Master armorer signor Renato Arrighi, maker of the most prized
armor in all of Italy, paced back and forth across the marble
floor of his studio.
The duke is early, he thought; a week early. Why? No matter,
we are ready: the new hinge works well, the helmet design
has been improved and - He looked through the drawings of
armor on his work table. Not finding what he had expected,
he searched again.
Where are Lorenzos drawings? The duke will ask
to see them. Signor Arrighi spoke softly to himself.
He was trying to remain calm; trying not to be angry with
his son. He looked up; the sound of heavy footsteps echoed
through the armorys stone corridor. Where is that boy?
Does he want to disgrace me?