Even though I had informed them in advance about my arrival, the reception felt over the top. Why did the estate steward himself come to greet me as soon as I arrived at the Count’s manor?

"Greetings, my lord. I am Baronet Garte, the steward managing the Count of Piedmont's estate. It is an honor to have you travel all the way from Florence to visit us," he said, bowing respectfully.@@novelbin@@

"I appreciate the warm welcome. I’m merely here for a preliminary inspection before starting a new business, but your efforts are appreciated," I replied.

"The Count personally instructed me to ensure everything was prepared to accommodate you."

Technically, I outrank the steward, but barons like me are hardly uncommon in Florence—practically stepping stones on the city streets. For a steward of the Count's estate to come outside the manor gates to greet me was an act of ceremonial excess.

‘Well, this is the Count’s initiative, not mine, so I won’t complain.’

"I’ll be sure to send my thanks to the Count when I return to Florence," I said.

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