I stare at him, shocked, and Luca just grins at me. “Do you – do you speak Itablio?” I ask.
“I mean, just a little,” he says with a shrug as his family moves eagerly around us, setting out food and drinks, turning on music.
“Of course he speaks Itablio, it’s his native tongue!” his mother says, laughing and coming to press a fizzy orange drink into my hand.
“It is?” I gasp, still staring at Luca. He just laughs and looks away, maybe a little bashful.
“Where!” his Gran says suddenly, pulling my attention back to her. “Where…Rafe!”
“What?” I ask, baffled but bursting into a grin.
“Where…Rafe!” she repeats, looking around the room eagerly.
Luca’s mom laughs and slips an arm around her mother’s shoulder, grinning and speaking quietly to her in their language. I look to Luca, curious.
“Yeah,” Luca says, stepping closer and running a coy hand through his hair. “I kind of forgot to mention that Gran is…kind of obsessed with the royal family.” He lifts his chin towards the corner of the room, and I turn to see a picture of my mom on the wall, looking saintly and smiling beatifically, holding a little baby Rafe in her arms, their cheeks pressed together. A candle burns beneath the painting, and it’s clear that it’s very well cared for.
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