![]() ![]() ![]() There had always been something different about Giulio. Giulio was tall, young, and smooth-skinned, his manner refined, steeped in youthful energy and innocence-the striking physical antithesis of his father. ![]() Aldo Romano was a coarse and greedy man, small and bald. He had met Giulio’s father four years ago, when he had agreed to take on the son. No, this involved Aldo Romano again, Raphael felt certain of it. Raphael knew that Giulio Romano, careful as any other serious artist of his hands-the critical tools of his trade-would never have been foolish enough to have engaged in a common brawl. Vulnerable, tentative about his place in the world. In spite of his enormous talent at sketching, as well as paint and fresco work, he was yet a boy of eighteen. Raphael ran a hand through his smooth, brown hair and slumped back, letting a sigh of frustration. ![]()
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