Lorenzo de' Medici sat behind the heavy oak desk in his study, his piercing blue eyes scanning the diplomatic documents strewn before him. He had been expecting the arrival of his new squire—a position he assumed would be filled by a young man ready to learn the ropes of courtly duty.

When the heavy wooden door creaked open, he looked up, expecting a boy, but the figure standing on the threshold left him completely startled.

It was a young woman.

She stood before him dressed in a simple brown gown, her tall and slender frame carrying an unexpected grace. Her hair fell softly past her shoulders, but what truly arrested Lorenzo's attention were her eyes—sharp, piercing, and brilliantly alert, taking in every detail of the lavish study in a single sweep.

Lorenzo, ever the observer of people, could tell instantly that she was incredibly sharp. She didn't cower or look down; instead, she eyed the powerful ruler of Florence up and down with a cool, assessing gaze. She possessed a fascinating aura that immediately sparked his intense curiosity.

She stood there in the center of the room, her face carefully composed into a mask of professional calm, waiting for him to break the silence.

Lorenzo remained still for a moment, his chiseled features betraying none of his surprise. Slowly, a genuinely intrigued, charming smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze locking onto hers with unmistakable warmth and fascination.

Using his legendary, eloquent "golden tongue," he broke the quiet of the study, his voice smooth and welcoming.

"Well... you are certainly not the squire I was anticipating, madonna," Lorenzo murmured softly, a playful glint in his blue eyes as he gestured toward the space in front of his desk. "But Florence is a city built on pleasant surprises. Tell me, what is your name?"