Chapter 6. Wicked Capital

VESTA

The clouds remained gloomy, leaving no room for differentiating between day and night. Perhaps a sign of a heavy downpour. Regardless, the locale was busier than ever. While I strolled past the small kiosks in the narrow streets of Rome, I could hear the tiny high-pitched sound of clinking metals, the loud laughter of several men in the corner, and some feminine voices singing an outlandish tune as well.

My neck still hurt from the events of the previous day, and the smell of alcohol hanging in the air seemed to compound my woes. I simply adjusted the thick brown blanket with which I had wrapped myself even up to my nose and continued to my favorite shop.

“Greetings, Mama.” I flashed an elaborate smile at the elderly woman standing behind a wooden counter in a small kiosk. Around her were piles of colorful, neatly folded blankets and a few linens.

At the sight of me, her face brightened, and her gap teeth appeared. Even at her age, she seemed to fancy a