"You already want to go home?" The maids frowned when they saw their handsome young master already taking his leave. Tartaglia smiled while putting his bag into the carriage.
"Yes, I have some important matters to attend to," he replied, his tone light yet firm. He adjusted the strap of his bag, ensuring it was securely fastened.
The maids exchanged glances, a mix of disappointment and curiosity in their eyes. "But you've only just returned, Master Tartaglia. Can't you stay a bit longer?" one of them pleaded, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
Tartaglia's smile softened. "I wish I could, but duty calls. There's something I must take care of personally."
As he climbed into the carriage, he gave the maids a reassuring nod. "I promise I'll be back soon. Take care of everything while I'm away."
"Sure, we will wait for you!" the maids squealed, delighted by his sweet smile. Their excitement was palpable, a stark contrast to the demeanour of the other Harbingers who stood nearby. Some of them rolled their eyes or sighed in exasperation, clearly annoyed by the spectacle.
Along the journey, Tartaglia's thoughts are filled with Thoma. He imagines how his lovely partner will greet him, and a smile spreads across his face as he gazes out the window. The driver notices and chuckles.
"Must be nice to be young again," the driver remarks, bringing Tartaglia back to reality. "You know, when I was younger, I met my wife."
Tartaglia doesn't respond, curious about the old man's story.
"She was lovely back then. All the men in my town were after her. She was the mayor's daughter, well-educated, kind, and had the most delightful laugh. Oh my, I start to miss her laugh," the old man smiles wistfully.
"Is she not here?" Tartaglia asks, wondering if the driver's wife had passed away. The old man laughs heartily.
"She's at home, making a nice meal because our daughter is coming home today," he says. Tartaglia feels a bit embarrassed for assuming the worst. "You must be a good man then, to be blessed with such a wonderful wife and children."
"Yeah, I wonder that too. I often think about what good deeds I must have done to deserve such amazing people in my life," the old man sighs contentedly. "So, who is it that you're thinking about? Your lover?" he asks, looking at Tartaglia with a teasing glint in his eye.
Tartaglia blushes slightly. "My lover," he whispers, feeling shy about discussing his love life with anyone other than Arlecchino. The old man nods knowingly.
"They must be quite an attractive person to have caught the young master's eye," the old man teases.
Tartaglia smiles widely. "Something like that," he says, his thoughts once again drifting to Thoma, and the warmth in his heart grows stronger.
"What makes you love them? Their laugh? Or, their personality?" the old man asks, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. Tartaglia pauses, the question catching him off guard. He thinks deeply about it, but the words seem to escape him.
The old man notices his hesitation. "It's okay if you don't have an answer right away. Love is complex, isn't it?"
"No, it's okay. I just love him, that's all. It just kind of happened," Tartaglia says, his voice softening. "Actually, our first meeting wasn't great. I kind of hurt him back then."
The old man raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? How did that happen?"
Tartaglia sighs, recalling the painful memory. "I was on a mission, and I didn't realize who he was. Things got... complicated. I ended up hurting him, and it's something I regret deeply."
