Standing still in the midday sun at the Piazza Della Signoria, she smiled. The first time she saw the Palazzo Vecchio, she felt so small below its rugged stone walls, as they stood to attention, protecting the treasures of knowledge within. Quietly, she whispered ‘rocca’ – fortress – and at that very moment, an unopened letter flapped in the breeze and rested at her feet. She looked down, and convinced she recognised the handwriting.