with me." He took her up to the stairs of St. Petronius, to keep her away from the crowd. He soon noticed a number of red flags, along with those of the Vietcongs.
"What are they doing? This is horrible!" Exclaimed Lucrezia, covering her ears.
"They are protesting the war in Vietnam." Said Giulio with anger. "You see: we soldiers go there and fight for the country then those bast... those guys call us murderers and want to give away Europe's colonies to a bunch of terrorists. You should always, always stay away from such traitors."
"I will, brother! Down with the traitors!" She shouted at the crowd.
Giulio smirked while putting his arm around her shoulders and pushing her closer to him. He felt some pride in seeing that his little sister was growing up well. In the meantime, the agents of the Gendarmeria,** the Italian police, charged the protesters with horses and then began to disperse them violently.
All of a sudden, he saw a girl with full blue hair running away from the group, with a policeman running after her, only to be hit by the baton of the agent on the stairs of the Basilica, at few steps from Giulio, where she fell down, being beaten up by the agent. As she did so, Giulio recognised her immediately as being Federica Nathan...
"Agent, stop, stop immediately!" He shouted, rushing in their direction.
"Stay away!" Shouted the agent, before Giulio showed him his document from the Army.
"I got her, calm down, my friend." Said Giulio, with a conciliating tone.
"Right." Replied the policeman, stepping back. "She's your problem now."
Immediately, Giulio helped Federica sitting on the steps of the church. She had a wound right above her forehead, and blood was falling on her face.
"That's a funny way to meet, isn't it?" Said Federica, smiling at him.
"Indeed... I see your troublemaker instinct never go away." Replied Giulio, covering her wound with some tissues. "I'll take you to a café, so that we can get you some help."
Federica did not object, but let him raise her and carry her, followed by a very confused Lucrezia Galahad-Canossa.
Sitting at a café under the portico, Giulio had immediately ice and some bandage brought to them, while he asked two coffees for him and for the girl.
"Would like anything?" He then asked to Lucrezia.
"Ice cream... Pistachio and hazelnut chocolate" She replied, still confused.
"What a lovely girl, I bet you must be his sister." Said then Federica.
Lucrezia looked back at Giulio, as if asking him for instructions. In response, he signalled to her that she could talk to the girl.
"I am his sister, indeed. Who are you?"
"I am Federica. I and your brother studied together in Napoli."
"Ah... She is that famous girlfriend of yours."
"Yes, Lucrezia." Confirmed Giulio, laughing. "That's her."
"I thought she looked differently..." Commented Lucrezia, contemplating the dark clothing of the girl, filled with anarchist symbols.
"Well, I did at the time." Explained Federica. "But me and your brother took very different paths."
"Unfortunately." Added Giulio.
"Well, you wouldn't have made a good anarchist for sure." Objected Federica with a smile, while holding the ice on her head.
"Are you against Vietnam?" Asked again Lucrezia.
"I stand against us oppressing a people in their own homes and I stand against good people like your brother risking their lives for the sake of pursuing a selfish and evil purpose like colonialism."
"So, you stand against the interests of your country. Plus, my brother can take care of himself alone and has no problem about going to Vietnam." Sentenced Lucrezia.
Federica looked at Giulio with an expression half-way between the surprised and the amused. In the meantime the waiter served them the coffee and the ice cream.
"Keep the change." Said Giulio, handing the waiter a € 20 bill. He then turned at Federica: "She learns quickly."
"Giulio, why? What's the point? The Vietnamese will never stop. It's their home, why do we have to do this to them? Do you really feel well knowing that you will probably be deployed there soon?"
Giulio shrugged his shoulders. "It's their home, true. Why do we do this to them? Because they have resources that we need, because they are in a strategic position, in short, because we need their land. Am I fine about going there? Sure."
"But we have no right to take it! We were supposed to be better than Britannia, yet we seem more and more to be the same bunch of racist imperialists."
"Because it's nature, Federica: 'the strong do what they can, the weak suffer what they must.' I always told you to read Thucydides. It's also the law of nature: the survival of the fittest."
"But Giulio... You really hold such a low perception of mankind? Are we animals who just eat each other like... wolves or lions? Don't you think that because we are rational beings, we can do better and live in community?"
Giulio shook his head. "Communities also exist in nature, between other species. Yet they always find a border, there is always something outside that they fight or hunt or against which they defend. The international system is an anarchy, like the one you defend: an absence of government, thus you have Britannia, Europe and other powers doing as they please. If we do not accept this rule and decide to do otherwise, well, we will grow weaker and weaker and eventually someone stronger will subjugate us. You can't evade nature."
Federica sighed. "Sometimes, hearing you feels like I am hearing Charles zi Britannia in person. Anyway, I won't continue this discussion. By now I've made up my mind on this."
"True, we definitely won't... Anyway, how have you been? And what have you been doing? Aside from subversive activity, I mean." Asked the young nobleman.
"Not much." Replied Federica, with indifference. "I've been living in Rome, mostly. I failed school last year, but I count on finishing this year. Then I want to go the university."
"To the university? In Torino? What will you study?"
"History... Or literature. I am still deciding. What about you?"
"Finish the military academy, then I'd like to join the Cavalry, or the Alpini. Perhaps, serve in the colonies for a little bit."
Federica nodded. "Too different paths, indeed. Well, I hope you have a nice career, and a nice life."
"I really hope the same for you, whatever will be your choices." Replied Giulio.
Federica stood silent for a few moments, drinking her coffee, before finally standing up. "I should go, I am sorry for not being able to stay for longer."
"Don't worry." Replied Giulio, also standing. "Go take care of this wound. At some point we'll see each other."
"I hope so. Thank you for the coffee... And for saving me from getting arrested."
Giulio hugged her. "Stay away from troubles."
"I can't. Just like you." Before leaving, she also turned at Lucrezia: "Take good care of your brother, he needs it."
Giulio sat down again, noticing that Lucrezia was still a bit confused. "I don't understand." She started. "Wasn't she with the bad people?"
"Sometimes, Lucrezia, good people make very stupid choices. That's her case."
"Oh... She's a beautiful girl, in any case." Concluded the little girl.
"Indeed, she is." Replied her older brother, looking at the girl disappearing in the crowd, in the direction of Via Farini. "Now let's head back. Mom must be worrying."
NOTES
*Carlo Lauberg (1762-1834): one of the Founding Fathers and first President of the Parthenopean Republic (1799).
**Gendarmeria: in Italy, the police force that does gendarmerie duties, are the Carabinieri. However, the Carabinieri only come into existence during the Restoration (i.e. after the Congress of Vienna) and they are established almost as an elite of the Piedmontese Army, mainly with Royal Guard functions. For those reasons, in a TL in which Europe is under French Republican hegemony and the Restoration never happened, it would not be possible for them to exist.