The Italian Peninsula's mountains and coasts were illuminated by a brilliant afternoon sun. San Marino was sitting comfortably on a small couch next to the balcony of a big old house, reading a bible that she was holding with careful attention. She turned the page of the bible to the next page while San Marino's veil fluttered gently in a cool breeze coming through an open window.

"Ah... Romani, 8"

San Marino would speak in a tone that was nearly hushed down yet fairly audible as well as pleasant.