Lorenzo woke up early in the morning, staring out the window, knowing today was his last day. He would need to go back once they settled with the landlord for their bill. It was impromptu, but they could do it once they vacated. 

Placido was still asleep as he thought about why, but it would take a week or two for any letter. And if it wasn’t urgent, he could go back and then maybe set off again soon. It was much better than trying to argue with his parents through letters, as it took time. 

And, of course, he didn’t intend to defy his own father’s orders. 

But Gennaro and Amico already woke up at the light of dawn, getting worked. 

“I would help you get dressed, Signore for your trip. The food is not quite ready yet. I’ll check with the kitchen later.”   

Lorenzo agreed. He doubts he could sleep much now. He had too much in his mind, and being in the carriage often meant that he spent most of it just looking out the window, usually for a bumpy ride. 

Until they came to a stop, although those were few from the monotony of the slow, bumpy ride home. 

“Yes, that would be good.” Lorenzo got up, waiting for him to come. 

Gennaro went to grab his clothes, coming back with his traveling clothes. They dressed in Lorenzo opened his hand, so that he could dress him. 

“Are you upset at the news?” The man asked.

It threw Lorenzo’s plans into disarray, casting away his wishes and desires to head into Britain. There was such a clear image formed right in his mind about what he expected from Britain: plenty of talks, perhaps more than they had more options than before. 

But he had to put his own dreams behind him, and duty first since his father summoned him. 

“No, I’m more worried.” He looked as he had already put on his shirt and breeches. “Mama told me he had taken ill, but he recovered recently. If anything improves, we’ll be back on the road pretty soon.”

He still held out some hope that he could, but he would return first. There were so much unknowns waiting for him at home. 

Gennaro nodded. 

“Tell me what you think.” Lorenzo stared at him in the eyes, beckoning him to say more. 

“I think that’s for the best signore,” he said. They were almost done with him placing his wig, powdering it so that it was grey. Now it was the cravat. 

He heard footsteps, turning his head to see a sleepy Placido who yawned before downing a cup of coffee that Amico brought him. 

“You’re already getting ready to leave?” Placido looked, raising his eyebrow. 

“I couldn’t quite go back to sleep, and all I could think about was spending the whole day in a carriage. Neither of them particularly thrills me.” He has never heard of anyone who enjoys the actual traveling much compared to the sights he’ll see. 

“Well, we could at least talk. You’re going to enjoy it more than me.” 

“You prefer to read, but it’s not that easy to be reading on a carriage.” Lorenzo admitted. “I’ve tried a few things.” 

“Yes,” he said. 

“I’m glad for the company.” Lorenzo told him the truth, that he did. “I can talk to Gennaro, but not much, since he can read a little. Either way, I’m probably going to be writing furiously when we’ve stopped.” 

“You need someone to talk about, whether it’s debating the meaning of life or even something as minuscule as the next stop. I could see Parma before I really have to go back.” 

“So, when should we meet to settle the last of our payments?” 

“Once we’ve eaten, the landlord is never that much of an early riser.” Then, he had gone inside to dress. 

Once Placido came out fully dressed, Amico showed up with the food at last. Lorenzo was far more famished than Placido and he excitedly ate. 

Their valets had retired too, so that they could eat and prepare for the journey. 

He picked up a loaf of bread and some butter, eating it in mostly silence. 

“What would you miss most about Paris?” Lorenzo asked. 

“The books, definitely, the selection, although they are pretty strict in terms of what they allow and not allow to be published. But you can still find it, and it’s not as though there is someone collecting all the books.” 

Lorenzo gave a laugh, agreeing. 

“It’s a cultural center and the center for all intellectuals or literary lions. That is what I liked. I don’t think I could have if I returned. Maybe a different sort of education of how to run an estate, fulfil my lordly duties and take care of the commoners in my domains.” 

“That is a different sort.” 

“And both our futures.” He gave a laugh.

He finished a cup of coffee before they needed to meet the landlord. The landlord took the lowest level and was someone that Placido knew through a family friend. 

Lorenzo went down the steps to the ground floor, before knocking at the wooden door. Placido took over, always being the one who dealt with the matters of their lodgings. 

An old man with greying hair, and a slight mustache open the door. 

“We’re both leaving today.” 

“That seems a little rushed.” The landlord folded his own hands, unable to think. “But alright, any reason?” 

He was most curious, as they had been with him for six months. Now he had to find someone new. It was quite hasty, but he didn’t have that much time or wish to dally. The sooner he figured out what was going on, the sooner he could return to his travels. 

“My friend needs to return immediately to his home, and we’ll pay up to today.” Placido had reached in, giving him the cost. 

The man counted it in silence as they waited for him to give his approval. 

“You’re both free to go. Have a safe trip,” he said, giving them a wave. 

“That was fast,” Lorenzo said, surprised at how fast it went. “Wouldn’t he be more upset?” 

Placido whispered. “He’ll just put up a new notice. He doesn’t need it that fast, so he’ll just find someone new to takeover. Maybe a family.” 

Lorenzo and Placido both left the building. Their lease was done. Gennaro and Amico stood there, having completed the preparations for their trip. 

“Farewell, Paris.” He mentioned it to his friend. 

“Farewell, but not the last time either of us will see it.” Placido gave a smile. “That might help to think that this isn’t permanent.” 

“You’re right, I’ll come back again someday.” Lorenzo had to agree. He would come back again. 

But instead of going north to Britain, they were going south to Italian, to home.