The changing area was made of smooth rock and it held the warm and humid air from the baths up ahead. It was another thing about the villa that seemed ancient and eternal and every time Giorno stepped foot inside he promised himself he’d making visiting more of a habit.

While Joseph was undressing, Giorno was preoccupied with filling one of the empty wicker baskets arranged on a shelf to decide on which infused oil he preferred that evening—likely something that would keep him perked up. As much as he craved a tall glass of wine, he had a long night ahead.

When he finished his selection, he set it to the side and turned to prompt Joseph to do the same—but the words quickly left his head when he got a look at him.